CHAPTER 32
DAISY
In all the years that I’ve known and loved Killian Ashby; I have never feared him. There has never been a scenario where I’ve found myself in danger while this man is at my side.
He’s been my comfort.
My confidant.
My safe zone.
But right now, with his hands white knuckling the steering wheel, the muscle in his jaw ticking and the charged silence in the cab of this truck, he is neither of those things.
I’m not afraid of him because I think he may hurt me. I’m rational enough to know that he would never do that. But I am afraid of what’s going on inside his head.
I have no idea why he dragged me away and all-but threw me in his truck. All I know is he hasn’t uttered a single word since he grabbed my wrist and told me we’re leaving.
We’ve been in the truck for ten minutes and he still hasn’t told me where the fuck we’re going.
We come to a stoplight and when the truck begins to slow, I chance a glance in Killian’s direction.
He glares at the red light like it personally offended him, his knee bouncing with impatience and I finally open my mouth to ask the question that’s been bothering me since he slammed the door. “Where are we going?”
His jaw clenches, knuckles tightening as he flicks his gaze to me before focusing back on the light. “Home.”
The gruffness in his tone tells me not to argue with his response. That conclusion is only proven further when he speaks again. “It’s about time I remind you who you belong to.”
Be still my beating heart.
The pulse in my neck picks up, the ba-dum, ba-dum, echoing loudly in my ears. My palms grow clammy and all the blood in my body rushes south at the possessive words.
The rest of the drive to Killian’s house is silent and all it does is mount the sexual tension that has been growing between us all evening.
I’m pissed at him for dragging me away from my friends and causing a scene, but I’m also dripping with arousal in anticipation of his next move.
I’ve been on edge since he put my hat on my head back at the arena and I almost kissed him. If it weren’t for Lainey pulling me out of the trance I had fallen under, I would have.
And as he guides the truck between the tree’s that separate his house from the main road, I know I won’t be able to stop myself this time. There will be no distractions, no thunderstorms, no one to interrupt us. If I step foot inside that house, there’s no turning back.
Yet, when Killian climbs out, walks around to my side of the truck and opens the door, I place my hand in his and follow him inside anyway.
His palm is rough against my soft one. Every stride he takes toward the front door is filled with purpose, heightening my senses.
The cool breeze is like a caress against my boiling skin.
My nerve endings are on fire and if he doesn’t do something within the next five seconds, I fear I might spontaneously combust.
He keeps his hand wrapped tightly around mine as he fishes around in his pocket for his keys, pulling them out quickly and unlocking the door.
With a push of his shoulder, the door swings open to reveal an open plan log cabin. I don’t get the chance to examine the place further before my back is pressed against the wall, the door is slammed closed with a loud bang and Killian’s mouth descends on mine.
There is nothing gentle about the way his lips ravage mine. It’s primal. Urgent. Angry. He grips my wrists in one hand, bringing them above my head as he pins me against the wall with his hips. His other hand cups my jaw, angling my head just right to allow him more access.
On instinct, I part my lips and his tongue swoops in, sparring against mine as we feast of each other right there in the entryway.
A deep groan rumbles in his chest, and I echo the sound with a moan as his mouth moves from mine, travelling down my neck. I drop my head back, giving him better access as he bites and sucks a path from one ear to the other.
Killian uses his foot to kick my legs apart, wedging himself in the space between my thighs and grinding the thick bulge concealed behind denim jeans against my centre.
“Fuck,” I hiss, electricity shooting straight through my core. He does it again. And again. And again. It drives me insane.
“Killian,” I cry, my voice desperate and breathy.
“Hmm?” he mumbles against my ear as he tugs the lobe between his teeth.
“More,” I beg.
“You want this?” he asks, grinding his cock against me once more.
“Yes,” I moan, my back arching.
“You want my cock, Angel?” his voice is dark, dangerous. It drips with hunger.
“God, yes.”
“What is your name?”
If I wasn’t so turned on right now, the left field question would throw me off, but I can’t concentrate on anything but the feeling of his big, sinewy body against mine. “Daisy Bennett.”
Killian growls, biting my neck just below my ear and causing me to gasp. “Wrong answer. What is your name?”
A lightbulb goes off inside of my head as I realise what he’s doing, what he wants to hear.
With a hard swallow, I lick my lips and whisper, “Daisy Ashby.”
“Hmm,” he hums in approval. “And who do you belong to?”
His fingers travel from my jaw, down the front of my chest and across my left breast, his thumb circling my nipple through the fabric of my t-shirt.
He freezes.
“What’s this?” Killian’s eyes find mine. The dark, menacing look in them causes goosebumps to prickle my skin, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and the pulse between my legs grows stronger, faster.
I bite my lip, my eyes threatening to roll back in my head as he rolls my shirt up, freeing my breasts and revealing the small, silver barbells decorating my nipples.
“You got them pierced?” His gaze is molten as it moves from my tits to my face and back again.
I send a quick thank you to my past self for making the impulsive decision to get them pierced.
Killian wraps his warm lips around the sensitive bud, his tongue teasing the cool metal and a long groan escapes me.
“Who do you belong to, Daisy?”
“Y-you,” I gasp out as he switches to the other nipple.
“That’s right. You.” He pinches the hard nub. “Belong.” He grinds his hips against me. “To me.” He releases my hands, lifts me up by my thighs and crashes his mouth against mine.