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He leaned forward and kissed me, his fingers fisting in my hair. I sagged into him, my bare skin instantly damp and heated by his. No matter how amazing it felt in his embrace, he was still tense in his arms. His touch.
Whatever kept him awake and made him hit the bag still lingered.
He pulled back. “Going to shower, baby.”
He didn’t ask me to join him, and I saw the conflict on his face as he continued to battle whatever was bothering him. Releasing my hair, he stepped back, but I moved with him.
“Killian?” His brows lifted. “Don’t go.” I slid my hand down to the sparse hairs on his pelvis then lower to his workout shorts where his cock was already erect.
“Let me shower first.”
I shook my head. “No. I want you here. Right now.” Against his bag. Where I suspected a lot of his demons lived. I wanted him to think of me when he punched the bag instead of whatever hunted him.
His eyes flicked to his bag chained to a steel beam.
Neither of us said anything, and I waited to see if he’d let me in enough to do this.
“Stay here.” He strode into the kitchen, and I heard a drawer open and shut and then he walked back with what looked like rope dangling from his hand. My heart skipped a beat and belly thunked, but it was a good thunk. An excited thunk.
“Give me your wrists,” he said, stopping in front of me.
There was no hesitation as I held them out in front of me. He was deliberate and methodical as he tied my wrists together with the rope like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he’d done this before.
“You’ve done this before?”
“The ropes, yes,” he said without looking at me. Something was wrong. He was being cold and avoiding my eyes.
“Killian?”
“Raise your arms above your head,” he ordered.
“Killian?” I repeated as I did as he requested. He reached the chain and threaded the end of the rope through a link, and I felt the tautness on my wrists. “Are you going to look at me?”
His chest was against mine as he knotted the rope, so my arms were hitched above my head and my back was against the hard leather of the bag.
“Killian. Look at me.” I said, but he still didn’t. “See me.” Because whatever he saw now wasn’t me. It was too precise and unemotional. Something had shifted from the bag to him tying me up. “Killian,” I whispered. “Please.”
His arms lowered and his hands glided down my arms to my waist where his fingers spanned them. His eyes were closed, and his lips pressed firmly together.
“Does this remind you of someone else?” I asked.
His eyes snapped open. “There is no one else.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
He clenched his jaw. “Jesus, Savvy. You. It’s you. It’s this. You asking me to do this. You knowing what I need when I’m supposed to be the one giving you what you need.” He bowed his head, and I wished I could hold him. Touch him.
“What I need is you.” I waited until his head lifted and our eyes locked. “Just you and whatever comes with you. The hurt. The pain. The anger. The sweet and the caring. All of you.”
My sex tweaked because the look in his eyes was heated and possessive. He reached for me, and my breath hitched, and goose bumps popped before he even made contact.
And when he did make contact, it was his thumb tracing the plump surface of my lower lip then to my chin, neck, collarbone and to the crevice between my breasts. His eyes followed his caress until he stopped at my belly button. “You don’t know all of me.”
“I know,” I replied.
He nodded, then his finger continued its path to my sex, and I sucked in a lungful of air as he slipped into the wetness. “Never have I been with someone. Not like you.”
Lowering his head, his lips a breath away from mine, he inserted his finger up inside me at the same time as his mouth took mine.
Warmth invaded, and the chain clanked as I yanked on the rope. The hard leather of the bag swayed into my back and pushed me closer to him. He groaned and grabbed me around the waist, deepening the kiss.
Having the weight of the bag at my back and him at my front, both pressing into me, was cathartic. Unable to get away. Not wanting to, but being vulnerable to him… it was erotic and overwhelming and intense.
It was trusting him completely. A giving of myself, letting go and surrendering to him.
He broke away and yanked off his shorts then checked my wrists and rope before he hitched me up in his arms. He used one hand to position his cock and the other to hold my ass.
