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“Fuck.” His voice breaks through my muddled thoughts. “If you keep doing that….” He trails off, biting down on my shoulder as I stroke him again.
I like this new feeling of power over him. His muscles ripple as I keep going, in awe of the way I can make his body react to my touch. My other hand skims down his arms, feeling his muscles move beneath my fingertips. His hips jerk each time my palm skims along his hardness. I could feel his heart hammering against his chest as I squeeze around the tip, feeling a bead of wetness there.
“Cara,” he warns again. But I’m not stopping. He catches my wrist suddenly, pinning my hand above my head. I think he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls away, black hair curling over his forehead.
There’s a triumphant look in his eyes, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. I grind my hips against him, wanting to know what it would feel like to have all of him, to have him take me like he so clearly wants to.
In a flash, he’s off of me. I stare at him, dumbfounded, as he pulls his jeans back up, buttoning them. Killian barely spares me a glance as he heads towards the kitchen, grabbing a Brita from the fridge and a glass. I slowly sit up, fixing my skirt around my thighs as he downs the water in one go.
What the hell just happened.
He—
“You fucking asshole.” I jump from the couch, straightening my dress and running a hand through my hair. It’s tangled, catching at my fingers. “You little mother—”
“You can call me every name in the book, Cara. But that still doesn’t change the fact that you never said no.”
My mouth opens and snaps shut, my brain unable to think of any comeback to that. He’s right. I didn’t say no. I let myself fall for another one of his little games. Finally, the only thing I can think of springs to my lips. “You didn’t make me scream,” I challenge, crossing my arms.
“I didn’t have to. I saw the look in your eyes. And that’s more than enough to tell me I won.” He shrugs as if this didn’t matter to him at all.
Embarrassment flashes through me, my cheeks burning. “So that’s it? You did that just to win a stupid, pointless game you made up in your head?”
He considers my words for a moment, thinking. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“You—” Nothing else comes out. I can hardly speak, I’m so angry. My body shakes, hands curling at my sides. There’s no use in arguing with him. Killian will do whatever he wants to whoever he wants, and no one can stop him.
But I will. Starting now.
I made him promise that he wouldn’t have me before the wedding, and today feels like he broke that promise. I know he didn’t, but he got under my skin. Made me feel things for him I didn’t want to. I can still feel the ghost of his touch between my thighs, the memory of his lips against my neck. My lips. Hate rips through me, taking over any embarrassment I’d felt before.
I march towards the door, whipping it open. Before stepping out into the hall, I whip back around. “You won’t ever touch me again,” I snarl. “Not now. And definitely not after the wedding. You will never have me.”
Surprisingly, Killian looks rattled by my words. Shock, then confusion, darkens his gaze, but he says nothing. He does nothing. I slam the door shut behind me, the force of it rattling the walls. I can barely think as my finger jabs at the elevator call button, willing it to move faster. I need to get out of here and as far away from that asshole as possible. I don’t want him near me ever again, but I know it’s only a matter of time before I’m forced to face him again. Next time, he won’t get under my skin. Next time, I’ll be ready for him.
The elevator doors open, and I hurry inside, trying to escape. My eyes lock on his door before the elevator slides shut. It never opens. I’m fuming the entire ride down to the lobby. Killian’s men eye me with interest as I stalk through the front doors, but I ignore them all. Shaking, I try to remember where I’ve parked my car, finding it halfway down the street.
Coming here had been a mistake. Sienna had told me Blair had kept a big part of their relationship from me, but now I can’t help but think that the ex might not have been entirely wrong. Killian doesn’t care about me. He definitely doesn’t give a shit about my feelings. I’m just a patsy in his twisted game, something to entertain him whenever he so pleases. Something to discard when he’s done.
I’m too furious to head home. My father wasn’t home but just the thought of being trapped in those walls—a constant reminder of what my future will hold—tore at me. Shoving my keys into the ignition, I started the car, tearing away from the curb. There’s only one other place I can go. Somewhere I know will help calm me down.
Turning, I head towards Sadie’s house. Even if I can’t tell her everything, I need my best friend to help me sort through the tidal wave of emotions I’m struggling with right now. Sadie will know just what to say. I blast the stereo, trying to drown out my thoughts.
Killian thinks he’s won. But this is only the beginning.
22
CARA
Sadie lives in a cute little brownstone out in Brooklyn. Her parents had surprised her with it during our freshman year of college. I park along the street, filling the meter with shaking fingers before heading up the steps to her front door. I’d texted her on my way over, telling her I really needed to just chill for a bit. She’d invited me over right away.
I bound up the steps two at a time, cursing the wedges I’d paired with my dress. I’m not sure why I thought dressing up like this would have been a good idea. It was just Killian. It wasn’t as if I wanted to see that gleam in his eye as his gaze raked over me. It’s not like I was trying to impress him. I’d mostly done it for myself, trying to gather the confidence I knew I’d need to face him.
Sadie opens the door before I can even knock. Taking one look at my face, she ushers me inside before closing the door softly behind me. “What happened?”
We head into her living room. I love her place, and I always told myself I’d get one like it someday. The walls were bared brick, a deep, muddy color. A cream-colored couch sat opposite of the flatscreen that hung from the wall, with two wicker chairs on either side. The round coffee table matched the chairs, sitting atop a fluffy beige rug over the hardwood floor. It had three bedrooms on the second floor and a garden patio out back. Plants grew in every corner, with more hanging from the ceiling.
“I went to see Killian,” I huff, going straight for the couch. I flop down on my back before jolting upright.
