CHAPTER 20
Samia
There are zero defenses to shore up against Kian when he keeps flooring me.
My confused blink is slow, and my hand creeps up to stroke his face. I can’t say I enjoy the look of anguish he’s staring back.
Like he’s been terrified for me.
“I don’t remember that.”
“It happened, baby.” The tick in his jaw races, and I trace my fingers across it until he unlocks his teeth. “If not for the intervention of some women, any-fucking-thing could have happened to you. So I had a tracker built into your bracelet; I could have put it under your skin. Nothing like that will ever happen again.”
“Erm, do you know how unhinged that is, Kian?”
He looks unrepentant as he stares.
I’m oscillating between how sweet and protective he is and how dangerous he sounds. He went as far as considering implanting the tracker beneath my skin. A shiver races down the length of my spine.
Wait. What were his exact words?
“How do you know all this if I don’t?”
“I saw security footage from that night.”
“How?”
“I made it my business to find out the truth of what happened when it concerned my woman nearly dying.” He pets me like a sheep. Kian’s fingertips glide down my hair, around my neck, and then slide into my scalp. It calms me, and I lean into him on autopilot. Seeking comfort from Kian has become second nature because he’s always been so ready to give it. And now I want it more than anything some days.
“I don’t even know how to process that. You should have told me, not bugged me. That’s not normal, Kian.” His petting continues while I grumble at his antics, and the soothing chips some of my anger away; his fingers dig into the base of my skull where all the gathering pain is.
Would I have wanted to know I’d been spiked with drugs right after I came out of my unconscious state? Probably not. My head had been messed up, and I was so emotional in those first few weeks. But the resentment he kept something this important from me swells my irritation.
“Normal is protecting my woman.”
I sigh into him, accepting his words for what they are. I’ve always known Kian isn’t your average Joe. He’s several steps down from being a psychopath who moves to his drumbeat. I reason that having him on my side is better than not having him on my side.
“The police should know this. I don’t want it to happen with another woman.”
“It’s been taken care of.”
I look up, confused.
“It’s taken care of.” He repeats, firmer.
Many nasty things flit through my mind. Kian must see how the color has drained from my face, imagining him throwing a pervert into the Hudson and holding his face under the water. He’d do it, that much I know.
“He’s already in custody, the evidence against him is damning, and he won’t see the light of day for a long time. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Okay, fine,” I say after a minute of processing. “We’ll discuss it further later, especially this.” I shake the bracelet. “But now you have to deal with all that nonsense out there, Kian.”
The scraping of his blunt nails on my skull stops, and I miss the tingly sensation. When I’m about to ask for more, Kian backs me up gradually, and suddenly, I collide with the wall, feeling the impact resonate through my entire being.
“The only thing we’re doing is getting married tonight.”
Tonight! My head dips again, and I’m grateful his body is pinning me in place so I don’t fall. He can’t say shocking things like that and expect…but he can and does often.
King control freak. Master of no boundaries.
He stares at me with all the wealth of patience he constantly carries, waiting me out, and when I exhale, unsure of what to say next, Kian trails his lips along my cheek. His hand sneaks under my loose t-shirt, and he palms a breast over my bra.
“Marry me, dreamgirl. Be my wife. My everything.”
He whispers the trigger words by my ear as his seeking hands continue to roam and touch me all over. Seducing me so quickly as I grow softer and bend to his hands as he slides one down into the front of my leggings. I buckle when he cups between my legs and then grinds his palm over my clit until I exhale swiftly, right before Kian kisses me completely.
I know his tricks by now; he’s sly as a tomcat. He’s using seduction to get me to submit, and like a wet piece of paper, I yield into his mouth, groaning as he kisses me until all I know, feel, and taste is him.
It’s as if we ignite at the same time.
It thunders through Kian, and his hands become demanding as we rip off each other’s clothes within seconds.
“Hold on to your man, baby, because I’m about to make you fucking glow.”
When I feel him lining his cock up against my so-ready entrance, my pussy practically vibrating to have him inside me while our mouths wildly eat each other with ferocious kisses, I whimper his name with a plea only Kian can answer. Without a doubt, Kian is the one thing I need more than anything else in this world. The longing for him is trapped within me like a silent scream.
Only a few rowdy kisses and claiming touches, and I’m ready to go. Just as well, because Kian lifts my leg high on his hip and then thrusts home, and the shock of being filled, as his grunt radiates against my lips, steals every thought.
All that’s left behind is the howling need to be fucked by him.
Struggling to stay on my tiptoes, I barely hold on as he forcefully hammers me into the drywall. With a grunt, he powers his hips even more urgently. The feeling is intensified beyond measure, but I’m still consumed with anger at him attempting to force me into unprepared choices.
“Marry me.” he fucks the words into me, his hand on the side of my face, and holds my gaze steady. Dark determination stares right into my soul. “Be my wife,” he repeats after each incredible slam. He hits my pleasure zones, making my teeth bite down on my bottom lip as his speed increases and my pleasure triples. “You’re my dreamgirl. Belong to me. I want to be your husband. We’re connected forever, Samia.”
Oh, lord. He’s crawling into my heart with each word, and I cling even tighter to his shoulders, my mouth tucked nicely into Kian’s neck. I can’t hold on much longer, and he doesn’t tease me when I pant his name, begging. The slap of flesh on flesh filled my ears.
I lose it. My back bends off the wall, my core fluttering like crazy.
Our rhythm is perfectly coordinated as I take the most brutal fuck of all, being owned by my man’s cock.
My orgasm crashes over me, stealing my breath, my vision, and all my senses become blurred as he rails me harder, grunting my name, declaring how much I belong to him. With each moan, his choppy breaths blend like a symphony resonating near my ear.
Kian’s pleasure is only seconds behind mine as we groan, and then he loses it inside of me.
“Be my wife.” The rough grate of his voice rumbles into my mouth, and his hand hooks around my neck. Kian’s plea, delivered authoritatively, triggers a chuckle and sends waves of euphoria coursing through me. Before I can utter a single word, he abruptly withdraws, swiftly pivots me around, and forcefully positions me over the sink unit. He’s still hard because he notches into my pussy only an inch, and I inhale at the too-sensitive invasion, but Kian takes it slow and moves inside me again until we’re interlocked parts. His hand comes around to hold my throat, and it’s ecstasy all over.
He moves so slowly, in and out.
I can’t think. Can’t move a muscle. I’m barely holding onto the counter as he fucks me tenderly.
“My girl likes it rough at first, yeah? Then needs it sweet.”
He’s not wrong. “Kian, please.”
“I’ll always please my wife.” He rolls his hips and buries inside me wonderfully, bit by bit. My eyes pleasure-roll back into my skull as a warm orgasm shudders through my limbs. It’s not as powerful as the first one.
How could it be? That one nearly broke my spine, but the sensation is still satisfying. More so because Kian’s fingers flex around my throat; they’re not blocking my airways, but the threat of it is enough to spike my blood with the danger signal.
I hope I don’t need to be choked every time I want to get off.
I half-giggle and fold down over the counter as Kian detaches from my body, moving away. I’m too dazed to notice when he’s back, and he picks up my hand.
But I know what’s happening when he slides something weighty on my ring finger. Peeling my eyelids open, I’m stunned to see a gorgeous cushion-shaped diamond on a white gold band. It’s so blingtastic, almost blinding me with jewels. I delicately touch it, wondering if the orgasm has made me hallucinate, but no, it’s right there on my finger. A perfect engagement ring.
“Don’t even consider taking it off.” He warns with a hot growl, and then his hand follows the shape of my spine, down over my bottom, and the next thing I feel is his fingers between my legs. When I grasp what he’s doing, my skin flames, and I crane my neck to watch.
“You are not doing what I think you’re doing…”
“Shhh, baby, while I push all my come back into you, squeeze your thighs tight. Don’t waste a drop.”
I jerk under his gentle yet determined touch as he massages my pussy. The hiss rolls out from behind my teeth. He knows I’m hypersensitive after I’ve come, needing time before he can touch me intimately again, but Kian doesn’t remove his hand; he flattens his palm, covering all of me, but his governing fingers have thankfully stopped their lewd task.
“Kian, you’re repeating insane things. I’m not getting pregnant.”
Behind me, Kian presses his lips to the side of my neck. Now he’s stopped railing me, I meet his gaze in the mirror. “You just let my boys do their job like a good girl.”
I roll my eyes at him, but my lips also quirk at the edges. Two rounds of amazing sex have improved my mood, and although my opinion about the living room situation hasn’t changed, I’m not as angry with Kian anymore.
That magical dick of his has wham-bammed me again.
All my earlier questions come flooding back, but at the end of that line, there’s only one crucial question. I look at him in the mirror.
“Are we in love, Kian?”
The surge of euphoria makes me inhale hard when he steps back from me but lifts me onto the counter and then moves into the space my open legs make. He palms my hips and brings his face closer to mine until I see all the hues of blue in his irises.
“Do you feel loved by me, Samia?”
How does he always nail the right words I need to hear? He’s never afraid to voice his feelings. Unlike me, who’s always let my head rule over any emotion, scared to get trampled on and my feelings hurt. Being with Kian has taught me a lot, I realize. Maybe some of his fearlessness has been rubbing off on me.
“Maybe,” I answer. But I mean, yes, I do.
“You don’t feel my obsession for you every second of the day?” he growls, moving his hands from my hips up to my face; he tips my neck back and rolls his nose along my hammering vein. His voice is like liquid smoke, seducing me so easily into nodding.
Kian’s love isn’t ordinary, I know that.
No ordinary love would make my world feel like it was tipping on its axis.
He hasn’t given me a moment’s peace, pushing me into accepting us as a couple, but I’ve also never felt so wanted. His love is crazy intense. It steals my breath, especially when he’s looking at me. It’s like we’ve known each other in a past life, and he came to earth to find me. I’ve read too many romantasy books if I’ve put Kian in the hero spot, and the thought of him there makes me chuckle as he sniffs at my neck. His true villain shows up only seconds later when he proves he’s done trying to charm me around, as he announces. “We’re getting married today, Samia.”
His voice promises consequences if I dare deny him.
But here’s the thing.
His blue-blue eyes also have hope, and his lips aren’t tight. He’s as relaxed as I am.
And he loves me.
This incredible man who’s taken the best care of me, even while he’s the bossiest, most stubborn, and unbending man ever, loves me.
That love makes my tummy feel funny, and my heart taps out of rhythm.
I want to drown in Kian’s love.
I hop down from the counter, walking proudly to grab my clothes. I can’t just prance naked through the apartment while fifteen people are out there. Kian would freak out.
Silly, wonderful man.
“I guess I better before your head explodes from being so fucking bossy,” I proclaim over my shoulder.
For once, my common sense isn’t taking the wheel. I’m letting my heart rule where it wants to go. And apparently, it’s down the aisle to marry a wicked Irishman who loves me.
God help us because one of us might not be thinking clearly.
Holy shit. I’m getting married today.