CHAPTER 46
KILLIAN'S POV
I woke up with a pounding headache, and the bitter taste of whisky still clawing at the back of my throat.
The light seeping through the curtains didn't help.
It was stabbing straight into my skull, making my head feel as if it was splitting in two.
My entire body was heavy, sore, and I could still smell the perfume of the woman from last night on my sheets.
But thankfully, I had kicked her out. I don't even remember what I told her.
Something crude, I'm sure. She had no business being in my bed.
She was never supposed to be there in the first place.
But even that wasn't what woke me.
It was the fucking heat.
Not the regular kind, the kind that creeps under your blanket, making you sweat under your arms.
This one? It was maddening.
I shot up, throwing the covers off, my body burning like I'd swallowed fire.
My cock was hard. Not just hard, it was thick, heavy, throbbing, and worse than anything I'd ever experienced.
I had morning wood before, yes, but this…
This was something else. It felt like my cock was pulsing in sync with some rhythm I couldn't understand.
Like something primal inside me was howling for her. For Liana.
"Fuck," I muttered, dragging my palm down my face. "No, no, no. What the hell is this?"
I kicked my legs off the bed, stormed into the bathroom, half-limping from how rock-hard I was.
I stood in front of the mirror, scowling at my reflection.
I looked like hell. Bloodshot eyes, lips cracked, hair a mess.
And yet all I could think about was Liana.
Her face, her mouth, the sound of her voice when she moaned, the way her thighs trembled when I touched her. Her goddamn scent.
I grabbed my cock, jerking it in my hand, hoping the burn would ease, hoping I could force this need out of me.
But the more I stroked, the worse it got.
The ache deepened. My cock got harder, impossibly harder, and it wasn't fucking working.
"Goddamn it," I growled, biting down on my lip, trying to focus on something—anything—other than her. I tried to picture things that would turn me off. Disgusting things. Things that usually killed my desire instantly.
But it didn't work.
Because every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was her.
My Liana.
The way she looked yesterday when I took her in that restroom.
The way she tasted.
The sound she made when she said my name.
I turned the shower knob, blasted the coldest water I could manage. It sprayed down my back, my chest, while I stood there trembling from how badly I needed her. But my cock didn't soften. I was still rock solid. Still burning.
I groaned, spat into my palm, and gripped myself harder.
"Liana…" I grunted, the name falling out of my mouth like a curse. "Fucking hell… Liana…"
I tried again. And again. Each stroke made me pant harder. My hand worked fast, furious, but it wasn't getting anywhere. There was no relief. No release. Just a deep, painful hunger that clawed at my chest, like I'd go insane if I didn't get to her.
My phone rang.
I ignored it. Didn't even check who it was. I was too far gone.
The ringing stopped. Then it started again.
And again.
"Fuck off!" I shouted.
It didn't stop.
I finally wrapped a towel around my waist, panting like I'd run ten miles, my cock still pushing against the fabric, and stomped out of the bathroom. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand.
Unknown number.
I answered, breath still heavy, hand clenched around the phone.
"What?" I barked, more impatient than anything else.
But the voice that came through wasn't what I expected.
"P-p-please… K-Killian… come to Liana… sh-she n-needs you… please… now—"
My entire body went still.
That voice was my stepfather's.
And he sounded terrified.
The line cut.
I didn't move at first. Just stood there, frozen, towel barely hanging from my hips, water still dripping from my hair, my cock still aching like hell, but now, suddenly, it didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered. Because something in his voice… Something in the way he said her name…
Something was wrong.
Very fucking wrong.
And she needed me.
I didn't think. Didn't stop to grab my belt, or even button my damn shirt. I just yanked on my trousers, shoved my arms through the sleeves of the first shirt I could find, keys already in my hand before I even reached the door.
I didn't care how I looked.
I didn't care who saw me.
All I knew was that my Liana needed me.
And I was going to her. Now.