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“Yes or no, Genevieve,” Killian asked. “Which is it? Do you want me to stop, or do you want me to continue? I need you to tell me.”
I adored this man and his respect for my boundaries but asking me to use real words after several mind-blowing orgasms was unreasonable.
“Need you. Now.” Yeah, that would have to do.
“Okay.” He grinned that all-knowing smirk of his. I groaned in frustration when his head dipped back down and his tongue circled my clit, making him chuckle. “Do you not want my tongue, princess?”
“Need. Dick.”
“God, I love fucking you senseless.” He crawled his way up my body, his tongue sweeping across my skin. “And I haven’t even used my dick yet.”
Pushing my legs open wider, he settled between them. He slid inside me one inch. Only one inch. I glanced down the length of our bodies and groaned.
“Fuck’s sake,” I gasped, desperate for more than his teasing. But that gorgeous grin on his face as he did so was sexy to look at.
“Is there a problem, princess?” he had the audacity to ask. I grabbed his face and kissed him hard—tongue and teeth, growls and groans colliding. I raked my nails over his shoulders and dug my heels into his thighs.
“Now, Ian,” I murmured against his mouth. “I want you now.”
My head fell back on the pillow with a delighted moan, eyes sliding shut, as he drove into me. Over and over. Fast and hard. My hips met every thrust, his fingers wound through mine. I chanted his name, his teeth sank into my shoulder. We were slick with sweat as he kept up the pace.
My muscles fluttered around him as he stroked that magic spot with every precise stroke of his dick. His teeth dragged over my ear, and his warm breath fanned my face.
“Come on my cock, princess. Let me fucking feel you fall apart for me,” Killian whispered. His words and encouragement did ridiculous things. Heat surged through my core as my muscles tightened almost painfully. “That’s it, baby girl. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you let go.”
I came hard, my body pulling him in deeper. The feel of it sent him crashing over the edge with me. His dick pulsated as he bottomed out with his release. That little satisfied groan he let out as he lost it was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard.
His lips touched that spot under my ear as he shifted and braced himself over me. I wrapped my body tighter around him, unwilling to let him go.
“Give me ten, and I’m going to start all over again,” he promised—something I knew he was capable of. The man had no downtime. As if to agree, his dick twitched inside me.
“But sleep,” I said. I ran my fingers through his hair, my nails scraping his scalp just the way he liked. The shudder that rolled through his body was my reward.
“I don’t want to sleep,” he replied. “I want to stay right here all night long.”
Oh. Reality crashed through the sex-induced euphoria, bringing doubt and worry with it. I’d read about this when scouring the internet for more information about bipolar disorder.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly. The little nagging voice in my head told me this wasn’t him—that he wouldn’t come home in such a good mood or wake me for sex.
“Yes.” His lips dusted over my pulse. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s just…” I chewed my lip. I suddenly felt stupid for asking. “I just read that sometimes with bipolar, hypersexuality can be a thing.”
He stilled. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“It’s just the middle of the night, and you’ve never been the kind of guy to wake me up in the middle of the night. I don’t mind or anything, but to keep going… I just wonder if you really want me or if…”
The dark look on his face shut me up.
“Do not ever confuse my hypomania with my desire for you,” Killian said, all tones of playfulness gone from his voice. “My hypomania presents as irritability and anger. Everything fucking bothers me. The world is loud and frustrating. I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I don’t eat, and I can’t deal with people. It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with my sex drive or the way I want you. I want you because I find you utterly fascinating in every way, Genevieve. Always have. Even when you used to bully the hell out of me. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Weirdly, it made me feel better, even if all the other stuff worried me. I’d seen that in him so many times before and never stopped to think it was more. “I’m sorry.”
“The way you care is a fucking turn-on, princess,” he continued and kissed my cheek. “The way you smile, your laugh, your charm… the little dance you do when you eat something you love… the way you sing in the shower. All of it… a fucking turn-on. Your eyes, your hips, that little dip in your neck… your ass… god, your ass could kill a man especially in those fucking leggings of yours.”
I burst out giggling.
“I’m serious, baby girl. That ass should be illegal,” he reiterated. “Thank fuck you wear long sweaters with them or I’d have to follow you around to kill every fucking man who stared. It’d be a full-time job.”
