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Her soft moans tell me she’s turned on and I push her down to the white sheepskin rug and pound into her hard, her head bashing against the floor as I nail her to it. Then, holding my hand to her throat, I growl, “This is the monster you married, Purity. I am crazy for you.”
Her breath quickens as she groans, “I can’t fight you, Killian. I can’t walk away.”
It’s what I needed to hear and calms the rage inside and as the relief settles over me, she drags my lips to meet hers and whispers, “I will help you.”
I swear I cum so hard I see the white light of heaven as my world rights itself. She screams as her own orgasm joins with mine and her body throbs against me. I watch every magical second of her release, knowing that I caused it. Basking in the pleasure I brought to her, knowing she is going nowhere.
As she comes back to me, she stares at me with desire and the look of adoration I crave and she whispers huskily, “It would have been better if I heard it from you, but shit happens, I suppose.”
It destroys all the tension between us and as she giggles in my arms, I almost tell her I love her. I stop because what the hell is happening to me? I don’t love. I don’t even know what it is, so I stroke her beautiful face and whisper, “You are everything to me, Bella. I will make you the happiest woman alive.”
I wrap her in my arms and cling on tight, so scared that I nearly lost her. The trouble is, my life is unpredictable and I’m fully aware I must seize these moments while I can because nothing is for granted in this world I live in and the fear of losing her—what we have—only makes the beast inside me roar even fucking louder.
CHAPTER45
PURITY
Iam screwed in more ways than one. I can’t walk away.
I should.
Thinking of how Killian makes his money goes against everything I have ever been taught.
Good and evil.
Right versus wrong.
It’s not even because I have nowhere else to go. I ran once, I could do it again. No, the reason I’m here is that when Killian stared at me through those mysterious eyes, I saw the yearning inside them.
He needs me.
I could see it as plainly as my need for him. We shouldn’t work. But something is telling me we need each other to survive.
Something is playing on my mind more than anything else I learned, and I whisper, “Tell me about my father.”
It’s almost as if I’m a disinterested onlooker, and not the flesh and blood of a tyrant.
“What do you want to know?”
He kisses my head and exhales an audible sigh of relief, and it melts my heart. For a man who doesn’t show emotion, I can tell he is disguising the fact he has so much of it locked behind a wall of cold steel.
“You say he sells drugs. What are they?”
“Opium.”
“What’s that?”
“It comes from the poppy flower and is an addictive drug that is sold to users.”
“A flower?” I think of the beautiful fields of poppies that grow all around our home. The same fields I ran in and played as a child. The fields my family helped cultivate, and it makes me sick that, unknown to me, I was helping in the manufacture of drugs.
“But he told us they were medicinal.”
“They can be.” Killian strokes my back.
“It can be used legally in the production of drugs.”
“So maybe he didn’t realize it was being used in the wrong way.” I am so hopeful of that because it’s as if my entire life has been built on a lie. Then Killian dashes any hope of that when he shrugs.
