Page 72 of Bound By Ink

“So, boyfriend, huh? How long have you been together?” I turn to see the same guy as before, feeling really weird that he’s at the urinal next to me. He’s taller than me and literally staring at my dick. It’s an unwritten rule that guys don’t use the urinal next to another guy; it’s just odd. I shake and tuck it away before walking over to the sink, and I glance back at him.

“It’s fairly new, not long really.”

He comes to stand beside me. “Word of advice…”

I turn to face him. “They call him a one-hit wonder, and it isn’t for his skills in the ring. Trust me, I know firsthand. I was the one fucking him not that long ago. He’s a great guy. But, boyfriend, don’t be fooled, sweetheart. Once he’s fucked you, you’ll be begging for scraps like the rest of us.”

“Is that so?” His voice, gravelly and dark, echoes around the stalls. Killian stands there, resting a shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His posture is casual: the glare in his eye is anything but.

“Killer, I didn’t mean anything by it. We had a great time. I just didn’t want him to think he’s special. I didn’t want him led on to think there would be more between you two.”

“Special? He is fucking special. You and I were a fuck, that’s all it ever was, and you knew that before you pursued me. But him, he’s worth ten of you. Don’t think because you couldn’t secure round two that he hasn’t already gone multiple rounds with me. He’s my forever. You’re the past. Don’t make it awkward or anything. It’s not. Itwasfun. But don’t mistake me, I will not let you talk to him like that, when you know fuck all about me.”

The guy holds his hands up. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t want any trouble.”

“Goodnight,” Killian says, but his gaze wanders to me as I stare at him. The guy walks away, but Killian’s eyes never stray from mine. He looks at me, waiting for me to say something. But what the fuck do you say to something like that? I blow out a breath and straighten, walking towards him. I stop just short of our chests touching.

“Take me home,” I say with a confidence I have no business having.

“Home?”

“Yours.”

He nods, takes my hand, and leads me through the club, not sparing a second to acknowledge anyone this time. He just pulls me along behind him. As we push through the door into the cold night air, my breath is taken from me as he pulls me to the side, slamming my back against the wall and crashing his body into me. His tongue forces its way into my mouth, passionate need floods through him, and he grinds his pelvis into me.

My hands reach up and claw at his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. My glasses dig into my face when we collide. One hand wrapped into the short strands of my hair at the nape of my neck, steering me where he wants me, and the other slides from my waist to my thigh as he lifts it and crushes his hips closer—stuttering a breath.

“I need you,” I whisper. “Now.” He drops my leg and snatches my hand, pulling me towards the taxi rank. I pull back. “Now, Killian.” I look around and see the alley between the shops, dragging him towards it.

“Scott, no, you’re too special for a dirty alley.”

“Killian, please. I just need you now.”

“Fuck.” He tightens his grip, pulls me forward, looking around before tugging me into the alley. It’s dark and secluded.

Big bins line the walls, and he stalks past them. I fumble one-handed with my belt, yanking and tearing at it as I rip it open, pulling at the buttons before popping my fly open. I tug them down my hips, and by the time we get to the end of the alley, completely out of view. My jeans are barely clinging to me. I pull my dick out of the front of my jeans and groan as the cold air hits it. I squeeze the base and close my eyes.

I’m slammed against the wall with a thud, and my eyes startle open. When I see Killian’s face, he drops to his knees in front of me, wrapping his hand around mine and claiming my dick with his mouth. I gasp in shock. I thought he was gonna fuck me, but…Oh fuck.

“Shit,” I gasp as he sucks my cock to the back of his throat. His hand slides over my hips and kneads my cheeks before he presses a thick finger against my ass. I groan and open my legs, needing more. He pushes againstmy hole, making me squirm. His hand grips my dick as he deep throats me. I gasp and writhe against him.

“Fuck, fuck,” I chant out as he sucks me into oblivion. My thighs tense, and he pushes his finger up to the first knuckle. Panting, my balls tighten, my toes curl, and I thrust my hips. He takes all of me. I hit the back of his throat. I start coming, and he pushes his finger straight in. I yell as I come hard, and he sucks me dry, his finger pumps in my ass the whole time. My head drops to my chin, and my back hits the wall. My body shudders as he pulls his finger out of me and slides my dick from his mouth.

He slowly stands while I pant and try to stop myself from blurting out that I love him. My eyes find his, and he slowly slides his finger into his mouth and licks and sucks at it, and I quiver at the image. He steps closer, his hands reach for my jeans, and he pulls them up as his lips find mine. The taste of myself on him has me distracted as he tucks me away and fastens my jeans.

He leans into my neck, sandwiching me against the wall and whispering, “I need to get you home. I need to be balls deep in you before I explode. You can either walk, or I will throw you over my shoulder, but we need to go. Right. Now.”

I give him a shaky nod. Dark lust spreads across his gaze, twisting my insides, and I try to take a step forward. My legs shake a little, but he grabs me, throws me over his shoulder and takes long, meaningful strides out of the alley straight to the taxi rank. Killian rips the door of the nearest cab open and unceremoniously chucks me into the back seat.

He slams the door and jogs around to the other side, jumping in and barking at the driver to be quick. His hand grips my thigh, but his resolve from earlier has long gone. His hold is tight and unyielding, his posture stiff as he sits on the edge of the seat, almost wishing the car to move faster. I rest my hand on his, and he flinches, staring back at me. Tension fills his features, and I reach up, sliding my hand over his cheek.

“I’m right here. I’m going nowhere. We’ll be home soon.”

He exhales and nods, and we travel the rest of the way in silence. When we pull up, he drags me from the car, fumbling with his keys.

When we get into his bedroom, I kick off my shoes and start to slide my jeans off. After straightening my glasses, I stand naked in front of him, and he freezes. Staring at me, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he tries to calm his breathing. He starts to undress, and I stand there, mesmerised, as fabric pools and folds, fluttering to the floor. When he’s fully naked, he stares at me.

“Fuck, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” My skin heats, the flush rising from my chest to my cheeks. He steps forward and slides his fingers over my tattoo, his name permanently etched across my hip, marking me as his. He slides his hand over his ribs, and I glance down.