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“And you never should’ve hurt my wife,” I said. With that, I walked away. His pleas followed me out the door and vanished as Lane’s spell swallowed them alive.
I paused on the porch to stare up at the cloudy night sky. Was I a bad man for what I brought Lane in to do? Absolutely.
But did I care? Not a chance in hell.
Phillip Goodwin would never hurt my wife again. That was the only thing that fucking mattered.
Chapter 88
Genevieve
Wake up, princess.” The words floated through my head, a little tug pulling at my hazy fog. I moaned in protest. Something warm ran up the side of my neck, igniting every nerve along the way. I wiggled as the sensation melted through me, but the weight pinning me down made it nearly impossible. “Come on, now, baby girl. Wake up for me.”
“But sleep,” I mumbled.
“Is sleep more important than my tongue on your pussy?” That question made me pop open an eye—only one though. Killian’s breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “There’s my sinful princess.”
His words shot like lightning through my core, and my pussy clenched. Damn him and that deep voice of his. Calling me names like that. How was I supposed to go back to sleep with my lady parts reporting for duty?
I moaned as his rough hands pushed up the hem of my shirt and continued their way up. His thumbs teased my nipples and toyed with my piercings.
“Oh…” I let out. His mouth found mine, stealing my very breath. Mint exploded on my tongue when his drove through my lips. I ate up the growl that vibrated through him and reveled in the heaviness of his dick as it pressed into my thigh.
Lifting on his knees, he grabbed my shirt and dragged me with him to yank it over my head in one swift movement. I squealed as I flopped back on the bed. His mouth drifted between my breasts and down my stomach.
“May I?” he asked, his lips skating over my hip and fingers hooking in my panties. I nodded. “Put those pretty legs over my shoulders, baby girl. Let me spoil you tonight.”
“Like that’ll ever happen.” I giggled as I lifted my hips for him to pull down my panties. Grabbing my legs, he tossed them over his shoulders and made himself comfortable.
“I’m more than happy with keeping my face between these gorgeous fucking thighs all night,” Killian growled. To prove his point, he ran his tongue through my wetness once, eliciting a tiny gasp from me.
“You know your tongue always makes me want your dick,” I said. It did. I was terrible at foreplay when we weren’t in our roles. Every time he started, I just wanted to jump on his dick. I should’ve felt more guilty about that whole thing than I did.
“I don’t have to fuck you, princess,” he murmured against my clit. I squirmed, those little vibrations of his words doing wicked things to me. “No matter how many times I make you come, no matter how much you beg, I can stay right fucking here and keep my dick to myself.”
He nipped gently at my piercing.
“Ian!” I exclaimed. My fingers flew to his hair, threading through his locks and grasping tight. His name was all the encouragement he needed as he lavished me with years of expertise. The man was magic with that tongue alone. Every stroke, every nibble, every dip carried me higher until I was writhing against his face. Perfectly timed growls added a vibration that only heightened the experience. His name fell off my lips in fractured pieces as my breath hitched in my throat repeatedly. With my hands nearly tearing his hair out, I begged, “Please! Please… please… please…”
“No asking tonight, princess,” Killian whispered. “Let go. I want every fucking orgasm I can get out of you, you understand?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. When his mouth sealed around my clit and his tongue did that thing I loved, I came completely undone. His arms locked around my thighs as he held me securely to him until I was a shaking mess. I slapped him desperately on the shoulder.
“Please,” I pleaded. He grabbed my wrists, chuckling as I tried to keep hitting him like that was a brilliant way to convey my message. Panting and single-syllable words were getting me nowhere. I moaned as he pinned my hands to the bed and continued to lazily lap me up. I whined, “Ian!”
“Should I stay here all night long, baby girl?” he asked. I whimpered. That sounded a lot like torture. I was empty and wanting—needing him—and the damn man was determined to stay between my thighs with only his tongue?
Yeah, torture.
“No, no, no,” I said almost frantically. “Please. I want you.”
“You have me.” As if I needed the reminder, he buried his face in my pussy and didn’t stop until I was screaming my way through another orgasm. That smug grin he gave me as I collapsed against the pillow was utterly intoxicating. “See? You have me.”
“Killian,” I whispered because it was the only word my brain could come up with.
“Orgasm number three?” He cocked a brow. When I couldn’t come up with a single thing to say in protest, he dove right back in. Relentless, ruthless, and rough. He devoured me like a man starved. He didn’t stop until I absolutely shattered under his touch, my legs shaking violently over his shoulder and my fingers clawing at the bed. I was liquid heat, melting into the sheets uncontrollably as every nerve in my body went haywire. He released my hand and smoothed his palm over my stomach. “Breathe, princess. Do I need to stop?”
“Yes,” I whispered breathlessly. Without question, he backed off, sending me into a panic. I reached for him. “No, no! Wait!”
