My core clenches with need as I place my half empty glass on the desk, then wiggle my silk thong down over my thighs. It hits the floor with a soft swish. I sidestep out of it and raise my gaze to meet Killian’s. A cocktail of desire, anticipation, and nerves pool in my stomach. I saw how big he was that day in the shower. If he decides to punish my behaviour by giving it to me hard, I’m not sure I’ll survive it. Then again, if he doesn’t—I’m not sure I’ll survive that either.
He drops to the floor, snatches up my lingerie, brings it to his face and inhales. ‘It’s no wonder you have a crazed fucking stalker, woman. You’d drive any man demented with lust.’
I part my thighs slightly in invitation.
‘Oh, no, sweetheart.’ He chuckles—actually chuckles. ‘I said I’d make you come, but I’m not going to make this easy for you. Plus, the longer I keep you in here, the less time anyone out there will have to ogle you.’
‘Bastard.’ I spit, but there’s something really fucking hot about him wanting to drag this out. About him wanting to keep me away from his competition—not that there is any. How could any man compete with this hot, brooding bastard?
His finger darts beneath my dress and he swipes at the arousal between my legs before pulling it away again. He brings his finger to his mouth and sucks. I inhale sharply. I could be in for a long night. His dark haunted eyes exude the heat and carnality of an untamed beast.
I need him to unleash himself on me.
I need to feel him pummel into me so hard it’ll feel like he’s breaking me.
The truth is, he actually might. The man might be a walking red flag, but I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone.
‘Killian, please.’ I’m not above begging. ‘Bend me over that desk and fuck me until I can’t see straight.’
A wolfish smile rips across his face. ‘I said I’d make you come. I never promised you my cock. That’s for good girls.’
Disappointment powers through me.
His fingers reach between my legs again. I’m dripping. A whimper slips through my lips as his thumb glides over my clit.
He fights dirty.
But so do I.
The next chance I get to go out with any man, I’m going to take it and drag him along to watch.
‘So wet,’ he purrs into my ear as his fingers continue working me.
I suppose a release is a release. For now. But he will fuck me if it’s the last thing he ever does. I’m going to spend every minute of every day that we’re together teasing him, tormenting him and making sure it’s the only thing he can think about, until he eventually snaps.
Because he will do.
He retracts his hand again and I hiss.
‘Take your dress off,’ he commands.
Thankfully, I’ve got an alpha kink and not a praise one. I grab the hem of my dress, tug it up over my shoulders, and toss it to the floor. I’m naked bar my stilettoes. It’s his turn to hiss. His fingers glide over my nipples. There’s something so fucking carnal about being naked for him. About surrendering to whatever pleasure he deems suitable to deliver—whichever form it comes in.
‘If you were mine, nobody but me would see these spectacular tits.’ His mouth dips down to catch my nipple, and he sucks hard enough to make me cry out. His laughter vibrates against my breast.
‘If I were yours, I’d be riding your gigantic cock on that leather chair right now.’ I shrug, feigning nonchalance but fooling neither of us.
He stands straight, challenge blazes in his eye. ‘Such a pity we can never be.’
He reaches between my legs again, this time he slides two, no, three fingers deep inside my core and pumps as his thumb circles my clit.
Sensory overload.
It’s official—the man can multitask.
‘Imagine how good my cock would feel, sweetheart. Imagine all the deep, delicious spots I could hit in here.’ His fingers still, and I cry out in frustration.
I’m drooling, actually drooling. ‘Please, Killian.’
‘Please, what?’ A wicked glint gleams in his eyes.
‘Give it to me.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Bastard.’ My need for him is actually painful.
His low laughter fills my ear. ‘I love it when you curse me. It tells me that I’ve crawled as far under your skin as you’ve crawled under mine.’
My legs are trembling like a newborn fawn, my orgasm shimmering on the horizon, just out of reach. ‘Make me come. I need to come.’
‘Only when you promise not to threaten me with dating other men while I’m trying to protect you.’
‘Fine.’ I’d promise him any damn thing he wanted right now; once he gives me what I need.
‘Say it,’ he demands.
‘I promise I won’t threaten to date other men while you’re trying to protect me.’ I’m so close. I need him to finish the job.
‘Good girl.’ His fingers resume their decadent movements. Lust blinds me. He watches intensely, for once it’s with approval. When a moan bursts from my mouth, he places his lips on mine and swallows my screams. My tongue thrashes against his, greedy and grateful all at the same time. He sucks and licks and explores the inside of my mouth as I shudder and shake through the most devastating orgasm of my life.
The truly devastating thing about it is the knowledge that I need so much more from the man who has nothing to give.
When my legs finally subside their shaking, he breaks our kiss. I slump forward onto his chest, inhaling his cologne, his masculinity. The rapid hammering of his heart echoes through my ear.
‘Can I…?’ I reach for his buckle.
‘No,’ he disentangles himself from me. ‘That wasn’t the deal. We should get back to your friends. The quicker you see them, the quicker we can go home.’
He scoops my dress up from the floor and wiggles it over my head.
I won. I got what I wanted—sort of anyway. So why does it feel like I lost?
Maybe, just maybe, every time he touches me, I lose a bit more of myself to him. And so far, he’s given me nothing of himself.
I genuinely wonder if he’s capable?
‘Where’s my underwear?’
‘In my pocket.’ His lips twitch slightly. ‘And that’s where it’s staying. I need a souvenir, seeing as this will categorically never happen again.’
He strides across the office, unlocks the door and opens it cautiously. The sound of the heavy base pumps from the floors below. He sticks his head out and says something to Thomson and Walsh. I smooth my dress back into position and follow Killian back out into the hallway and down the stairs back to the bar area. Killian says something inaudible to Walsh, and Thomson fires me a knowing wink. I shake my head in a poor attempt at denial. Thomson leans close enough to speak into my ear. ‘He likes you.’
‘He doesn’t, trust me.’
‘You get under his skin.’
‘I’d like to get under him.’ I grin at Thomson and he sniggers.
Killian’s head whips round. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Nothing.’ I flash him an innocent smile as he falls into line beside me.
‘You’re the future Mrs Beckett,’ Thomson whispers.
My stomach somersaults. Why, I have no idea. I’m not even sure I believe in marriage. I brush off Thomson’s remark with a subtle head shake.
Walsh takes the front as we cross the crowded bar to get back to Kenzi and Sophia. They’re chatting animatedly over the music, but both turn expectantly when we approach.
‘There you are! I was about to send out a search party!’ Sophia calls, her eager eyes jumping between Killian and me.
‘Where’s your glass?’ Kenzi lifts the almost empty bottle of champagne from the bucket.
‘I must have put it down somewhere. I’ll get another one and get us another bottle.’
‘No need. Some guy sent one over to our table.’ Kenzie waves behind her and my gaze lands on a silver bucket. Resting on a bed of ice beside an unopened bottle of Dom Pérignon is a black calla lily and a tiny white card with my name scrawled on it.
Killian spots it the same second I do; his entire body tenses.
Before we have time to think about what to do next, an ear-splitting siren pierces the club.
