Chapter 28
My eyes snap open as the sound of Killian’s groans seep through the walls, the same distressed cries that woke me last night.
A tiny part of me wonders if I should just turn over and go back to sleep, not wanting to wear his hand as a collar for a second night in a row, that’s not to say I wouldn’t under different circumstances, if you catch my drift.
But I can’t leave him to suffer the horrors that torture his unconscious mind.
I climb out of bed and pad across the room barefoot, slipping inside the box room next door where he’s sleeping.
He’s facing away from me on his side, his body twitching as he mumbles something I can’t quite make out.
During the night, he’s kicked the covers off him, they now lie crumpled and twisted by his feet, leaving him bare except for a pair of black boxers.
My heart pounds as I drop to my knees beside him. “Killian,” I say, my hand hesitant as I gently nudge his arm.
He startles awake, rolling onto his back as his hand shoots out, taking my face in his palm this time. Unlike last night, he’s wide awake and he sees me, not whoever haunts his dreams.
His hand lingers on my skin, his touch surprisingly gentle. “You shouldn’t be here,” he grumbles, his voice thick with sleep. His hand falls away as he rolls over, giving me his back. “Leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say defiantly.
He sighs. “Then I’ll leave.” He pushes to his feet and brushes past me, heading for the bedroom door.
I jump up and dart around him, blocking his path.
His jaw tightens. “Move, Kaia.”
I straighten my spine, rising to my tiptoes so it draws me to eye level. Almost. “No.”
He rests his palm against the door behind me with a sigh, his hand directly beside my head and I shrink back to my usual height as he towers over me. I have to crane my neck to look up at him.
“Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn?” he grumbles.
“Why do you have to be such an ass?” I counter.
“Is it such a crime to not want to see you suffer? I don’t know what’s causing your nightmares, I’m guessing it’s something to do with your time in prison, or what happened with your mom, and I’m not going to ask you to tell me.
I know you will if you want to and I’ll be here ready to listen if you do.
” I take a breath, placing my palm against the racing beat of his heart.
“Killian, you’ve been through so much in your life, you’ve been abandoned by the people who were supposed to love and protect you.
I guess I just want you to know you’re not alone, not anymore.
I’m here and I’m not going to leave you.
I don’t want to be the one you run from, if you’re struggling, I want to be the one you run to.
I know yo—” My rambling words are swallowed up when he slams his mouth down onto mine, and it takes a few seconds for my brain to catch up.
Killian’s kissing me.
The man who doesn’t kiss is kissing me.
And it feels unreal. Surreal.
Am I dreaming?
Our lips part, his brows pulling tight as his eyes flick back and forth between mine, almost as if the kiss surprised him as much as it did me.
He’s going to pull back, I know it. He’s going to tell me it was all a mistake, a moment of weakness that won’t be repeated and I’ll be forced to pretend it never happened. Forced to go on and ignore the feelings he stirs inside me, forced to pretend that that kiss wasn’t everything.
I brace myself for it. Ready myself for that sinking sensation in my stomach I’m certain is coming when he releases my face.
But it never comes. He takes my mouth again, only harder this time.
Hungrier.
He pushes me backwards against the door, his fingers diving into my hair as he deepens the kiss, his warm soft lips gliding effortlessly over mine like he was made to do this.
The coarseness of his beard grazes my delicate skin and I welcome the burn, it only stokes the fire simmering low in my belly.
For a man who doesn’t kiss, he’s sure good at it.
I lock my hands around his wrists to steady myself, his kiss making me heady. It has me feeling like I’m drunk, and I suppose I am. I’m drunk on him, drunk on his kiss, in the way his tongue skims the seam of my lips, searching for entry into my mouth and it’s hard not to lose myself in his touch.
It feels so good.
I want to remember this kiss, savour the feeling in case this is the first and last time I ever feel it.
He controls the kiss and it soon becomes frenzied and messy. His hands are everywhere; in my hair, cupping my face, grasping at any part of me he can get his hands on as if he can’t get enough, his weight pressing me further against the door like he can’t get close enough.
He’s a perfect contradiction. His lips are soft but his kiss hard and demanding. The desperation in his touch a sharp contrast to the languid strokes of his tongue against mine.
He bends to lift me, guiding my legs around his waist as he pins me between his body and the door, grinding the hardening bulge in his boxers against me and I grow more desperate for him with each roll of his hips.
“I can’t stop kissing you,” he pants against my mouth before diving back in for more.
My body hums, my lips tingling.
“Then don’t,” I reply breathlessly, my heart beating wildly against my ribs, never wanting this feeling to end.
My fingers rake through the dark, silky locks of his hair, pulling it free from the rubber band that ties it all together at the back of his head, allowing it to fall free.
“I fucking need you, butterfly. Say I can have you,” he rasps.
“You have me. I want this. I want you.” I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
He drops me back onto my feet. “Need to get you ready to take me. Need to get you nice and wet.”
Well, after a kiss like that, it shouldn’t take long.
The ache between my thighs intensifies when he sinks to his knees in front of me, taking my panties along with him.
Throwing a leg over his shoulder, he buries his face in my pussy and eats me like a man enjoying his last meal on death row.
My hands find his hair as I grind myself against his face.
His beard tickles the inside of my thighs, the friction only turning me on more as he licks me.
His tongue dips inside me before moving back up to my clit.
He sucks it between his lips I scream, unable to contain it.
He glances up at me. “Show me those tits while I eat you, baby.”
I lift my pyjama top and pull it over my head, tossing it onto the floor.
He releases a deep throaty groan. “Good girl. Play with them,” he instructs, his heated gaze never leaving me as his mouth continues its assault on my pussy.
My head tips back against the door, my eyes fluttering closed as bolts of pleasure shoot through me. My breasts are heavy in my hands as I squeeze them, my sensitive nipples hard enough to cut through diamonds as I pinch them between my fingers.
I peer down to find Killian watching me, an arm wrapped around the thigh resting on his shoulder, his free hand between his legs, rubbing himself through the fabric of his boxers.
Seeing him touching himself while he pleasures me with his mouth has me careening over the edge as I climax. I shudder as my orgasm wracks through my body, my fingers fisting his hair so hard it has to be painful for him, but he doesn’t seem to care.
My body jerks and twitches from the aftershocks of my release, rippling through me as I start to come down.
He pulls back with a satisfied smirk before rising to his feet, taking my mouth with his. I can taste myself on his lips as his tongue slips inside my mouth, it’s filthy and erotic and I love it.
He bends to lift me, my legs locking around his waist as he carries me across the room, lowering me down onto the mattress on the floor without breaking the kiss.
Bracing himself above me, he kisses a trail down the column of my throat, across my chest before taking my left nipple between his lips.
He sucks on it, swirling his tongue around the hardened tip.
His eyes never leave mine, not once. Every flick of his tongue, every graze of his teeth against my sensitive skin sends lightning bolts of pleasure between my legs.
My body’s a live wire. Every nerve ending in overdrive.
He reaches down between us to play with my pussy, circling his fingers over my swollen clit while he sucks on my nipples. My back arches off the mattress, a cry of pleasure escaping me. He switches to the right, offering it the same treatment, his hair tickling my skin.
I reach between us, doing my best to tug down Killian’s boxers with the limited room I have.
He releases my nipple with a pop. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I nod, not a single shred of hesitation in my reply.
He rises up onto his knees, allowing me to hook my fingers into the waistband and pull down his underwear.
My eyes are drawn to his hard cock that juts out of his body and I gasp. It’s long and thick and perfect. My mouth salivates.
“You’re right, there really is nothing small about you.”
He chuckles. “Damn right. You’ll thank me later when I make you come so hard your legs are shaking.”
I reach for his cock without even thinking. The skin is surprisingly smooth and I trace the thick vein that runs the entire length with my finger before circling it and stroking him from root to tip.
“That feels so fucking good,” Killian groans, his head tipping back slightly, his lips parted on a moan.
I keep stroking him, revelling in the sounds I draw from him and it’s arousing to see how my touch affects him.
A shiver wracks through his body as a bead of pre cum appears at the tip of his cock. “If you keep touching me like this, butterfly, I’m not gonna last long enough to be inside you.” He removes my hand before rising to his feet.
There’s a small cabinet in the corner of the room and he reaches into it for a condom. I watch as he rips open the foil packet and slides it down his length.