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“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“It’s a horrible idea, Wylder. But I’ve gotten good at no-strings-attached fucking. I imagine you have too.”
“There haven’t been strings since you.”
Bullshit.
“If you’re going to tell me lies, do it with your body, not your words.”
“You think I’m lying,” he asks, and I nod. “Fine. Get your ass upstairs and strip.”
He doesn’t spare me a second glance when he climbs off me and heads up the stairs. I trail at a slower pace, building up every one of my walls and barriers. By the time I step through his bedroom door, the cage around my heart is securely locked.
This is nothing but sex. Hate sex, at that. Two bodies working out stress, finding release with each other, or a little retribution maybe. People do this all the time without any mess. Animals, too. That’s all this is, I’m a lioness waiting to get railed by the leader of her pride. Or some other kind of nonsense… It won’t be the first time I fucked a hot guy simply because he looks good. Why should this be any different? Besides maybe our pent up animosity will only make it better.
Cillian is pulling his shirt over his head as I walk in. His blonde hair, still a little long due to the off-season, falls over his forehead. Instinctively, I reach out to brush it away. He shivers under the brief touch.
“Have you gotten any better at following instructions?”
“I guess you’ll have to find that out for yourself,” I answer after a laugh. I’ve always been obstinate, but I don’t mind being bossed around a little in the bedroom these days.
“I told you to strip.”
Raising a brow at him, I slide the side zipper of my sundress down and let it all fall off me. It’s hard, standing in front of a man whose chiseled form is what men dream to have and women dream to have over them. All while my body is showing a different sort of life. I don’t hide it though, and he takes everything that my bandeau and tiny panties show.
Cillian takes his time with his perusal. Small infernos ignite on my skin as his eyes dart all over my skin. When he pauses at the belly that’s not quite flat, I pull it in.
“Don’t.” He drops to his knees, placing his hands on my hips. “Don’t hide where she grew. Where she lived while you nourished every part of her.”
How am I supposed to survive words like that?
“I bet I don’t look like the women you usually fuck.” We both realize my defense mechanism.
“None have been nearly as beautiful.”
“I told you I don’t want to hear your lies.”
He stands back up and turns me toward the full-length mirror leaning against the wall behind me. Towering behind me, his arms wrap around me. One strong arm snakes up between my breasts to firmly grip my throat. The other, a stark contrast as it gently caresses my lower abdomen.
“Look at you.” The words softly breeze at my ear. “I’ve never seen you so beautiful. Though I can imagine how damned gorgeous you were when your belly was swollen with Sadie. I hate you for not letting me share that. I also love you in fathomless amounts for gifting her to this world. She’s everything, but she’s everything because this body protected her until she was strong enough to come into her own. Don’t ever fucking hide that from me again.”
I have no response to that. It’s possibly the best thing anyone has ever said to me. Yet, I’m not ready to admit that to him.
The hand on my belly lowers, his fingers sliding under the thin lace barrier. Cillian still wears his jeans; the rough denim skates along my lower back at the same time a finger parts me and teeth nip at my earlobe.
“I hated you for moving on,” I say, gasping when his hand tightens the barest amount. “I hated you for leaving me behind.”
“I never moved on,” he tells me, deep and angry. “I didn’t mean to leave you behind. You should have been with me, so I could keep you wet like this all the time.”
“You never asked me to go.” Trying to focus on my anger is futile with his magic touch.
“I regretted it every day after I left,” he says, thrusting two fingers inside me. “Fuck, you feel good. Yeah, Isla, suck my fingers in.”
Oh God.
Dirty talk was never in Cillian’s arsenal before. Before our separation, before Trina, before the countless women. What other new tricks has he learned?
“You’re going to come on my fingers first. I won’t fuck you until you do. Okay?” My knees turn to jelly when he pushes his palm onto my clit. “Answer Isla, I need to know you’re here with me. Understand?”
