Chapter Twelve
Ibarely have a moment to regret my words. A sharp rip sounds, and my dress falls away from my shoulders. Is Killian strong enough to tear it? Before I can ponder that, he stands up, hands gripping the backs of my thighs to hold me close—the naked backs of my thighs.
He tore the entire dress off of me. Holy hell, he’s powerful, and that is unbelievably fucking hot.
He starts carrying me through the apartment, but I can’t seem to look away from him. I know we pass several rooms, halls, and there might even be stairs involved—then, he’s lowering me onto the most luxuriously soft mattress I’ve ever felt.
He lets me go, and I whimper at the loss of contact. His skin feels so good against mine, I’m loathe to part with it, even for a moment. I want Killian. I want him so badly I might lose my mind.
He only releases me long enough to hook his fingers under the band of my panties and drag them down my legs impatiently. Then, he stands over me—fully dressed, tall and imposing—and stares down at me like I’m a priceless prize he’s captured.
I fall back onto my elbows, panting, waiting for him to make a move. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I’ll regret this as soon as whatever’s fogging my mind wears off—more, I’ll despise myself, but I can’t seem to find a single fuck to give right now.
I want him. I want him so badly it hurts.
Killian lets out a long, strained breath. “You have no idea just how stunning you are, do you, Little Bird?”
My cheeks brighten at the compliment. I don’t know what to say, so I look away.
“No, none of that bashfulness—not tonight. Look at me.” My eyes fix back on Killian at his command, in time to see him loosen his tie and strip it off.
The suit jacket goes next, and then, his fingers deftly start unbuttoning his shirt.
My mouth waters at every peek of gorgeous, fair skin that’s exposed.
By the time he gets to the last button, I’m holding back a moan.
He swears under his breath. “I’d give you my entire fucking fortune if you keep staring at me like that.”
“There’s a lot to stare at,” I breathe, openly ogling his six-pack.
He must work out every day. The ridges of his abs are so well-defined I’m pretty sure they could double as a staircase leading straight to heaven—or hell.
His shoulders are even broader without the suit, and his biceps are as big as my calves.
Fuck, he’s hot. He’s devastatingly attractive.
“How are you not married?” I breathe.
He arches an amused eyebrow. “Are you submitting your application to be my wife already? I thought it’d take a lot more to get you so enamored.”
I’m too busy staring at him to actually contemplate his words. His hand reaches for the buckle of his belt, and something flashes through the back of my mind. Alarm or panic—some reminder that him holding a belt doesn’t end well for me. My brows furrow, and I scoot back, suddenly uncertain.
What am I doing? I’m in Killian King’s bedroom—
“None of that.” Killian releases his pants and instead opts for gripping my thighs. “I’m not going to hurt you tonight—certainly not in any way that doesn’t involve my cock splitting your pussy. But first…”
He drags me to the edge of the bed, wrenches my thighs apart, and drops to his knees. Holy fuck, seeing him in such a subservient position, while knowing that he’s the dominant figure in the bedroom—it short-circuits something inside my brain. His hand returns to my pussy, cupping it.
“You know what I really wanted to do that day in my office?” he asks quietly.
I shake my head mutely. I’ve lost the power of speech.
“I wanted to sit your ass on my desk and eat your pussy until you were begging me for mercy—but I’d have none.
I suspect this,” he squeezes my pussy; I gasp, “is going to become my favorite dessert. Since I only have eight weeks with it, I’m going to be indulging often.
I wanted to very badly in my office. If you hadn’t been such a fucking brat—” he pinches my clit, and I whimper, “—I would’ve done just that, Lyra.
Then I’d have fucked you until you were so filled with my cum, you had more of my DNA inside you then your own.
” Two fingers spear inside me. I clamp down around them, falling to my elbows, shivering.
He pulls his fingers out of me and sucks them into his mouth. Releases a low groan of pleasure. Does he actually like the way I taste?
His gaze meets mine. “I was right.”
His head lowers between my thighs, and his tongue darts out, running over my slit and dipping inside me.
It is, without question, the most insanely erotic sensation I’ve ever felt.
When his tongue darts upward to lave over my clit, I lose control of myself entirely and come—hard.
The orgasm hits me out of nowhere with no build-up.
Killian swears and slams three fingers inside me.
The sting and burn is intense, but it only amps up the pleasure and prolongs my orgasm.
My pussy clenches and convulses around them and I writhe on the bed, gripping the sheets so hard I’m shocked they don’t tear.
“That was fast.” Killian pulls his head back, meeting my eyes again. His lips glisten with the evidence of my arousal, and he holds my gaze as he licks them. I almost come again from the sight alone.
His head lowers again, and panic creeps up my throat. I’m already feeling the sensitivity from my orgasm, so I don’t think—
Oh, fuck. His tongue returns to my clit just as his fingers curve upward, hitting a spot inside me that makes me cry out and come again.
This orgasm is stronger and prolonged, and it’s so consuming, tears leak out of my eyes, but Killian doesn’t show me mercy.
He wraps his lips around my clit and sucks.
I scream. My hands bury in his hair, pushing him away one moment and holding him in place so I can grind the next.
I don’t know what I want from him, only that I can’t get enough of this sensation.
It’s made all the worse by the knowing way he navigates my pussy, as if he’s been here before and understands exactly what makes me tick.
When the second orgasm fades and I quickly feel a third sneaking up on me, I start to push him away and cry in earnest.
“Killian—please,” I whine. “Too much. No more, I can’t—” my words cut off when he lifts his head. He shakes his head slowly, just once.
“I’m not done yet.”
“I can’t take anymore. Not right now. Please.” He goes still at my words, cocking his head to the side.
“Tell you what,” he says after a few beats. “I’ll make you a deal. You give me access to this pussy—to use it however I want—and you get a break for now.”
I hesitate. For several outrageously long seconds, I hesitate, because a voice of reason cautions me that I’m not in my right mind, and that I shouldn’t be making decisions right now.
Killian grows impatient. “Otherwise, I’ll continue until I’ve had my fill. And, Lyra, I’ve barely gotten started.”
Fuck, I can’t take any more of his deadly mouth. “Once,” I whisper. “One time.”
“That’s not the deal—”
“One time,” I repeat, finding it inside myself to make my voice strong. “One time, whenever, however.”
“You won’t say no,” he says. Rising up. He angrily shoves his pants down, as though the material offends him.
My eyes fall on his cock—thick, long, engorged, leaking precum and looking eager to be inside me.
“You won’t tell me you hate me or to stop.
I won’t have to fucking drug you to get the real you. Agree to it.”
I swallow harshly. I don’t really have a choice, but right now, I don’t mind that as much as I should. The sight of his cock is making my pussy ache with the need to be filled. “I agree.”
“Good girl.” I shudder at the words as they fall from his lips, at the floaty sensation they inspire in my chest. I want to be his good girl. I want him to keep calling me that forever. “Scoot that beautiful ass up my bed.”
He matches me for every inch I manage to gain, gazing down at me with darkening eyes and stark hunger. When my head hits one of his soft pillows, he grips my thigh and lifts it, wrapping it around his waist. His cock taps my clit, and my back arches.
“Beg,” he tells me. “Make it good, Lyra. Beg me for my cock. Show me what a needy cumslut you are.”
“Please.” The word falls out, unabashed and filled with desire.
“Please, Killian, please fuck me. I want it so bad—” I cut off with a cry as he spears his full length into me, all in one go, impaling me with what feels like a foot of his cock.
It burns and stings way worse than his fingers did, but it also feels so fucking good.
My nerve endings are all firing up, pleasure hormones are flooding my brain, and I’m losing my grip on reality.
Killian’s head drops down to my neck. He bites the skin there harshly, groaning when I clench around his length with a whimper.
“Better than I imagined.” He pulls out until just the tip remains inside me, then slams home once again, shocking the breath out of me.
My eyes fall closed as pleasure that borders on agony sweeps over my body.
Killian is not a shy lover. He fills his palms with my breasts as he fucks in and out of me, pinching and twisting my nipples. He stares down at me, jaw clenched, and gives his head a hard shake. He leans down to kiss me with such intensity, it’s like he’s trying to eat the soul out of my body.
I cry as I come a third time tonight, and he swears again, thrusting even harder. He’s like a madman right now—eyes dark, veins bulging, sweat glistening on his brow. He’s a vision, like a real-life Adonis, and being the object of his attention and desire is so heady I start to lose myself.
Killian isn’t like any of the other men I’ve been with—those guys lasted five minutes, sometimes ten, but he fucks me for what feels like hours.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve orgasmed by the time he comes inside me with a roar that bounces off the walls, then collapses on top of me.
He’s shivering, I realize. No, not shivering—trembling from the force of his release. I am, too.
His weight on my body makes it hard to inhale a full breath, but right now, I don’t care. The contact feels amazing. Everything about this moment is amazing.
“Don’t think we’ve finished,” Killian whispers, kissing my neck. “The aphrodisiac will last four hours. I plan to make every moment count.”