Chapter 51 #2
I know he can taste his own blood on my lips, just as I can taste the salt of his sweat. It’s primal and intimate, stoking something inside me that wants to share everything with this man. Give him everything. Take everything he gives me.
He pulls back and looks into my eyes. “Do ya trust me?”
Somewhere in the background I can hear Michael’s ragged breaths and curses. The beautiful symphony of pain that Killian created because this man hurt me. If I had to name the song, it would be Devotion. “Yes.”
“Be right back.” He leaves me standing in front of Michael.
I force myself to raise my chin and look him in the face.
There’s blood seeping from his mouth, dripping thick strings onto his white dress shirt, which is soaked in blood over his ribs where Killian must’ve broken the skin, too.
His nose is crooked and swelling and dripping snot as I watch.
But his dark eyes are still staring back at me, defiant and mocking.
I’m almost impressed. Is he really arrogant enough to think death won’t come for him?
His voice is nasally, his words and breaths choppy with pain. “You think… you can have a normal life… with him? You’ll never be free of me, Samantha. I will live… in your head forever.”
I stare at him and it hits me. He’s just a man. Not a devil. Just flesh and blood… and broken bones, a flawed human who bleeds just like me.
My perspective is shifting like seismic plates in my mind.
I always thought I’d be running, looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.
That I’d have to hide Rona to keep her safe.
But is it possible I won’t? After all, he isn’t immortal, or even powerful right now.
He’s weak and bleeding, and if I know Killian, currently breathing his last breaths on earth.
But is he right? Will he live in my head? That’s the only question left.
Killian’s soft command comes from behind me. “Come here, love.”
I turn and see he’s brought a wooden chair over and is sitting in it, legs spread.
Turning my back on Michael, I walk to stand in between Killian’s powerful thighs. I place my hands on his bare shoulders while he grips my hips.
His eyes are fierce and swirling with emotion as he looks up at me. “You said you want him to know he didn’t break you. That you can be happy once he’s gone.”
I nod slowly, tilting my head, wondering where he’s going with this.
He slides his hands down my hips to my thighs. As he pushes my dress up my legs, his thumbs stroke my inner thighs softy, “Then show him. Show him how you are still capable of pleasure. That he didn’t fuckin’ break you.”
My heartbeat knocks in my chest as I realize what he’s asking me to do. I stare into his eyes, drawing strength from him. Can I actually do it? I turn my head to glance back at Michael, but Killian squeezes my thighs, bringing my attention back to him.
He shakes his head. “This isn’t about him. It’s about you. For you. Whatever he sees right now, I can promise you he’ll be takin’ to his grave.” Flicking out his tongue, running it over his bottom lip, he shows me the piercing that has given me so much pleasure.
My body immediately responds, my skin tingles, my core contracts. Leaning forward, I hold his gaze as I kiss him. My body softens, pulses, craves his. “More,” I whisper into his mouth. “More of you inside me.”
With a soft growl, his hand slides up, pushing aside my underwear. He slips one finger through my slickness and then pushes it inside me. “You’re so ready to show your devil how you come for me. Only me.”
I gasp. The blinding pleasure is instant, and I close my eyes, feeling the heat rush through my body.
I know Michael can’t see what Killian’s doing, but it gives me an unfamiliar thrill to know he can tell I’m feeling pleasure, to know I can feel pleasure in his presence.
I can feel pleasure despite the ways he tried to take it from me.
Killian adds a second finger and pumps deeper, grinding his palm against my clit. “Show him you’ll be more than fine, love. That you’ll be happy.”
A moan slips from my lips. Yes, this is what I need.
To show Michael it’s not me that’s broken.
That it’s not me who’s cold and dead. It’s him.
The wet sounds of Killian’s fingers fucking me beneath the dress Michael forced on me would be obscene, if it wasn’t a sweet victory.
And sweet revenge at the same time. I feel the orgasm building.
I press my mouth against Killian’s ear. “Your fingers feel incredible, but I need to come on your cock.”
He slides his fingers out of me, his eyes glittering and a smirk tugging at his beautiful mouth. “You need me to fuck you, Vixen?” he whispers, painting my lips with my own arousal.
I dart my tongue out and lick my bottom lip as I nod.
His eyes darken. “Take what you need then.” He lifts his middle finger, the one still coated with my wetness, and flips Michael off.
I huff out a dark laugh. I guess I’m not the only one being petty.
Michael is cursing and coughing now. I barely register the words slut and cunt.
Because everything falls away except Killian as I readjust my legs to straddle him. I no longer feel the cold bite of the basement air, the tart smell of mildew and blood, or hear anything but the sounds of our breath and our moans as we kiss and I reach between us, finding him hard as granite.
Our kiss deepens as I unzip his cargo pants and release him. The heat of his tongue tangling with mine and his thick, pulsing cock in my hand makes me drip down my thigh.
“Go on, love. I’m yours to take. Everything I have, everything I am is yours. My cock, my soul, my heart. It’s fuckin’ yours.” He holds the back of my neck in a crushing grip as his gaze bores into me. “And you, Sam, are mine.”
“Oh, God, Killian,” I choke on my emotions as I lift up, move my underwear to the side and guide him to my opening. I hold his gaze as I slowly lower myself onto his cock. His pieced head stretches me, fills me, sends pulses of desire deep into my womb.
By the time he’s fully seated inside me, my legs are trembling and we’re both breathing heavy. He bites my earlobe, licks it and then whispers, “I love you, too.” Then he grips my hips, lifts me up and slams me back down on his cock.
A cry rips from my throat as the mix of pain and pleasure short circuits my brain.
He pushes his hips upward, hitting my cervix with the piercing, and I almost come from the sensation. But then he holds still, letting me take the lead.
I dig my nails into his bare shoulders as I roll my hips, relishing the feel of being filled by him.
Grinding my clit against his pelvic bone, I do exactly what he said and take what I need.
Alternating grinding and sliding myself up and down on his shaft, I keep my gaze locked with his until I see the strain on his face as his jaw locks, his skin flushes.
The fact he’s on the edge has my inner walls spasming.
But then a trickle of shame creeps in, and it brings the reality of what I’m doing with it. I bury my face in Killian’s neck as I become aware of Michael behind me, watching me in this vulnerable position and the urge to disappear replaces the pleasure.
But only for a moment because I force myself to lean back and find Killian’s eyes. In them I see the gleam of love, of worship, of absolute devotion. It immediately washes away the shame, replacing it with a powerful, absolute knowing… I deserve happiness.
His hand reaches up and grips my hair in his fist as the other one reaches between us and rubs tight circles over my swollen clit. “Come for me, Vixen.”
I throw my head back and bite back a scream as the orgasm blows my soul out of my body. I’m nothing but pulsing nerve endings and sweet, sweet oblivion, pricks of light dotting my vision.
With one hard thrust, Killian finds his own release, erupting inside me as I’m still spasming around him. Fisting my hair, he pulls me to his mouth and kisses me hard and possessively. Eventually the kisses soften into slow strokes of our tongues and sweet sighs as we both come back to the room.
I pull back and take him in through hooded eyes. The emotions I’m feeling are reflected back at me in his gaze as he says, “Ready to finish this?”
“Ready,” I say. What I don’t say, and what I hope he can read in my eyes, is that I’m so ready for this ending, so we can have a new beginning. Together.
I stand and let him tuck himself back in before I move away. I don’t look at Michael, though. I don’t need to. He’s no longer a part of my story. He’s already a ghost that may haunt my thoughts once in a while, but I will not let him stay there for long.
Killian retrieves his shirt from the floor and pulls it back on. Then he walks over and picks up the gun from where he laid it on the table. In one swift motion, he chambers a round and turns to me. “Why don’t you go get Rona. I’ll be up in a second, and we’ll head to the hospital.”
I step into him, reach up and place my hand over his heart. “Thank you. For saving me. And for trusting me with this.” I pat his chest.
He lays his hand over mine and squeezes. He nods and then whispers, “Go on.”
Michael is yelling something as I’m walking out the door, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of paying attention. I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear the gunshot. I pause, close my eyes and feel my shoulders fall. It’s over.
We’re free.