Chapter Ten
Brynn
My heart pounds as he kisses my neck so roughly, I expect it to bruise.
To be fair, I bruise quite easily, but I think even if I didn’t, I’d be marked by his unyielding mouth. Tingles of pleasure dance up and down my spine as he chokes me with one hand and teases me with the other. His free hand leaves my hip to squeeze my tits, and I feel lightheaded with need.
This should not be happening.
I try to resist him, but his touch is intoxicating. I can feel my defenses crumbling.
It doesn’t help at all that he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever encountered, and in a dark corner of my mind, a different reality plays out.
One where the choice might have been taken from me tonight by a man I didn’t want in any capacity. If he wouldn’t have shown up in that basement, that’s exactly what would have happened.
And he said he wouldn’t fuck me, so maybe there’s no reason to think I couldn’t let go with him tonight and leave in one piece tomorrow.
The thought makes me nervous, but Stacie does it all the time. Maybe it won’t be as big a deal as I think. Maybe it will just feel good, and it will unlock a whole new world of possibilities for me this year.
This is college. It’s the time to explore, isn’t it?
My thoughts jolt back to the present when his hand slides down my stomach and moves between my legs. It’s hard to stay upright when his fingertips graze my thigh, then he palms my pussy like it belongs to him, and I’m lost.
I’m in a haze as he pulls my body tightly against his, as he uses his fingers to tease my entrance, then spreads me open and pushes the tip of his finger inside me.
I cry out at the electric touch, throwing my head back against his shoulder.
“There we go,” he murmurs, his voice like honey over my flaring nerves. I can scarcely breathe as he finds my clit easily and begins to tease it.
I whimper with need, my legs too shaky to hold my weight.
I want to cry his name, but I don’t know it.
Then, as quickly as he took control of me, he lets go.
I feel dizzy and a little off kilter when he stops touching me, but then he takes my hand and leads me out of the closet. When we step over the threshold into his bedroom, reality hits me like a wave crashing against the shore.
This is crazy. I can’t do this.
His bed looks intimidating, and maybe I’m thinking when I should be feeling, but things are moving too quickly, and I’m running out of time to change my mind.
This isn’t a good idea.
I think I should listen to that voice. I think I should find clothes and leave this apartment. I think I should run back to the life I was living before I met him and never look back.
“You’ve got that look again, songbird.”
My gaze snaps to his. His eyes are narrowed and burning with an intensity that makes my stomach turn over. “What look?”
His lips tug up in a smirk that feels a bit like a private joke. “Like you’re about to run.”
I lick my lips. “Maybe I should,” I say lightly.
“You can,” he says, surprising me. Then he dulls the surprise when he says, “But then I’ll just have to chase you, and remember how that turned out last time?”
I swallow, remembering how I felt when he had me pinned down in the woods and I could feel just how close he was to losing control.
Curiosity tugs me in one direction, while caution tugs me in another. I was terrified when he tackled me, but thinking about it now, I wonder what would have happened in those woods if I hadn’t fallen into line.
It’s hard to reconcile even having to wonder something like that with him playing my savior tonight, too. He’s played both roles, and I can’t be sure which one is real.
Is he a good guy, or a bad one?
Whatever he is, he’s not lying about wanting me.
His hunger for me is palpable, and my awareness of it ramps up as his eyes shamelessly traverse every inch of exposed skin.
The breath leaves my lungs when his strong arm encircles my waist. He pulls me close, and on instinct, I wind my arms around his neck.
There’s no time to process that he’s going to kiss me until his lips crash into mine.
The breath is ripped from my lungs and a faint cry emanates from my throat, but it’s smothered against his perfect, greedy mouth.
My limbs weaken and I find it a challenge to even stay standing, but he’s in complete control. Too many sensations riot at once inside my body. My awareness of the world around us is fuzzy and seems unimportant—at least, until the backs of my legs hit the mattress.
His strong hands slide down my back and he grabs my ass, the squeeze eliciting a pang of desire when he does. I hear myself moan, but it’s drowned out by his answering growl of approval.
My stomach lightens and my heart pounds.
I’ll do anything to hear that again and know it’s because of me.
He holds me against his body for a moment, lifted off the ground and only supported by his hands under my ass and the brute stability of his strong body. I’m above him like this, but we’re still kissing. His lips haven’t left mine since the moment they claimed them, and with all the excited feelings ricocheting around my insides, I’m not sure I ever want them to.
I’ve never felt anything like this before.
Not even anything close.
I was starting to wonder if other women were just pretending to get sexually excited over men and no one bothered to loop me in on the big charade, but this… this is real desire.
I don’t even know him, but I want him.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it doesn’t make sense. I don’t even know his name, but somehow, none of that feels important right now. I know what I feel, and it’s incredible. I’ve never felt it before, and I’ve wanted to. If for no other reason, just to prove I’m not broken, but here’s my evidence. I work fine, I just haven’t met a man who could unlock this need inside me.
Until tonight.
I won’t let that slip through my fingers just because the timing is off.
The only thing I let slip between my fingers is his dark hair as he dominates my mouth.
Finally, he tears his lips from mine, but only so he can leave a trail of hot kisses down my neck.
Breathless. I can’t catch my breath.
His demanding kisses trail across my collarbone and down my chest. I don’t even realize the towel has slipped and both my breasts are exposed until his incredible mouth reaches the right one. His tongue flicks my pebbled nipple, and I cry out as a string of tension that seems to connect straight to my pussy pulls taut. He teases it some more, and I think I should probably be ashamed of the helpless little mewls and cries that escape me, but I’m not. Everything about this moment feels incredible, and I never want it to end.
The need pulsing between my thighs grows more demanding as he teases and tastes my breasts. My lips part. His name should fall across my lips right now. That feels right, but I don’t know it.
The smallest pinch of embarrassment pierces the fog of pleasure. I hate to let it in and risk it ruining the moment, but I have to ask. “What’s your name?”
His dark eyebrows rise, then his eyes twinkle with amusement when it hits him that I don’t know it, too. “Killian.”
My tummy flutters for some reason. “Killian. Oh.”
“Killian Walsh,” he expands.
“Mm, that’s a very nice name. I like it.”
A slight laugh escapes him, and those damn twinkling eyes… It’s like he finds me so endearing, and that look makes my heart gallop almost as much as his greedy kisses.
I can’t seem to gather my wits, even though I’m sure this is the time to do it.
He doesn’t allow that moment of near-lucidity to last very long.
Without warning, he throws me down on his bed. I gasp, my heart soaring when he drops me, then bottoming out when my bare back hits his cool sheets.
The towel is still draped haphazardly around my hips, but he fixes that now, grabbing a loose end and yanking it out from under me. I shift my weight back on the bed, intending to work my way closer to the middle, but before I can, Killian grabs my bare legs and drags me closer to the edge.
On instinct, I grab the mattress so I don’t fall off. My gaze darts to Killian, but he’s intent on positioning my feet on the edge of his mattress.
“What are you—?”
Before I can finish my question, a devious smirk tugs at his beautiful lips and he positions his face between my thighs.
My tummy turns over. “Oh.”
That.
I want to be embarrassed. I plan to be embarrassed. In the sliver of a second as he ducks his head between my spread thighs, I am certain I would rather die than endure the embarrassment that will surely envelop me when he puts his mouth on my—
But then he does, and every cogent thought I’ve ever had flies right out of my mind. The air leaves my lungs. My soul defects, abandoning my body to go pledge allegiance to his.
He’s as greedy eating my pussy as he was kissing my mouth. He uses his fingers to spread me open, then licks slowly and steadily, making me melt into his bed. My belly clenches when his tongue moves higher to tease the most sensitive part of me, and I hold my breath in anticipation as he nears the spot that needs his attention most.
Then his tongue flicks it and I cry out sharply, clutching the mattress to keep from shooting off the bed. He chuckles, then murmurs, “Told you you’d like it,” before returning his mouth to my pussy.
That’s an understatement.
My eyes drift closed, and my thighs open wider. My body is shameless, but what he’s doing feels so good I can’t think straight.
He grabs my ass with one hand and pulls me even closer to the edge of the bed, but I let him this time. He can pull me all the way off it. He can throw me on the floor; I don’t care, as long as his mouth keeps doing the amazing things it’s doing.
His hot tongue laps my clit and I let out a long moan as my body writhes of its own accord. My body feels hot despite being completely naked on his bed, and I twist away without meaning to.
He yanks me right back, teasing me a little more aggressively with his tongue. It feels almost like a reprimand, but my god, he can punish me all day if that’s how it feels.
But then, like an absolute villain, he stops.
I’m confused at first. Breathless and out of sorts. When he climbs on the bed, I shift uncertainly, torn between twin realities: he’s a stranger, so I don’t know what to do or say; he’s the man who just had his mouth on the most intimate part of my body.
It feels impolite to tell him I wasn’t finished, but surely he knows that, right?
I try to guess where he’s going so I can follow his lead in whichever way I’m meant to in this scenario. I end up with my head on one of his pillows and my legs pushed apart. He positions himself lower on the bed, a one-hand grip on my leg as if he doesn’t trust me not to close them. Then he crawls between my thighs and pulls my pussy even closer to his face before draping my legs over his broad shoulders.
Oh, my.
This is a very intimate position to be in with a man whose name I just learned.
Before I can think about that too much, he says, “Sing for me, songbird,” then his mouth latches on my pussy again.
For a split second I can’t figure out if he means that literally or not, but I’m too swiftly swept up in the pleasure of his mouth on me to obey even if he did.
It only takes me a moment to hear it, though: my gasping intro, moaning my way through the first verse, a chorus of helpless noises leading to a bridge of needy cries. The song keeps playing until my thighs are shaking and I can scarcely draw a breath. I grab the mattress to keep from coming apart even while thrusting my hips closer, begging for him to unravel me.
“Please,” I whine helplessly.
He’s been toying with me, but at my plea, his grip on me tightens and he focuses his attention right where I need it.
“Oh, yes,” I say on a gasp, my body trembling and twisting. But his grip is firm, and even though my instinct is to pull away, he doesn’t let me get far. He holds me in place and makes me take it even when I feel like I’m on the brink of insanity.
And then I fall over the edge, and I can’t contain all the pleasure unleashed inside me. I cry out, my body arching and my hands clutching at the bed to ground me, but I don’t really want to come down.
I’m still drifting blissfully when Killian shifts positions, his lean, muscular frame coming down on top of me. I’m too dazed to feel alarmed like I’m sure I should, but then he sinks his fingers into my hair and kisses the hell out of me.
Killian’s fingers tangle in my hair, caressing my scalp as he explores every inch of me with his mouth. I can taste myself on his lips, and it should feel sordid, but he makes it feel intimate instead.
This is heaven.
I don’t get the sense he’s fully satisfied when he stops kissing me, but I sure am. When his perfect lips linger near my mouth, I wish I knew him well enough to joke that he should be careful about kissing me like that unless he wants me to fall in love with him, but… well, he really should.
I don’t want to freak him out, so I keep that quip from spilling out of my mouth.
Damn, he knows how to kiss.
I have a hunch that whatever his “body count” may be, Killian is a dangerous man with a trail of broken hearts behind him. And I have a worse hunch that if I’m not careful, mine could easily join the lineup.
I’ve been in a relationship with someone who never experienced this level of intimacy with me, and Killian convinced me to let him have it within hours of meeting me.
Dangerous.
Then he moves behind me on the bed, pulls my body close, and locks his strong arms around me to keep me there. He nuzzles me like he genuinely cares about me, and even though I know he doesn’t, it feels like he does when his lips find my neck.
His kisses are soft this time, and when he reaches the back of my neck, his lips graze a particularly sensitive spot and send shivers of pleasure dancing down my spine.
I sigh with pleasure, my whole being like putty in his hands. I have no defense against him. None at all. If he took advantage of my pliancy and fucked me right now, I wouldn’t have it in me to stop him.
He finally lets me settle in and stops stimulating my body, but I know I only have this reprieve because he’s choosing to give it to me.
I think I should feel less comfortable with a man so tempting, but somehow, lying here with a man I know is more dangerous than any I’ve ever encountered before, I feel safer than I ever have in my whole life.