“You love me.”
I snap my mouth shut.
The asshole laughs, a rich sound my body reacts to. The hair on my arms rises, my body shudders, and my nipples tighten. One sure finger draws up my sternum, thumb ghosting over my chest. My back arches, begging for more.
“That’s why you’re so angry.” His teeth rake over my throat. “Not because of me. Not because I toldLexabout the leak. You’re mad because finally—after all these godforsaken months—you see what I’ve always seen. That you fuckingloveme.”
“I don’t?—”
“No more lies,” he growls. Pulling back, he slides his hands under my skirt, gripping my thighs. “You’re going to tell me exactly what you want, Princess. Exact words. No more denials—no more fucking hiding.”
His black eyes blaze down at me. “What do you want?”
I could deny him—push him away. Ignore how my heart seizes with love and how I fall apart as his fingers press into my flesh. How the beat of his heart seems to echo the one in my chest—we’re two halves of one twisted whole.
I remember begging him to replace Michael’s hands with his own. I remember his words in the night when I awoke from nightmares. I remember his confidence and care.
“Did you really kill Ferguson for me?”
“Yes, love,” he breathes, deflating. “He hurt you. No matter what he did for me, no matter how I felt, he hurt the one thing in this world I would kill to protect. I had no choice.”
Rubbing his nose to mine, he says, “If Michael were alive, I would’ve killed him too. But it was so much better watching you have your vengeance.”
The last of my restraints falls, and my blackened heart comes alive.
With sure hands, I grab his hair, yanking him closer. He moans, a delicious sound I’ve missed. Licking his bottom lip, I hold his gaze and say, “On your knees, Pup.”
“Fuck,” he groans. Falling forward, he wraps his arms around my waist, crushing his lips to mine. He’s not tentative—he demands I open my mouth, plunging his tongue through my lips. He takes and tastes everything he can touch, nibbling on my bottom lip.
Roughly, he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you.”
25
MAEVE
“But first,” he drawls, sliding my knife from my hip. He holds it between us, blade against the sheer fabric of my shirt. “I want to see all of you.”
The edge cuts cleanly, leaving a gaping hole in my pale skin underneath. Confidently, Killian slides his hand over my stomach, over the ridged scars, before pinching one nipple. Gasping, my back arches, and he grins.
“Fucking perfect.”
Leaning close, he inhales as I exhale. He takes my breath, infuses him, until we’re connected on a deeper level. “Tell me again.”
I look up at him. “What?”
“Tell me he hasn’t touched you.” His fingers draw over my arms, slipping the shirt away. He slides my knife between the bridge of my bra, snapping it with a quick flick.
My breasts fall, heavy and aching, as his tongue tastes one nipple before moving to the next. My legs shift, damp and needy.
“He never touched me.”
He plays with a nipple, thumb brushing over the sensitive bud. Sparks dance across my skin, a tiny prickle of pleasure and pain.
“You’ve been with him for months, Princess.” Black eyes stare at me, daring me to lie. “Are you telling me, all this time, I’m the last to have you?”
Swallowing a breath, I nod wordlessly.
