The smile he bestowed on me was blinding. “Your wish…”
He pushed my legs up and over his shoulders, opening me wide for him. He drove inside me, harder and faster. Sharp pleasure shot through me with each thrust, and I moaned. I wanted to tell him to touch my clit, but couldn’t, not when all my throat could produce was moans and sighs and ragged cries. My senses were out of control, and the tension in my belly grew tighter—almost painful.
Then it broke—a scalding-hot climax. I screamed, my fingers digging into his sweat-slick muscles. Fireworks seemed to go off inside me, and I shuddered and clung to him helplessly while he continued to have his way with me, driving me crazy and weak with pleasure.
He grasped my hair and kissed me hard before he gave one final thrust and came inside me. Then he held me tightly in his arms as though I was the most priceless treasure in the world.
Chapter Thirty-One
Emily
By the time we showered and came downstairs, it was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch.
“Looks like a day for brunch,” said Killian.
“Where’s Mir?” I asked, resting my hip against the kitchen counter. I was in one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxer shorts. They were both too large, but with a safety pin, the shorts stayed put around my waist.
“She went to Sunny’s, but it’ll be a while. What are you in the mood for?”
“Coffee. And anything you want to eat is fine…” I trailed off as I spotted a juicer on the counter. I hadn’t seen that while making the scampi. An unpleasant possibility went through my mind. My mom had bought a juicer l
ast year and told me I should too so I could just “drink” my vegetables, since I didn’t like eating them like a good, responsible adult.
“Kale’s so good for you,” she’d claimed, but it seemed to me that kale was a slow-acting poison, one of those silent killers. There was no other explanation for its vile taste, and you’d never know until it was too late.
I cleared my throat. “Well… ‘Anything’ as long as it’s not kale or Brussels sprout juice or something gross like that.”
“Why would I feed you something so terrible?” Killian said.
I indicated the juicer. “Because you have one of these torture machines.”
He laughed. “Ah. I made some carrot and apple juice and forgot to put it away. Want some?”
I pulled back, my body stiff. “No thanks. Like I said, I don’t do veggies before noon.” Actually, I preferred not to do veggies at all.
“Aye, milady.”
He stowed the juicer and pulled out a couple of presliced bagels. As he put them into the toaster, knocks came from the door.
Probably Mir coming back from the market. “I got it,” I said, since he was busy in the kitchen.
When I opened the door, a tall, dark-haired guy with a pretty, sun-kissed face was standing there. He looked really familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him. He wasn’t from Kingstree—I would’ve remembered somebody this good-looking if I’d run into him in town.
There were several women hovering behind him. They had a rainbow of different hair colors: golden, brown, apple red, black, pink and purple. Gorgeously tanned, the six were dressed in skintight dresses with perfect hair and makeup, their feet in hooker heels that made my feet ache just from looking. The six had such huge breasts and tiny waists that they looked like a collection of living, breathing Barbies.
And they all had their phones out and were snapping selfies in different poses.
I stared, unable to process the scene. Kingstree was a nice, normal small town. It didn’t have people like the women in front of me. Otherwise I would’ve heard about them from some gossip-loving resident. Or one of the cashiers at Sunny’s Mart.
Actually, now that I thought about it, the women reminded me of the groupies I’d seen in some of Killian’s photos on the Internet…
The man was looking at me with puzzlement. “Isn’t this Killian’s house?” He turned to the Barbie Sextet. “Babe, can you check the address?”
All of them moved to do his bidding. “Two-five-zero,” the blonde said, snapping a picture of the numbers. She had a slight accent.
“Huh. Should be it,” he said. “And hey, delete that pic. I told you, no personal info on the net.” The blonde pouted but did as he asked.
Okay, time to get to the bottom of this. “Who are you?”