Chapter 21
21
KILLIAN
R aine lies limp against the mattress with her pretty little upturned ass teasing me into biting it. My left hand massages her lower back while my right strokes my hard cock.
When she feels me pull her knees apart, so I can kneel between them, she mumbles a protest into the mattress.
“Killian, wait.” Her voice is low, full of whiskey and cream.
“Lie still. You don’t need to move.” My hand guides my cock to her pretty little ravaged hole. That opening will never be the same.
I drop forward onto my palms and lower myself so my weight rides her body. Then, I reach back for my cock and position it between her soft lips, stroking her clit a few times with the head before pushing into her pussy.
Raine whimpers, either from exhaustion or because she’s sore. I don’t bother to ask. She kept me waiting so long for this. Once was never gonna be enough.
I slide my chest to the side so I’m not crushing her. Not that I would mind fucking her until she faints. She’s my Mount Everest… the ultimate fucking climb .
I fuck her prone, driving her body into the mattress as she whimpers and moans. She doesn’t fight it. All the pent up hunger and lust inside me finally gets to have its way, and my body fucking roars with satisfaction with every merciless thrust. I own her now. Finally and for fucking keeps.
The deep fucking finally wakes her pussy again as she’s driven toward the footboard. I feel her hips pulse beneath me as she tries to grind her clit against the mattress. My balls are tightening with the need to come.
I want to shoot my load into her body, but I’m not suited up. Reluctantly, I shove myself up and off her, pulling my cock free as I rise to my knees. There’s a strangled groan of frustration from Raine, which makes me smile. She would’ve let me come inside her. She wanted me to.
I jerk off until ropes of cum paint streaks on her back and ass.
Looks good on her.
RAINE
I’m so tired and sore I can’t move. Killian, however, seems to have enough energy to start a campaign to conquer Western Europe and half of Asia. He leans over me, kisses the back of my head, and says, “Hungry?”
“No,” I mumble.
He moves his face lower, so he can kiss the side of my mouth. His hand strokes my lower back. “I’ll bring you something.”
“I’m cold.”
His answer is to rise from the bed and then fold the blanket over me. He pulls the edge down just enough to expose my mouth and nose, then he walks away, gorgeous ass muscles flexing as he struts like a lion who’s just finished eating his prey. I suppose that’s kind of what he did do.
Sometime later, I wake groggily, having fallen asleep without realizing it. With one eye unable to open because it’s pressed against the bed linens, my view of my surroundings is limited. My other eye sees mostly white porcelain and beyond that tan flesh.
What?
Raising my head enough to get my other eye open, I find the white porcelain is a bowl full of berries that he apparently put right next to my head. Lucky I didn’t tip it over. A little bubble of happy optimism fills my chest. It was sweet of him to bring me fruit. Since Killian is never sweet, it’s more evidence he’s serious about changing.
Next to the bowl is Killian’s calf. I’m still lying the wrong way around on the bed, with my feet near the headboard. Looking over my shoulder and up the line of his naked body, I see he’s lying on his back, sound asleep. With some twisting and turning, I sit up. There are twinges of soreness in my lower back and between my legs. It was quite the circus parade of sex. Definitely the best orgasms I’ve ever had.
The brightly colored berries look delicious and I’m hungry, so I dig in. Before I know it, I’ve eaten them all.
As I start to crawl over Killian to get out of bed, he comes awake suddenly. His arm shoots out, lightning fast, to grab me around the waist and stop me from reaching the other side of him.
“No.”
I lower my head, resting the side of my face on his abs as I look at him. “What’s wrong?”
He draws in a deep breath and stretches. Then he looks around as he yawns, his gaze landing on his phone’s screen. “Three in the afternoon, right? Not morning?” His voice is thick with sleep, which makes me smile.
His bedroom has no windows to allow natural light in. Being in a proverbial bat cave makes it hard to tell day from night. When I turn my head the other way, I note there’s a little light creeping under the door.
“Yes, afternoon, I think,” I say.
Killian’s hand cups the back of my head to steady me as he sits up. My head slides onto his thigh. I’m not used to him touching me casually and sweetly. For the longest time, whenever we were alone in bed, it was a frantic race to bring each other pleasure before he snuck back out. We never let ourselves relax in bed together because we’d fallen asleep once and had nearly gotten caught together.
I start to sit up, but his hand catches my hair and pulls me back down.
“What’re you doing?” I say, reaching behind my head to pull on his hand.
He releases my hair but moves his arm across my back, trapping me against him. “Don’t get up.” He runs his free hand through his mussed hair.
“I have to eat something substantial. And then do some work.”
“I’ll bring you food and your laptop.”
My chuckle is low and throaty, then I turn my head to bite down gently on his thigh. “I don’t want to eat in bed. Then we’ll be sleeping in crumbs later.”
“So?”
I push his heavy forearm off, and he allows me to sit up, but then his arm slides around me and gathers me back to him, so my nipple is pressed against the side of his chest. It’s super cozy, very sexy, and more welcome than I want it to be.
“Killian…” My fingertips caress his lower lip. “Let’s make some food, okay? And I’ll do some work. Then, we’ll come back to bed.”
His hand slides down and pinches my ass. “You’re my sex slave. You don’t get to wear clothes. Do you want to cook while you’re naked?”
I laugh softly and trace his jaw with my finger. “It was really great, but?—”
“I’m not kidding.” His voice is stern, and his eyes narrow. “No clothes until I say so.”
My brows rise, and then when I realize he isn’t playing around, my lips purse. I try to sit up again and the next thing I know, I’m lying face down over his thighs.
He slaps my ass twice. “Gonna do what I say?”
I look over my shoulder at him. “What if I don’t?” My voice is full of teasing defiance. This kind of dark sex play is something he wants, and that’s made me curious about it, too.
“I think you know.” The hard tone of his voice causes me to shiver as my nipples tighten and my pussy clenches. At the moment, I regret sharing my innocent curiosities with him.
“Listen, we shouldn’t play around now. I don’t have time. Let’s?—”
“We’re alone in the house until tomorrow. This is exactly how we’re going to spend our time. If you’re good and spread your legs whenever I tell you to, I’ll take you to the media room so you can stream and work for a while. But you can’t have clothes.”
“I’m not going in there naked!”
Without warning, he pins my arm against my lower back and starts to spank me. I squirm and twist, trying halfheartedly to escape.
The burning pain in my ass ignites a new kind of hunger, heating my whole body. I lie still as the rhythm reverberates through my pelvis, making me want a different kind of roughness from him. My knees separate to give him access to my throbbing pussy.
“Killian,” I groan.
He stops, and his big hand massages my flaming ass. It feels vulnerable and slightly swollen. Below my belly, his cock is rock hard, which makes my pussy even wetter.
I swallow, tempted to beg him to do more.
As if reading my mind, his fingertips tap my ass. “Get on your hands and knees.”
My eyes widen. “Hands and knees? Really?”
“Yeah, so I can fuck you, little slave.”
A breath of protest escapes. “Killian,” I say in a warning tone.
His face is ruthlessly unsympathetic. “Or you can disobey, and I’ll spank you some more.”
A flaming blush probably makes my face as red as my ass. I kind of enjoyed the spanking, but it’s not what I want right now.
Moving slowly, I get on my hands and knees. His hand cups my pussy, and I realize, with deep mortification, that he’s checking to see whether I’m excited by this game. When his palm comes away wet, he knows I am.
I wait, shivering, while he puts a condom on. Then he moves behind me and presses his cock slowly into me. The stretch feels good, but I’m also sore. Killian’s hands grip my hips tightly and then he starts to fuck me more roughly than he ever has .
Within minutes, I’m crying out and begging him to turn me over. I need something to rub against my clit. So badly .
He releases my hips. “Get on your back, and grab your knees and pull them up toward your shoulders.”
My body burns so fiercely I don’t even hesitate. When I’m holding my knees the way he wants, everything private is exposed.
He looks down at me like he wants to hate-fuck me into next week. I don’t understand why he seems hostile.
“This is a good position for fucking your ass, too.”
Sucking in a startled breath, I start to let go of my knees, but he shakes his head. Something about his expression keeps me from challenging him.
I’m so open and so slick that when he drives into my pussy, there’s no resistance at all. He moves so his pelvis grinds against my clit, and then he rocks his hips so I get endless rubbing until I come.
While I’m still spasming around his cock, he grabs my wrists and pins them over my head while he goes back to fucking me like I’m a sex toy. Which I kind of am.
I struggle, which only seems to excite him more. So, I fight harder.
Letting someone like Killian mix violence with sex is dangerous, but the adrenaline rush and the battle as we look into each other’s eyes triggers something inside me… It’s as though we’re made of hot wax and when we cool off, we’ll be fused together, not knowing where one of us ends and the other begins.
His grip on my wrists is painfully tight as he slams into me. His head drops and he growls in my ear. “I will never let you go.”
In the secret dark recesses of my mind, I answer him. Good. I don’t want you to.
When he finally comes, we’re both breathless.
I don’t have to ask whether this was the best sex of his life with anyone. I know it was. Killian has a hard time feeling things. There’s an emotional numbness that coats his soul the way zinc sunscreen covers skin. Thick. Almost suffocating. He’s implied that, with me, he feels more than he can with other people. I guess that’s why he enjoyed seeing the blood after we stabbed each other. That night was intense enough to make an impression on even him .
Through ragged breaths, he rasps into my ear, “I want you like my life fucking depends on it. I thought that would stop if I finally got to fuck you for real.” His breath burns my skin and ruffles my hair. “It hasn’t stopped, though. It’s worse than ever.”