11. Killian #2
I catch her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head against the mirrored wall. Her breasts press flat against my chest with every heavy exhale.
"Ask me," I demand, my voice absolute. "Tell me exactly what you want."
She looks me right in the eyes.
“Fuck. Me. Killian.” The blunt words are the only hook I need.
The pressure in my balls is an ache now, the skin of my cock tight and sensitive. I shift her weight to one arm, freeing a hand to shove my sweatpants down. My cock springs free, hitting against her clit. I slide against her, teasing a groan out of her.
Fuck, she feels incredible.
"Look at what you do to me," I murmur, my gaze locked on hers in the reflection.
Her frustrated groan breaks into a moan as I position myself at her entrance.
I drive into her with one thrust, burying my length until my hips hit hers. The air leaves my lungs as we both freeze, the physical shock of the connection overriding everything else. She’s tight, a wet heat that wraps around me like she’s trying to swallow me whole.
"Fuck," I growl, my lungs burning. "You feel that? How perfectly you take me? Like you were built specifically for this."
My blunt words draw a ragged moan from her. Her inner walls squeeze, pulsing around me as she tries to adjust to the fullness.
I stay still for a moment, my forehead braced against hers. I want to feel every muscle in her adjust to me. I want her to feel the way she’s being stretched.
"Every fucking minute," I rasp. "Every fucking minute thinking about this. About you."
She squirms, trying to find her own rhythm. I hold her still.
"Yes," she admits, her voice breaking. "Yes, goddammit. Now move."
The last of my restraint is gone. I don’t give her another second to breathe. I pull out until I’m almost clear before slamming back in, setting a rhythm that rattles the mirrors against the wall.
The heat is suffocating, her body gripping me with every slide. Each shallow gasp, each time she says my name, I lock it away. She hooks her legs tighter around my waist, following the pace I set.
I hitch her higher, hooking my hands under her knees, changing the angle to drive deep into her. Her head falls back, her eyes fluttering upwards as she buckles against me.
"There?" I growl, grinding against the spot I know will break her.
"Yes," she gasps, her voice breaking. "Don't stop."
I watch her face. The way her eyes roll back, the flush over her chest. She's meeting my thrusts now, her heels attempting to pull me closer.
I don't look away from the reflection across from us.
I want to see her body straining against mine, the intensity on her face as she stops holding anything back.
The wet, obscene sound of skin on skin echoes off the gym walls. I watch her in the glass, memorizing the way her chest heaves, the way her lips stay parted, the way she stops trying to keep a piece of herself back and just lets me own all of her.
“Tomorrow,” I pant, each word punctuated by a thrust, “I want you to feel the ache I’m leaving behind. A reminder that you can’t escape me.”
I feel her start to tighten around me, her lungs working overtime.
Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted. Her eyes roll back before closing. I can feel her getting closer, pussy beginning to flutter around me, her breath coming in pants.
"Look," I command, forcing her chin toward the reflection. "Look at exactly what I'm doing to you."
Her eyes meet our joined image in the mirrors on the opposite wall, her legs wrapped around my waist, my hands gripping her thighs, the place where our bodies connect. The visual combined with the physical sensation pushes her closer to the edge, her inner walls gripping around me.
"That's it," I growl against her throat. "Let go, Ellie."
Her body pulses around mine, her pussy clenching enough to hurt.
The sight of her in the reflection. Fuck.
The way she’s arching into me. It's enough to push me over. I follow seconds later, burying my face in the curve of her neck to muffle my own response, my grip on her thighs tightening until I’m empty inside her.
We stay like that for a long moment, our weight braced against the mirror until our breathing starts to level out.
I slowly pull out and lower her to her feet, keeping an arm around her waist to steady her.
I press my mouth to her forehead, then her lips, a gentler kiss than the heat from moments before.
"No one is touching you," I rasp against her temple. "I don't care who Ross sends. They’re going to have to go through me first."
She looks up at me, her expression hardening. "Then they'll have to go through both of us," she corrects. "I'm not some liability you can park in a corner, Killian. If they’re coming for me, I’m going to be ready."
I know how Cell 7 operates. I’ve seen them dismantle a man bit by bit until they have what they want. They are absolutely fucking merciless, and the thought of Ellie anywhere near them makes my jaw lock.
But I know that look in her eyes. It’s the same stubborn resolve that’s kept her alive this long, the same grit that made me notice her in the first place. It’s also exactly what’s going to get her caught in the crossfire.
"Ellie," I begin, but she silences me with another kiss, softer this time but no less determined.