“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry. It’s not your fault. None of that is.”
He grinds his teeth.
“God, I’m such a screw up. Now I’m crying.”
“I don’t ever wanna make you cry,” he tells me.
I nod, smiling. “Happy tears. For you. You’ve been amazing, Killian.”
“I don’t mind giving you those kinds of tears, beautiful, but not right when I wanna be fucking you. Tears are kinda a boner killer for me.”
“Boner?” I roll my eyes.
He gives me a stern look. “You on a quest to not get lucky tonight, Dimples?”
“Okay, I’ll stop talking. Kissing me might help.”
His mouth comes to mine and I’m on the verge of an ugly-cry, because how come he’s so perfect? How did this happen? Two weeks ago I was in the depths of despair.
He’s lifted me out of that awful place, taken me up high in the sky into this beautiful apartment and treated me like a princess.
What did I do to deserve this?
Is karma apologizing to me right now for what I endured with Ray and now I’m getting rewarded for all that?
I have no idea.
All I know is that Killian is touching me like I’m a prize he’s not just won, that I’m someone he prayed he’d get to win. He’s looking at me like he wants me, making me feel like a new version of who I used to be. He’s helping me sand away the veneer of ugliness that built up on me while Ray hurt me again and again.
I don’t wanna move too fast and screw this up. I also don’t wanna push him away and screw this up.
I need Susanna. I need girlfriend time. I’m glad I’m getting that tomorrow.
I’m under him, things are hot and heavy as he puts his mouth on my breast and kisses his way up to my lips, as he wraps my leg around his hip and then locks eyes with me as he slowly slides in. A muscle jumps in his cheek and then his lips part as pleasure envelopes his face.
“Lookin’ forward to this after we get tested, baby,” he says.
I nod. “I’ll do it as soon as possible.”
“I will too. Can’t wait.”
I cup his jaw in both hands and pull his mouth toward mine.
And then he rolls and I’m on top. He pulls both my knees tight to his side and orders, “Ride me, Violet.” He then lets go of my legs to grab my boobs.
A whimper escapes my lips as I adjust to the depth, at how this feels – so deep, so full. Killian’s hand drifts down my boob, whispering its way across my ribcage until his thumb is between us, toying with me as I rock back and forth with him inside me.
This feels incredible.
“Do the thing,” he whispers.
“Hm?” I ask. “The thing?”
“Make your pussy squeeze me.”
Tingles spread through me at his dirty-talk.
I tighten around him and the sound he makes – it encourages me to do it again. And again. I squeeze around him as I rock, as his fingers pick up pace. I grab the top of his headboard for better leverage. Once I have hold of it, I rock with more force onto his cock, against his fingers, watching how he looks at me, how his chest rises and falls with his breathing, how his throat moves as he swallows, the way his neck muscles strain as he loses himself to the sensations he’s getting from me. My breathing pace quickens, and I’m fast-tumbling over the edge toward an orgasm, my head lolling back and my eyes losing focus.
“Come, baby. I wanna see it, though. Look in my eyes when you do,” he orders.
I look down at his face and it’s a beautiful sight to behold as I fall over that cliff into a blissful state of euphoria. His eyes scorch me, his touch owns me.
Before I’ve come all the way to the other side of it, he’s turning me to my back so he can power into me over and over, staring into my eyes, holding my face. I wrap my legs around his middle and cry out a garbled version of his name as my orgasm turns into a second one, a deeper one because as he spills into me, eyes on mine, mouth just inches away, he grunts my name and then collapses onto me, face buried beside my ear.
My heart is beating so hard it feels like it might explode out of my chest.
I breathe, like I’ve been running for my life. I try to catch my breath and stop myself from bursting into tears again because sex has never been this good, never been this intimate. I’ve never felt so seen, so wanted before.
“Apple juice?” he asks, his voice a rumbly murmur into my ear.
I nod. “That sounds amazing. I think you killed me. Apple juice might bring me back. Maybe.”