15. Killian
15
KILLIAN
“ U gh, I needed this so badly,” Quinn says, leaning back in her chair as she slips the last olive from her martini off its spear.
Brooklyn Chophouse is one of the finest steakhouses in New York—definitely the best in Brooklyn—and it seemed like a good night to treat my kid sister and foster brother to a night out. The distinctly rustic feel of the restaurant with its exposed beams, rough-hewn tables, and fireside dining, gives it a hunting lodge vibe. But the food is out of this world.
“Did you have a rough week?” I ask, concern lacing my tone as I lean back to allow the server to take my empty plate.
“Just a lot of studying for my exam,” she says, rubbing her eyes and running her hands down her cheeks, which makes the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks stand out.
Even at twenty-three, my kid sister is adorable with her untamable blond curls, pointy chin, and distinctly Irish complexion. But she’s sharp as a tack, and I pity the man who might underestimate her. She’s a semester away from graduating with a nursing degree. And to be frank, Lance and I— as well as several of my men—are more than a little lucky to have her around.
“Come on,” I tease. “I’m sure you’re practically teaching the professors with all the firsthand experience we’ve given you at this point.”
Quinn laughs, the smile on her face making the years fall away once more. And she’s back to looking like the little girl who followed me and Lance around like a puppy dog for the first ten plus years of her life.
“Yeah, thanks for that. But I still prefer when I’m not having to stitch you guys up.”
“Does that mean we’re going to lose our in-house nurse as soon as you graduate?”
I’m joking, of course. I don’t want my sister’s life to revolve around fixing up a bunch of delinquents like us. But I’ll miss the hell out of her when she’s gone—even if she rarely has the time for me anymore. She’s too busy becoming an upstanding citizen. Unlike me.
Quinn laughs again. Her easy-go-lucky mood always helping to brighten mine. And I smile before finishing off my whiskey.
“Here’s your card, Mr. King,” our server says with a respectful incline of his head as he hands me the folder containing my credit card and the signature paper.
“Thanks, Louis.” I accept it and flip it open to fill in the tip. “Excellent food, as always.”
“We strive to provide nothing less for our best customers,” he says formally.
I flash him a half grin as I pass back the folder, then slip my card back into my money clip.
“Thanks for dinner, Killian,” Quinn says as our server departs.
“Of course. I’m happy to treat my baby sister when I’m sure she’s going to get an A on her big exam.”
Quinn rolls her eyes, but still smiles gratefully.
“Besides, I don’t have any other siblings to spoil anymore. So you’re it, kid.”
“I’m hardly a kid anymore,” Quinn protests, and though I know she did it quickly in the hopes of it going unnoticed, I still catch the quick glance she sends in Lance’s direction.
Her crush on our foster brother is probably one of the main driving forces for Quinn’s determination to grow up from a young age. And I’m just grateful that Lance continues to maintain a level of propriety when Quinn seems hopelessly incapable of growing out of her juvenile attraction.
“But we really should get Jamie, Finn, and Henry to fly out with their families sometime soon. Maybe we can invite them for my graduation,” Quinn suggests, her green eyes brightening.
“Absolutely. However you want to celebrate. It’s your big day.”
We’re actually a good-sized family, with three brothers separating me and Quinn in age, but they’ve all moved away to do bigger and better things than work for the family business under my command. So, it’s just me and Quinn in the big King family estate. And Lance, who spends most of his time with us, even though he has a penthouse nearby in Brooklyn Heights.
But I know Quinn misses the days when the house was full of boys who fawned over her as both the youngest and only girl. After our parents died and Finn and Henry moved out of state, that big-family camaraderie just kind of dwindled. Now we only see them every now and again. Which makes my relationship with Quinn—and Lance—feel all the more meaningful.
Quinn beams, though, to know we’ll be throwing her a big family get-together for her graduation, and when we stand, she slips beneath my arm to give me a squeeze.
Lance rises wordlessly with us, his signature frown in place as he follows us toward the door. And the patrons dining around us glance in our direction as we take our leave.
“I have to pee before we go,” Quinn says, stopping short as we reach the front, where the bathrooms stand off to one side.
“I’ll go get the car,” Lance offers, slipping outside a moment later.
Left to my own devices, I step out into the cool evening air and take a deep breath. The sun’s just setting now, casting deep purple shadows across the tree-lined street. It’d be a perfect night for a walk, and my feet take a few steps in the direction of home before I have time to think it through.
But I can’t just take off without informing Lance and Quinn about what I’m doing. Lance would be furious with me for taking the risk of going alone—especially with the feud I’ve started with the Sokolovs.
A hum of amusement rushes from me as I think about the message I sent to Boris earlier today. I can just picture the look on his face when he heard my offer. Not that the offer is anything less than serious. I might enjoy goading the old man. But now that I’ve had a taste of Natasha, I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough.
Someday, I’ll make her mine. One way or another.
It’s just a matter of time.
And if Boris is smart, he’ll take advantage of the peace offering.
But I doubt he’ll take it.
Something clatters to my right, and I turn on instinct. But the empty glass bottle rolling across the ground isn’t what sets my senses to tingling. It’s the flash of movement behind me that comes a second later.
It’s so fast, and silent, that I don’t have time to process what’s happening until it’s too late. A sharp wire snaps tight around my throat, jerking me backward with enough force to make me stumble.
My inertia pulls me into the alley beside the Brooklyn Chophouse—away from prying eyes. The oversized dumpster gives a hollow clang as the person behind me backs into it one second before my shoulder blades find their chest.
And even without seeing her, I recognize Natasha’s lithe body pressed against mine, her slim arms pulling hard and her chest pressing out to create an astonishing level of tension against the wire around my neck.
A choked cough bursts from me as the bite of metal cuts into my skin, and if I don’t do something fast, she might actually garrote me. I fight to get my fingers beneath the metal, but she’s got it pulled tight, her body straining to maintain control at all costs.
I’m impressed.
Even as my lungs scream for oxygen and my head starts to swim, I have to admit, she’s good. I didn’t see her coming this time. But she must have been watching, waiting for the opportunity to get me away from Lance but before I reached my bedroom, where I wouldn’t be on my guard and expecting her.
Too bad for her, I’m still nearly twice her size.
And I don’t mind fighting dirty.
Dropping to a knee, as if in defeat, I use the sudden shift in levels to catch her by surprise. I drive my elbow into her gut. And air rushes from her lungs, even as she fights to keep the cord tight around my throat. She gives me the slightest opening, though. And as I slip my hand between the wire and my neck, I bring my head back.
I find her chin with the back of my head, and that stubborn point she likes to tip up in defiance is hard as hell. It sends a sharp stab of discomfort through my skull. But I headbutt her with enough force to send her head back into the dumpster with another clang.
Her body goes slack as she’s momentarily stunned. And that’s all it takes.
On one knee, I spin until the garrote is at the back of my neck. I grab her wrists, shoving them up over my head, then hers. Natasha gasps, her dazed gray eyes growing wide as I turn the tables in a flash, pinning her against the dumpster.
In one deft movement, I loop the wire around her wrists, fashioning them into makeshift cuffs. Then I turn, moving Natasha with me as I trap her against the alley wall with my body. That was a close call. She nearly succeeded in killing me, and I release an exalted laugh as I come to terms with just how good Natasha is at what she does.
“Hello, love,” I breathe, my smile breaking across my face as her eyes narrow in fury. “It’s a bit early for foreplay, isn’t it?” I glance toward the public street not twenty feet away. “I never pictured you as an exhibitionist.”
She’s not wearing her typical all-black bodysuit tonight, though she’s wearing dark clothing to make her less conspicuous. But I suspect she’s dressed as a civilian—in black leggings and a dressy hunter-green belted top—to more easily blend in with the crowd once she’s done killing me. And God I love the way she looks with her hair cascading around her face in rich burgundy waves.
“You’re not depraved enough to fuck me in an alleyway, are you?” she taunts, tipping that impressively strong chin up in her signature look of defiance.
“I assure you I am,” I growl, grinding my hips forward to show her just how hard I am for her right now. “And once I’m done with you here, you’re going to meet me at my place to uphold your end of our bargain.”
“You can’t possibly be serious,” she hisses. “After the proposal you sent to my father today? You think I’ll still fuck you?”
“What, is the thought of marrying me really that abhorrent?” I tease.
A flicker of doubt and confusion flash across her face, then something almost akin to relief. But before I can make sense of the emotions, dark fury takes over, making her gray eyes snap with fresh heat. And that only makes me want her more.
“I’ll never marry you,” she whispers, the challenge in her tone setting my pulse on fire.
“Maybe. Maybe not, but the only decision you need to make right now is whether you want me to fuck you or kill you,” I say. “So, what’s it to be, princess? Does our deal still stand?”
Tension crackles between us as the silence stretches. I’m sure Lance and my sister are wondering where the hell I ran off to, so I’ll have to make this quick. But I want to be inside Natasha more than I want my next breath.
So, when she mutters a frustrated, “Fine,” I don’t bother toying with her further.
Instead, I lean in and claim her lips with fiery need.
Natasha gasps, her mouth opening for me. And when I delve between her teeth, she meets my tongue with the same level of intensity. I keep her wrists tied as I settle her arms around my shoulders.
Then I quickly slip her leggings down her hips, leaving her dressed only in her tunic-length green top as I force her to step out of her pants. Natasha glances nervously toward the front of the alley, but passersby don’t seem to notice us in the deep shadows.
So I undo my slacks, opening them enough to pull out my rock-hard, throbbing cock.
Breathing heavily, Natasha looks down between us as I grasp her bare thighs. And I hoist her onto my hips, wrapping her legs around me.
“Hold on,” I command, and she does as I reach around to position my swollen tip at her entrance. A groan rips from my chest as I sink into her warm, tight depths. “God, you’re so wet and ready for me,” I rasp.
Natasha whimpers, her fingers curling in my hair as she buries her face in my neck. And I drive inside her, shoving her hips back against the alley wall with the force of my penetration. I love how eager she is for me. How readily she takes my thick girth. She wants this just as much as I do. I can feel it in the way her pussy ripples around me, tightening as she begs me to fill her up.
“Oh my God,” she moans, the lusty words slurring together in her bliss.
“Call me whatever you like, love. I’ll be your god,” I growl, picking up the pace until I’m fucking her hard and fast.
Once she’s safely in my bed tonight, I can take my time wringing every ounce of pleasure from her. But right now, I’m teaching her a lesson. She needs to know that if she fails to kill me, I will claim her anywhere and any way I want. That’s part of our deal. She better be prepared if she wants to drag me into a dark alley again.
“You like it when I fuck you in public?” I rasp against her ear, driving inside of her as her pussy grows wetter by the second.
Natasha bites her lips as if to keep her confession locked away, but the groan of pleasure that follows tells me she likes it more than she’s willing to admit.
I love it.
Pounding inside of her, having her quick and rough somewhere anyone could find us at a moment’s notice.
Let the world feast their eyes on the beautiful woman I’m buried to the hilt inside. She’s so delectable, I couldn’t care less that we’re having sex in an alleyway just feet from a dumpster. I’d fuck her anywhere, anytime. In any position I can have her.
Because she’s the sweetest kind of sin I’m ever going to know.
And she feels dangerously good, wrapped around my cock, her walls all hot and swollen for me. The sound of her quick, needy breaths drives me absolutely wild.
“God, I’m gonna come,” I murmur, nipping the lobe of her ear. “You coming with me, love?”
“Yes!” she gasps, her pussy clamping down around me.
And as she starts to spasm, I slam inside of her, filling her with my seed.