Page 37 of Reckless Desires

I comply, my body moving instinctively. His hands slide higher, his fingers brushing against my lower lips, and his touch lingers there for a moment before retreating again. Another moan is caught in my throat. I can’t take my eyes off him, his lean muscles flexing, his eyes scanning my body but avoiding my gaze.

“Have you heard of reiki before?” he asks.

“I think so?” I breathe softly.

His hands hover just above my pelvis without touching. I feel heat radiating from his palms, a deep, penetrating warmth that seems to sink into my bones. The pain is fading now, replaced by a growing ache between my legs.

Killian’s hands move lower, focusing on my pelvis right above my slit. I moan softly, unable to stop the sound from escaping my lips. My hips lift off the bed, seeking more contact.

Holding the towel against my breasts. “Killian,” I breathe, his name a prayer on my lips.

He doesn’t stop. His eyes focus on the area his hands are massaging. My body trembles with need, the pain completely forgotten now. I cover my eyes with my forearm. I don’t want it to stop. My moans grow louder, more desperate. His hands don’t stop; he’s relentless as he keeps steady pressure. My body tenses, my toes curling as the pressure builds. I’m so close, hovering on the edge of release.

I can feel his long, thick erection pressing against my thigh through his jeans. He’s trying to hide it as though trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism, but his body betrays him. The knowledge that he is aroused too sends another wave of desire through me. He begins applying more pressure as his hands make their way back to my thighs, focusing each hand on my inner thigh. His hands brushing around my aching pussy is driving me wild. And when his thumbs made their way back to my pelvis, they don’t stop at my slit. Killian begins massaging on and around my aching lips but avoids entering the slit, making my hips buck. My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing with pleasure.

Killian continues massaging until the end of my orgasm. When it’s over, I collapse against the bed, boneless and breathless. The pain isn’t entirely gone but now overshadows the aftermath of my climax.

Neither of us says a word. He rolls me onto my side, rubbing my lower back until my eyes flutter and I fall asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Killian

Climbing into bed with her, our bodies touch as I lie on my side and rub my hand in small circles on her lower back. It doesn’t seem like it’s helping, but I keep at it until she falls asleep. It took everything in me not to fuck her as she moaned my name. Did she realize she did it? I can’t get the sound out of my head, and I can still feel her pussy in my hands.

I need something to relieve the tension that's going to be building all night. She was beautiful in a way that made my chest tighten but I know better than to succumb to the temptation of such beauty. I had learned the hard way that passion could be as intoxicating as it was perilous.

I head straight for the shower, turning it cold. Water cascades down against the black tiles as a strip out of my clothing. My cock is aching as I fist it.

I brush my thumb over the head, spreading around the drop of precum. Groaning, I step into the shower, turning my back to the spray. I raise one hand on the wall, leaning forward, pumping my fist up and down my length.

All I can think about is the way she tasted when she was tied up in the barn. The way that smart mouth would open and she'd start mouthing off. The way I could smack her ass until she was sure that she was done running that pretty little mouth. She could rebel. She could have her ass turned bright red. I would take all of it in stride. I would tame her as long as she remembered who was in control at the end of the day.

But it all had to stay in my head. Lily would ruin me, and I won’t give another woman the opportunity to do that.

“We won’t be able to fly with these, but we can sail,” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the IDs I had crafted for myself and my childhood sweetheart to start a new life in America. “It will be a longer journey, but think of it as another adventure.”

Jenni’s laughter rang out, bright and melodic, as her eyes danced over the name printed on my ID. “Weste?” she giggled, the corners of her mouth curling up in a teasing smile.

“It’s my father’s name,” I replied, my tone steady, though a flicker of vulnerability crossed my mind.

“Ashamed to be a Boswell?” She quirked an eyebrow playfully, challenging me.

“Not ashamed,” I confessed, my heart tightening. “Just a way to feel connected to him.” I wasn’t entirely sure if I believed what I had just said. Among the seven of us siblings, I was the only one who had never met my father.

“I’ll meet you at the dock in the morning,” Jenni murmured, her soft lips brushing against mine with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine.

“Sure you won’t change your mind?” I asked, a hint of desperation creeping into my voice. “You love it here.”

“I love being wherever you are,” she replied, her gaze steady, yet tinged with an uncertainty that I chose to ignore.

But when morning arrived, Jenni never showed. I searched the docks, her home, her place of work, my heart racing, but she was nowhere to be found. Just like that, she vanished, leaving me with nothing but a hollow ache and a thousand unanswered questions.

The memory of Jenni floods my mind, vivid and bittersweet—her laughter, her radiant smile, the way she looked at me as if I were the sun in her sky. It was a cruel twist of fate that the very person who had held my heart so tightly also had the power to shatter it completely. She was supposed to be by my side in America, to build a future together filled with dreams and laughter, yet she never arrived. Just like that, she slipped away, leaving me alone with a heart weighed down by regret and confusion.

Then there was that fateful business trip five years ago, when I found myself in the UK. There she was again, standing in front of me, as if time hadn’t touched her at all. She offered a half-hearted excuse for her absence at the dock, but the moment our lips met, I was lost in the familiar warmth of her embrace. One kiss reignited a fire within me—a longing I thought I had buried deep beneath layers of self-protection. But just like before, after a night filled with whispered promises and plans to return to Ireland together, she vanished again, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. I had sworn never to let myself fall for someone like that again.

With a shudder, I push the memories aside, resolute in my self-imposed isolation. Since then, I have only allowed women into my bed, never my heart. The moment one becomes too clingy or affectionate, I cut her loose without a second thought.