55. Killian #2
The second the front door clicks shut, I’m on her.
I pin her against the wood, my mouth finding hers with a hunger that’s been clawing at me since we left the restaurant.
She meets me with equal heat, her hands fisting in the lapels of my jacket as we move toward the bedroom.
We stumble, a chaotic mess of reaching hands and desperate breaths as we try to shed our clothes without slowing down.
She pulls back as we hit the bedroom door, her face flushed and her eyes burning. "Wait. Give me two minutes."
She disappears into the bathroom, but I don't wait for her by the bed.
I strip off the rest of my clothes, the air cool against my skin, and head through the glass doors.
I step onto the master deck, the night air sharp with damp earth and pine.
The crickets are a low hum in the brush.
Somewhere deep in the treeline, an owl calls once and goes quiet.
The sunken outdoor stone tub is already steaming, a glowing pool of heat cut into the stone. I sink into the water, feeling the heat soak into my muscles, making them go loose and pliant. I lean my head back against the rim, watching the steam roll off the surface and vanish into the dark.
When she finally steps out onto the freezing wooden deck, I stop breathing.
It’s not by choice. She’s wearing a thin web of black silk that highlights every curve I've spent the last year memorizing.
The cold air flushes her skin instantly.
She stands at the edge of the tub, her breath coming in white plumes, forcing me to look up at her.
"Tonight," she says, her voice a low command that carries through the steam. "I'm the one who decides when we’re done." My cock pulses in response.
A year ago, I would have killed anyone who tried to tell me when I was done.
Control was the only thing that kept me alive.
But with her, I like her authority. It’s fucking hot as hell, and I like that she’s the only person on earth who isn't afraid to take exactly what she wants from me. I’m sure as hell not about to stop her.
She steps down into the water, a sharp gasp escaping her as the heat hits her freezing skin. She stands between my open legs, the water only reaching her thighs, the wet lace of her lingerie clinging to her as the night air makes her shiver.
"Don't move," she says, her voice low as she reaches for my wrists.
She pulls me upward until I'm sitting on the freezing stone ledge. I could overpower her in a second. I could flip her around and have her pinned before she could even blink, but I don’t.
I’m staying right where the fuck I am, enjoying the fire in her eyes that tells me she isn't asking for permission anymore.
She pins my wrists against the stone behind me, forcing me to endure the bite of the night air while she remains buried in the heat of the tub.
She leans down, her wet hair dripping onto my thighs.
She wraps her hand around the base of my cock, a firm grip that tells me exactly how much control she's taking.
Then her mouth closes over the head, her tongue circling slowly before she sinks down, taking inch by inch until I can feel the back of her throat.
Fuck. I'm fisting the rough stone so hard my knuckles are white, jaw locked, every muscle in my body fighting the urge to thrust. She pulls back until just the tip is between her lips, the suction tight enough to drag a sound out of me I don't recognise, then drops back down again, agonisingly slow.
She's not trying to finish this. She's making me beg for it without a single word.
She's dragging this out as long as possible.
"Now," she finally gasps, pulling back enough to look me in the eye.
She pulls me back into the water, dragging me down onto the stone seat until the heat swallows me again.
She straddles my lap, moving the lace to the side, and seats herself on me in one fluid motion that pulls a deep groan out of me.
The heat of the water and the tight grip of her pussy around my cock hits at the same time, and I'm barely holding on.
She braces both hands on my chest and rides me hard, taking every inch of me while water sloshes over the rim with every thrust. She owns my cock right now, and she fucking knows it.
She slows down when I'm about to lose it, grinding her hips in a long, lazy circle that makes me swear under my breath. She's smiling. That dangerous, knowing smile that tells me she's enjoying making me suffer.
"Not yet," she murmurs against my ear, her breath hot on my neck while her hips keep that torturous slow pace. I can feel all of her around me, each squeeze, and my hands are shaking against the stone.
She picks up the pace again, riding me harder, chasing her own release now.
Her breathing changes and I can feel her thighs starting to tremble against mine.
She's close, and she's not hiding it. Her fingers dig into my shoulders hard enough to bruise, and the sound she makes when she finally lets herself go is the best fucking thing I've ever heard.
I watch her face, the way her teeth catch her lower lip and the way her nails rake down my skin as she finally comes, her body clenching around mine.
The second she finishes, my body gives out.
I come so hard it tears through me like nothing I've ever felt.
I bury myself deep inside her, my hips jerking hard against hers as I empty myself completely, a groan ripping out of my chest that I couldn't hold back if I tried.
She doesn't pull away. She rides me through it, her body still clenching around my cock in pulses that drag every last bit out of me until I'm shaking and spent.
My forehead presses against her collarbone, and my hands finally let go of the stone to wrap around her.
We sit there for a long time, the only sound the water hitting the stone and the wind moving through the pines behind us.
"You're not going into the city tomorrow," I murmur, my voice sounding rough against the top of her head.
She lifts her head slightly, her hazel eyes heavy and dark. "What? Killian, I have three intake reports and a board meeting."
"I called Jackson," I say, pulling her closer into the warmth of the water. "Your meetings are gone. The foundation can survive without you for twenty-four hours. We’re staying right here."
She lets out a slow breath, her body going loose against mine. "A whole day?"
"Just us," I promise. I reach for the robe I left on the stone ledge, pulling a small velvet box from the pocket. I open it, the heart-shaped diamond catching the steam, and her mouth falls open.
"Turn around," I murmur.
She turns around, her skin dewy from the water. I fix the chain around her neck, and my fingers brush the word engraved on the back: Always.
She’s quiet for a long second, her fingertip tracing around the diamond as she reads the word against her skin. When she turns back to me, she pulls me into her, her forehead hard against mine.
"Always?" she whispers.
"Always."
I slide my hand up her wet neck to keep her right where she is.
"I’m not sharing you with the city tomorrow," I say, my breath hot against her ear. "I’m not sharing you with anyone. I’m not finished with you yet. Not by a fucking long shot."