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He places me on my feet and begins with my wet shirt, removing it from me as I lift my arms. As soon as he discards it, his mouth moves forward and he pays special attention to my breasts, licking and sucking each one before he drops to his knees in front of me, pulling down my sleep shorts so they puddle at my feet. Keir moves his mouth in that direction, and I spread my legs willingly for him, because I know what that mouth can do, and the things it does for me are well worth their weight in gold.
His mouth is fucking gold.
He lifts one leg, places it over his shoulder, one hand gripping my ass, keeping me where he wants me as his mouth does everything in its power to make me come. His tongue glides down and slips into me before it moves back up, and soon, I’m riding his face, my hands buried in his hair, my hips moving up and down on his mouth, because once you hit that perfect rhythm, there is no stopping you—and he takes it by not quickening his pace, which always ruins it.
And soon, oh so very soon, my body shakes.
I bite my lip to stop the scream that wants to escape as I come. He doesn’t waste any time, though, as he stands, drops his jeans, and lifts me until I have to wrap my weak legs around his waist as he guides me down on top of him. As soon as he’s filled me, I lean forward and bite his shoulder, hard, and when I pull back, his hand wraps around my neck, the other holds my ass as my back hits the wall while he pushes in and out of me. He applies pressure to my throat, until I feel I’m on the verge of passing out then he releases the pressure for a moment and does it again, bringing me close each time as he fucks me.
He holds all the power in the bedroom.
And I can’t say I want to complain.
I like a man who takes charge. Dillan was doggy style all the way, and if I wanted something more, for example me on top, his taking command, I had to initiate it. With Keir, I don’t have to worry about that. I love that when I look at him while he fucks me, I know he wants me, and only me. It’s not just in the way he watches me—I’ve seen him get his cock sucked before and he never paid that woman any attention whatsoever—because when he wants me, when he needs me, his hands are soft and gentle before they move to demanding. His eyes darken just a little, and I know, I just know, it’s me he wants.
When he’s close, his hand drops from my throat and he holds our bodies together, and just like in the fucking movies, we come together.
Who knew that could happen? That a man could fixate on your body so much that he knows, just knows what to do with it?
“I’m never letting you go,” he says quietly into my hair. When I don’t respond, he pulls back and pushes my hair out of my face as my feet hit the floor. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you plan to fuck other women as well?” This is probably not the right time to ask, but he can’t drop the L bomb and just get away with it. I’m not Paige. I shiver at the thought of her and what they did. “I mean, you fucked the woman who tried to kill me.”
He pulls away from me and exits the shower.
I turn the water off and step out, reaching for a towel.
Keir already has one wrapped around his waist when he replies, “I don’t have time for this.”
“I guess you don’t have time for me, then.”
He shakes his head, stalks his way back to me, palms the back of my head, and leans in to slam his mouth to mine, kissing me hard. I almost go to push him away, but like I said, he has a way of making my body sing like no one else ever could.
“You two love birds in there done? We’re waiting.”
Keir disconnects our lips but rests his forehead against mine. “I’ll be back. And when I’m calmer, we will finish this.”
“Sure,” I say with a sarcastic smile.
He stops in the doorway, turns, then blinks a few times. “You are to stay here, do you understand?”
Uh, yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I’ve made a vow to not let any man control me that way unless he’s fucking me. And right now, he’s not fucking me.
“Sailor.” He barks my name, but I still don’t answer. “Phillip,” he calls out while staring at me, being a demanding asshole. The door opens and Philip appears, eyes cast down at the floor. “Sailor is not to leave this house. Do you understand me?” Phillip looks up, his shocked eyes finding mine, but he answers anyway, looking back down. “Yes, sir.” Then he walks out, and I smirk at Keir, who shakes his head as he stomps like a spoiled child out of the room.
