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Her finger jabs into my chest again, the same place as before. I already have a fucking bruise there from the first time. “You do not get to threaten me,” she hisses, still jabbing me.
I grip her wrist, pulling her around until the backs of her legs hit the couch, and she goes down. I follow, pinning her beneath me. “I warned you,” I whisper in her ear as she struggles to get away. “I told you not to push it, Cara. Now you’ll have to face the consequences.”
I’d once told her I would enjoy breaking her. And I’d meant it.
21
CARA
I’m submerged in the cage of his arms, Killian snarling in my face as he leans over me threateningly. I can barely move, thrashing beneath him as I try to escape. My heart slams against my chest as my palms smack against his, trying to shove him off with just the force of my hatred. He smells of blood and sweat, the scent of him nearly overpowering me.
“You don’t fucking own me,” I snap. “Get the fuck off me.”
“Not until you fucking listen.” I can feel the pure fury in his words. He’s pissed. No, he’s beyond pissed. And I’d pushed him there. “If we’re going to get through this, then you need to learn to obey.”
“Fuck you,” I yell, raking my nails down his arms, trying to draw blood, but that only seems to amuse him. “You won’t do shit. You can threaten me all you want, but we both know that if I say no, you’ll—”
He goes still above me. “Would you like to test that theory?” His lips brush my neck, causing a small charge to run down my spine. “I can make you screamwithoutbreaking that stupid promise.”
I shift beneath him, confused and uncertain. My chest heaves, a thousand and one insults just sitting on the tip of my tongue. But I hold them back, knowing it would only encourage him. He wants me to test him, to push him to the edge so I can take the blame for whatever that push led him to do. His muscles tense around me, sending a flare of heat straight through me. I inhale sharply, pressing into the couch to try and get as far away from him as I can.
“Tell me no, Cara,” he dares.
It’s at the edge of my lips, nearly falling between us just to end this torture. But I don’t make a sound. Instead, my hand fists into the material of his shirt, yanking him towards me. His kiss almost burns through me, his body pressed against mine, driving me into the couch as I gasp. His tongue hungrily takes me captive, his hand coming to my jaw as he pins me in place.
I know I should shove him away. Slap him. Do something that would convey my disinterest. But I don’t. I can’t. I drag his shirt lower, yanking on it so hard it nearly rips. Killian growls against my lips, his thigh pressing between mine. I moan hungrily as he kisses me harder, his lips bruising mine. My hands make it to the edge of his shirt, slipping beneath the material to swipe across the firm muscles of his abdomen. My fingers press down firmly as I explore every curve, every hard edge, every rough ridge of his body.
His hand slips across my skin, pinning me in place by the throat as he breaks the kiss, running a trail of fire down my neck. I lean back, trying to shift his grip from my throat without breaking contact, but he refuses to release me.
And I don’t stop him.
I arch into him, wave after wave of anticipation racing down my spine as heat floods between my thighs. My breast presses against his chest, and he gives in. Turning his attention from my neck, he releases me, running a hand down my side before coming back up to cup my breast over the fabric of my dress. I can still feel the heat of his palm through the material. His other hand tangles in my hair, tightening to the point of pain that feels so fucking good I almost cry out.
He slows, pulling away slightly, and I whimper, reaching for him. He catches my hand in his, pinning it between us. “One last chance,” he warns. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.” There’s a challenge in his eyes and something else.
Desire. Need.
My lips part, ready to tell him no just to spite him, but my mouth betrays me. Nothing comes out but another whimper of want, and his lips come crashing back to mine. I can feel how hard he is as he grinds his hips between my legs, the rough material of his jeans grazing the inner parts of my thighs in a way that sets my blood on fire.
His hand grips my thigh, drawing my leg around his waist. The skirt of my dress flips up, baring me to the exploration of his fingers. They shift along the inside, brushing against the sensitive skin there, and I moan. His hand moves further beneath my skirt until they reach the lacy material of my panties. Fingers twisting around the side of them, he tightens his hand into a fist. There’s a sharp yank and the sound of fabric tearing before I realize he’s literally ripped my panties right off my body.
“To add to my collection,” he murmurs before claiming my mouth again.
I gasp as his finger slips along the bared skin at my core, gathering the heat and wetness there. His kisses have my whole body bowing to the carnal desire inside despite being all the things I hate. My own personal hell wrapped in sin and lust.
He groans as he feels how much I want him, thumb circling my clit with a perfect rhythm that had my hips rocking against him. I’m panting in his arms, the heat of his body radiating through me. Raking my hands through his dark hair, I kiss him again, dragging him closer. Wanting to devour him whole. I draw his bottom lip into my mouth, and his breath hitches.
Pulling back, we both take a breath. His eyes swim with dark promises, their meaning coiling through me. He watches me with a gaze so heated that every inch of me feels like it's been lit on fire, my body turning to ash beneath his fingers still at my core, circling away. His powerful shoulders tense as my nails drag down his arms and chest until they land on the button of his jeans. I fumble a bit, distracted by the feel of his lips against my neck again.
This is insane. This shouldn’t be happening. Killian is everything I can’t stand. He’s reckless, irresponsible, and takes everything as a joke. He’s hot-headed and dangerous on every level. I should be pushing him away. I should slap him for even laying a finger on me. But I can’t deny how good it feels to have his body pressed against mine, to have his hands on my skin.
The button of his jeans snaps open, and I hesitate. His mouth is making my brain too fuzzy to concentrate and think this through. And when his thumb hits just the right spot, I lose all sense of logic. My hands push his jeans and boxers down, the full length of him springing free.
And all I can do is stare, my heart leaping in my chest.
My hand wraps around the length, unable to fully grip it. He buries his face into the crook of my shoulder at my touch, a primal sound reverberating through his chest. It rolls through me, sending shivers down my spine as I slowly stroke him. His fingers still between my legs, pressing against my most sensitive spot, and I bite my lip to keep myself from crying out.
He’d said he could make me scream without breaking his promise, and I am not about to let him win.
