15. Killian
Killian
Ihold onto my wig as I crane my neck to the top of the high-rise building in front of me. The smoked glass glints gold in the rising autumn sun and I shudder.
“Killian! What’s wrong?” Malachy practically shouts down the line when my call connects, his voice scratched with sleep.
“Nothing.” Everything.
“Where are you?”
“Chicago.” Hell.
The mattress creaks as my brother adjusts his position. He’s getting ready to jump out of bed. Nothing I’ve said so far has put him at ease. “Has something happened?”
“No.” Not yet. “It’s all good.”
He blows out a breath. “So, you woke me up to tell me nothing?” he asks suspiciously.
“People do call each other just for a chat, you know?” Jesus, why is everyone so suspicious when I get in touch?
It’s been a few days since my meeting with Ash and I’ve already told Dad he expects the engagement to be broken off within weeks.
I’d mentioned how Duke’s been complaining about Katarina refusing to set a date, I just didn’t clarify that the date in question is for her escape plan.
Dad thinks she’s delaying because she’s infatuated with me, and he’s not wrong.
Katarina Barkov is obsessed with me. She has to be.
Why else would she invite me to take the biggest risk of my life and sneak into her apartment?
“What’s going on, Killian?” Malachy asks, not buying my reassurances.
“Jesus Christ, nothing,” I reply. I regret calling him now.
“I was just thinking how we’ve been at each other’s throats lately and we should make the effort.
I wanted you to know… you know…” I work my jaw but the words won’t come.
I want him to know I’m proud of him, and that I love him. “You’re alright, Mal.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line. And then… “Is this code? Has someone got a gun to your head?”
“No! I’m just trying to be nice. And the correct response is, you’re OK too, Killian.”
“Only when you’re not driving me fucking nuts,” Malachy fumes. There’s a thud as he drops back down onto his mattress. “You’re my big brother, Killian. It goes without saying that I look up to you, but–”
“No, buts,” I interrupt. “Glad we could have this talk, but I’ll be getting on now.”
“Killian, you can’t fu–”
I cut the call. We can argue later. I just needed to clear the air. For all I know, I could get knocked down crossing this street. Anything could happen and I’d hate for my brother to be left with regrets about the last time we spoke. It wasn’t quite a hallmark moment, but good enough.
Following the instructions Katarina gave me, I send a text to let her know I’m here. She replies immediately and tells me to wait for her to confirm it’s safe to enter her building. That confirmation comes through less than a minute later.
The high-security entrance doors open without me having to press a button and I enter a foyer that reeks of privilege.
It’s all black gloss and gold and the concierge has epaulettes on the shoulders of his uniform.
I give him a confident nod and he doesn’t challenge me as I head for the penthouse elevator.
As I’m carried upwards to meet my fate, I stare at my reflection in the smoked glass mirrors.
I know exactly what Malachy would say if he knew what I was doing.
I’ve walked into plenty of traps before, but never one with so many red flags.
I’m ignoring every one. Katarina promised she’d disable all the security, and so far that promise is holding up. I trust her.
I haven’t seen Katarina in person since our little falling out and our only communication has been via text.
She says her phone has been adapted to send and receive messages that circumvent the Bratva’s surveillance, but no software is foolproof.
What if our messages have been intercepted?
What if the invitation isn’t from Katarina at all?
I should have asked her something only she would know, like the name of my wig.
Too late now. I draw my Glock from beneath my suit jacket as the elevator stops.
When the doors open onto a small, marble-clad foyer, no one’s waiting to ambush me.
I step towards Katarina’s closed apartment door.
The control panel next to it has an intercom, but if the electronics are disabled the door won’t be locked.
I push it open, keeping my weapon raised.
Slowly, the door swings wider to reveal the first glimpse of the apartment’s shiny interior. Then wider still. Until…
“Hello, Shorty.”
Katarina stands at the far end of the corridor in a red silk robe and her killer heels. In one blink, she’s only wearing heels. The grip on my gun loosens.
“Close the door. It’s drafty in here.”
It could explain why her nipples are hardened peaks but I doubt it.
Stepping inside, I kick the door shut with my boot, then take a moment to absorb every inch of her body. I’ve seen and touched every part of Katarina, but in our tiny little oasis, I’ve never been able to admire her naked body from a distance.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” I say in awe. “You’re like no fantasy I ever had because my imagination couldn’t conjure a beauty as perfect as you.”
“I have my flaws.”
“There’s only one I can think of,” I say, shoving my gun into my shoulder holster. When she arches an eyebrow, I add, “Your last name.”
I catch a flash of pain cross her face, and as I take a step towards her, she stops me.
“Take off that damn wig.”
I swipe Patrick off my head and rake my fingers through my damp scalp.
“On your knees, Mr. McConkey.”
The sensible thing to do would be to ask how she got me through all the layers of security and where her bodyguards are hiding. Or at the very least I should check how she’s going to get me out again. But I don’t. I get down onto my knees like a good boy.
“Stay,” she orders when she sees I’m about to drop to all fours.
My grin is so wide my cheeks hurt as I watch Katarina Barkov sashay towards me, her heels clicking on the quartz tiled floor. Each step sends a jolt of pleasure up my spine and I could blow my load without even touching her. But not touching her is a terrible fucking idea.
“Come to me, Kitty,” I demand as her shadow looms. “Open those legs for me.”
She stops in front of me, her legs shoulder-width apart. “You don’t get to give the orders, Shorty. I’m in charge.”
“Is that so?”
I wrap my arms around Katarina’s thighs and force her to shift her stance.
She’s about to say something, but I press my mouth to her pussy, parting her with a firm flick of my tongue that makes her gasp back any objection.
I spear her deeper, trailing the tip of my tongue from her entrance to her clit where I run figures of eight around her swollen bud until her breaths become shaky.
“You’re such a needy, little mess,” I say, my chin glistening with her arousal as I grin up at her. “You want more?”
She arches an eyebrow. “I’ll permit you to continue,” she says. “Until I say stop.”
I sit back on my heels first and shrug out of my jacket. I’m not ready to take off my shoulder holster so I roll up my sleeves. Slowly.
Making her wait backfires because Katarina is anything but patient. Her hand snakes over her belly and down between her legs. I almost forget how to turn my cuffs as I watch her play with herself. Her hips roll against the pressure of her middle and pointer fingers.
I’m painfully hard, too hard to be constrained any longer. Mesmerized by her performance, I don’t look away as I unbuckle my belt, undo my pants and take out my cock. Katarina’s eyes are hooded as I grip my shaft and run my fist up and down my length from root to tip.
“See what you do to me, Kitty?”
Oh, she sees. Her hand moves faster. Her breathing becomes choppier.
I snatch her hand away before she can completely unravel. “That’s my job, Kitty,” I say as I go down on her again.
I tease gasps of pleasure from my woman with my lips, my tongue and my fingers while I continue to fist my cock. My fingers are inside her when her pussy swells and tightens. She’s close.
“Killian,” she gasps. “Stop.”
I’m enjoying the way she trembles too much. I don’t stop until she yanks me away by my hair.
“Stop.”
I lick my lips. “I know you’re trying to convince yourself you’re in control, lovely, but in case you haven’t worked it out yet, we’re both out of control. So fucking far out of control I don’t see a way back.”
“Killian…”
I don’t want to hear whatever warning is on her lips. I rise to my feet and as I scoop her into my arms, she wraps her arms around my neck and demands our first kiss.
Katarina’s fingers thread through my hair as she plunders my mouth and I plunder hers. We give and we take. Permission is a given. What’s mine is hers, what’s hers is mine.
“There had better be a fucking bed in here,” I say, pulling away so I can work out where we need to go.
“Second door on the left,” she says while peppering my neck with kisses.
When I see the size of her bed, I swear I die and go to heaven.
I drop Katarina onto the mattress, none too carefully in my eagerness to make the most of all this space.
She rests back on her elbows as she watches me strip.
Fuck my holstered gun and the knife strapped to my ankle.
When I crawl onto the bed, I’m bollock naked.
“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of getting you on a bed big enough to take us both and all the ways I’m going to fuck you,” I say as I settle between her legs. “How long do we have?”
Katarina presses her lips together and shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about time limits. Fuck me, Killian,” she says, wrapping her fist around my pulsing cock and drawing the tip along the seam of her slick pussy.
My balls throb and the need to thrust is too much. “Put it in, Kitty.” Not an order. A plea.
Once I’m seated at her entrance, I snatch her wrist away and pin her arms over her head. I give no warning as I punch forward, and Katarina cries out as I bury myself deep inside her.