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Fuck, the way that soft half-whine crawls beneath my skin. If she wants me to stop, she’s on the wrong fucking track.
The intensity of my desire ramps up a notch, and I bite her soft skin. She cries out, but not in pain, just surprise. I’ve never bitten her thigh before. My name leaves her lips again, but it’s no objection this time. It’s surrender. It’s raw need. It’s an invisible spell she casts that wraps around me and pulls me closer to her, that winds around my throat so I can’t breathe without my mouth on her body.
Despite her attempts at decency and what I’m sure is legitimate concern we’ll be caught, her thighs open wider for me. She wants me to stop, but she needs my mouth on her.
And I need it too, so I yank aside her panties and tongue her entrance.
A sharp cry escapes her and her body shifts. She nearly slips off the counter, and I’d have to smash the goddamn thing if it ever hurt her, so I release her wrists to get a better hold on her.
She’s given up the fight. Instead of pushing me away, she sinks her fingers into my hair. My scalp tingles and my eyes drift shut for a split second as the pleasure of her touch hums through me. As soon as the first shudder passes, I rip her panties and bare her pussy seconds before latching onto it.
“Oh god,” she cries, her back arching. One hand leaves my hair, and she reaches absently overhead like she’ll find something to grab onto.
The taste of her on my tongue sings through my veins like a symphony. My scalp still tingles where she touches it, working her gentle fingers through the thick locks while I feast on her pussy. She whimpers and cries, her body writhing helplessly as pleasure ripples through her.
My pretty girl doesn’t last long. When she cries out in abandon and locks her thighs around my head, it takes everything in me not to shove down my pants and drive my cock into her right here and now. Desire pumps through my veins like molten lava, but I’m focused on her. On the way her thighs tremble as they fall apart and her posture slumps as she sinks back against the mirror.
I want her vulnerability all for myself, so I stand and pull her off the sink. I keep my arm locked tightly around her waist, even once she’s on her feet and doesn’t need me anymore.
The idea of her not needing me rankles. It shouldn’t, but it does.
I don’t see that reality reflected when I look down at her, though.
In the aftermath of her orgasm, her feelings are more tender than usual. She looks up at me, and the softness in her eyes about undoes me.
I can’t resist touching her. I reach down and caress her face, graze her pretty pink lips with the blunt end of my thumb.
The tightness in my chest is unfamiliar. At least it was, before I met her.
I lean down and taste her one more time, letting myself linger against her mouth.
“I love you too, you know.”
She sucks in a breath like I just stabbed her through the heart.
I hate hurting her. I hate that I can’t seem to stop. I hate this fucking situation she had no idea she was walking into.
“All I want is you. No matter what happens, I hope you know that.”
I hear her swallow, and I know I’m fucking her up even more. I need to stop. I need to give her a chance to recover, at least for right now.
I need to leave.
So I caress her hair and give her one last forehead kiss, and then I step back.
Brynn looks back at me, completely lost, and I know she’s only lost because she followed me.
“I’m gonna figure this out,” I tell her as I back up to open the door. “I promise. Don’t give up on me.”
Chapter Forty-four
Brynn
I sit by myself on the bathroom floor for a while after Killian leaves.
I’ve taken the terrible shoes off. I feel like I’ve taken my sanity off, too, and I forget where I put it.
My heart feels ripped into pieces and dragged through mud, but then stitched back together all out of place. It’s Frankenstein’s monster, and it doesn’t beat right.
