by West, Harper
If he wanted something, he could come and take it.
"You look so good like this," he said, sliding a hand up my back and then back down so he could grab my ass again. "Bent over, ass up, so eager for me. Do you wish those fingers were my cock?"
I did. Of course I did. But I just moaned for him instead, determined to stick to my guns about not begging.
He laughed, clearly not bothered by that, and he moved his hand off of me.
When I looked up in the mirror again, it was to see him sinking down to his knees behind me, and then I couldn't see him at all. I went to turn my head, and he slapped my ass once more, making me turn back around.
Killian pulled my fingers from my hole and grabbed my cheeks, spreading my ass and pussy open so everything was on display for him.
My face burned at the thought that he could see everything. How wet I was, how pink and puffy my folds were, just eager to be filled again.
I expected him to tease me about it, but he didn't, instead leaning forward and licking me from clit to crack in one smooth motion.
My knees nearly buckled and gave out at that, and I couldn't muffle the moan of pure want that tumbled out of my mouth.
"Killian," I groaned. "Jesus."
He just chuckled and did it again.
It was clear he was determined to have himself a feast between my legs, and I was more than alright with that, bracing myself on the counter with both hands and hanging my head down while I tried to remember how to breathe.
Of course, Killian was just as talented with his mouth and fingers as he was with his cock or a toy, and he started slowly, licking and lapping a few times before his tongue speared into my hole, licking me open.
Waves of sensation hit me on right after the other. His tongue was hot and wet, and the slightly rough texture was amazing on my sensitive flesh.
He clearly knew what he was doing, and it was all I could do to hold myself up on the counter while he swirled his tongue and used his fingers to tease me while he ate me out.
I cursed and moaned for him, and it was only a matter of time before his attentions had me climbing toward my first orgasm of the night.
I gasped out his name, fingers curling into fists while my nails bit into the skin of my palms. It was hot and amazing, rushing down on me with more intensity than I'd been expecting, and when I finally came for him, my legs shook and I bucked back against his face, grinding down on him because it felt so fucking good.
Killian surfaced for air, and when he stood up, I could see his lips were shiny with my juices. He made a show of licking them and then leaning over me so he could bend down and whisper in my ear.
"You taste delicious."
I shivered under him and let out a soft whine. Before Killian, one good orgasm would have been more than enough to satisfy me, but he'd made me greedy.
He laughed, like he could sense the direction of my thoughts, and with the way I was pressing back against him, seeking out that bulge in his pants to work my hips against, he probably could.
"Greedy," he teased, using my own words against me. "I knew you were secretly insatiable. Do you want more? Do you want me to fuck you right here?"
I didn't respond, just focused on breathing and working my hips back, and he laughed again, but it was harsher the second time.
Before I knew it, he had a handful of my hair and was using it to jerk my head up, the slight pain and suddenness of it making me cry out.
"I asked you a question," he murmured, voice low in my ear.
I couldn't help but glance up at my reflection, seeing in the mirror how flushed and needy I looked. My eyes were wild and dark with lust, and my lips were parted, clearly ready to tell him what he wanted to hear.
"Fuck me," I gasped out. It wasn't begging, it was a command more or less, and Killian's fingers tightened in my hair, keeping my head up.
"Very well," he replied. "But I want you to watch. Look at yourself in the mirror and see how well you take it. See how desperate and needy you get for good cock in that tight pussy of yours. Do you understand?"
I nodded eagerly. I could do that. I could keep my eyes on my reflection if it meant I was going to get what I wanted.
I watched as he fumbled with his clothes behind me, listening to the jingle of his belt when he undid it and the sound of his pants being shoved down.
And then his cock was hot and hard at my entrance, and I sucked in a breath, closing my eyes at the feeling.
The sharp smack to my ass made them fly open again, and I met Killian's gaze in the mirror.
"Watch," he reminded me, and I nodded, hips still pushing back.
He didn't make me wait for it this time, clearly turned on and worked up himself.
Before I could so much as get out a syllable to tell him to hurry it the fuck up, he was pushing against my hole, the fat head of his cock sliding in with very little resistance. I was soaking wet and worked open with my fingers and his mouth, so it was easy for him to push all the way in, bottoming out in me with one smooth push.
I was left panting by the time he was all the way inside, my body clinging to his hard cock like it was loath to let it go.
He always felt so good inside of me, so big when he filled me up, and I had to remind myself to take even breaths and to be patient.
Killian could be a terrible tease, but he had never left me wanting for long.
And he didn't this time, either. In a matter of seconds he was shifting back, pulling out of me until he could push back in, setting a pace that was almost punishing.
My breasts swayed under me and I took each hard thrust with a moan, letting him use me the way he wanted to, and definitely getting completely worked up and overwhelmed by it.
It was so good, and I didn't do anything to hold back the noises I was making.
There was no one to disturb. We were up there all alone, and I knew Killian liked to hear he was doing good work. And fuck, he was doing good work.
I moaned his name and cried out when he hit that spot inside of me, pushing back and coaxing him to keep rubbing up against it.
Already the tide of pleasure was shifting, rising and threatening to get so high I was going to drown in it, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to feel good, and when the friction of his cock in me finally sent me over the edge, I almost screamed my pleasure, fingers clawing at the smooth marble of the counter, shaking and taking everything Killian had to give.
He followed soon after, making me messy all over again, even though I'd just had a bath. I didn't think I was going to be able to get the image of myself, face contorted in pleasure, out of my head for the rest of the night, and so I let Killian clean me up and get me water, and when he tucked me into the bed in the master bedroom, I didn't complain.
He sat down on the edge of it, hesitating like he couldn't decide whether to stay or go find somewhere else to sleep.
It wasn't even all that late yet, but I was still tired. The bath and the sex were catching up to me, and I felt slow and lethargic, weighed down in the best way.
The blankets were warm and smelled fresh and clean, and the pillows under my head were softer than the ones I had by a long shot.
Killian moved like he was going to get up, and I reached out, wrapping fingers around his wrist.
Usually, the end of the sex spelled the end of our interaction. I went home, and Killian did whatever it was he did when I wasn't there.
I didn't need cuddling and soft words or any of that from him. That wasn't what any of it was about between us.
But somehow, in that moment, the thought of him being somewhere else in the massive house made me a little sad, and so I had reached for him, trying to impress upon him without using words that I wanted him to stay.
Chapter 11
Killian
I'd never woken up with her before.
Not in the six months that we'd been doing whatever it was we were doing had I woken up, morning light streaming into the room, with Ashlyn in my arm.
And now that I'd done it, I realized I had a problem, and not a small one, either.
I wanted to do it again. I wanted her warmth, her softness, in my arms in the morning. I wanted the way her hair tickled the bottom of my chin, and the way she breathed softly, interspersed with little snores.
Neither of us had anywhere to be. There was no one else around, and for the moment, I felt like I knew the most peace I'd had in months. Maybe more.
I didn't know what to make of it. I hadn't gone into this marriage with the intention of getting any sort of feelings. I wanted the money, and I wanted a partner, and Ash was providing both of those things. When we'd first started out together, I'd hoped maybe we could be friends at the very least, tolerating each other for the sake of what we were doing, but I couldn't lie to myself and say this feeling was just tolerating her.
Ash had worked her way into my life little by little, and I'd known that for a while.
When she wasn't there, I missed her, and when she was, I was usually in a better mood than usual.
I was so worked up about her and Simon because I didn't want anyone else to ever touch her. I wanted to be the only one who got to kiss her and make her fall apart.
But I didn't know what to do with any of that.
Ash didn't owe me anything. She was living up to her part of the contract perfectly, showing up, letting me have my way with her. She complained almost every step of the way, but she still did it.
I couldn't ask more of her. I couldn't ask her to tell Simon she belonged to me and wasn't at all interested in him.
I didn't even know how interested in him she was. It wasn't something I could just come out and ask and expect her to be happy giving me an answer.
I'd teased her about being jealous when I played with other women, but it turned out I was just playing myself because there I was, wanting to make sure no one else ever got to have Ash again.
But we didn't have that kind of marriage. In six months, she would be free of me and could do whatever she wanted.
If she wanted Simon or whoever else, she could have them, and there was nothing I could do about that.
It was a feeling of powerlessness that I hated, and I couldn't just lay there with her in my arms, basking in the glow of the morning with those thoughts in my head. They got me worked up and irritated, so I pulled myself away from her, making sure to tuck the blankets back around her to ward off the chill of the morning, and went for a jog.
The brisk air and exercise helped, and the sound of my feet pounding against the pavement of the road that looped around the hill drove the thoughts from my head. I was able to concentrate, focus on nothing other than moving my body and counting my breaths, working through whatever mood had seized me that morning.
It was pretty stupid, all things considered, to think there would ever be anything other than a business arrangement between Ashlyn and myself.
I was so far from her type, more than likely.
Simon was an artist, probably not a sadist, and he had a connection with her. He was the type of man she wanted, more than likely.
I was just a stand in for a year. A means to an end. A way for her to forget her problems and get something out of spending time with me.
When this had all started, I'd felt almost bad about taking advantage of her needs to make her into something I wanted her to be, but now I could see that'd I'd been shaped by it, too, even though that was never the plan.
I wasn't supposed to be affected. I was supposed to be the calm and collected one. The one who could flirt with her, spank her, fuck her, break her down, and then go on about my business like it didn't matter at all.
And there I was, on a jog early in the morning because I couldn't get her out of my head.
I stayed out for a good hour or so, running until my lungs and legs burned before I made my way back to the cabin.
The sound and smell of bacon frying alerted me to the fact Ash was up and making breakfast, and I swallowed hard before I followed the smell to the kitchen, snagging a towel from the linen closet on my way to wipe the sweat from my face.
"There you are," she said when I came in. "I was wondering if you'd gotten eaten by a bear or something."
"Nothing so dramatic," I said, mouth suddenly dry when I looked at her. She was dressed casually, in just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts, even though it was still a chilly morning.
But she didn't seem bothered by the temperature, and her legs were hard to look away from.
The collar of the shirt drooped down over her shoulder, showing off skin, and even though she'd just been naked in my arms a little bit ago, the sight was more tantalizing that it had any right to be.
God. What was happening to me?
"How do you like your eggs?" she asked, jolting me out of my thoughts.
"What?"
"Eggs?" she said. "Scrambled? Fried? Poached and smothered in caviar?"
I jerked my eyes away from that one bare shoulder, making myself focus on her words so I didn't end up bending her over the kitchen table and fucking her from behind again.
It was such a domestic moment, and one I wasn’t used to being in. No one had made me breakfast without being paid for it first in such a long time. Certainly no one I was sleeping with.
But there she was, dressed like she was comfortable and wielding a spatula like some kind of kitchen godsend.
There were a lot of things I could say in the moment. For one, I could answer her question about eggs. I could tell her I liked a soft scramble and then I spread the eggs on toast and ate them that way, which got me ridiculed by people who thought that was a weird way to eat eggs.
I could tell her how beautiful she looked and how much I wanted to touch her. I could tell her to turn the stove off and bend over and I would pay for breakfast later.
But none of that was what I said. Because I was an idiot who didn’t know how to leave well enough alone, and I was overcome with new feelings I wasn’t sure how to deal with.
"I don't want you to see him anymore."
Chapter 12
Killian
The words were out of my mouth before I could consider just how bad that was going to sound and how poorly she was going to take it.
Ash was a woman who didn't enjoy being told what to do in any capacity, and there I was letting stupid things come out of my mouth this early in the morning.
She stopped, hand hovering over the pan where she'd just cracked the egg. The sizzle of it was the only other sound in the room, and she just stared at me for a second, not saying anything.
I waited for her to lash out. To tell me to go fuck myself because she could do what she wanted. But she didn't say anything for a good few minutes, poking and prodding at the eggs in the pan and tapping her foot on the floor.
The silence was so oppressive that I honestly considered saying it again, just to get a reaction out of her.
"You don't want me to see him," she finally said, letting out a little breath.
There was no need to clarify who the 'him' was in the scenario.
"No," I replied, because I'd already said it, so I might as well keep being honest. "I don't."
"Why? You don't know him. And we've been over this. If you can see and play with whoever you want, I can do the same thing."
Her voice was neutral, and it was hard to tell if she was angry or just tired of talking about this. But I was the one who had brought it up, so I had to push forward.
"I know that. I'm proposing we close that particular aspect of this marriage."
She flipped an egg, still not looking at me. "You want us to be exclusive."
It wasn't a question, but I supposed it didn't have to be.
"Yes."
"Because you don't want me to see Simon."
I almost flinched from hearing his name, but I let out a breath and stood my ground. "I know it doesn't sound very fair—”
"Ha!" she barked a laugh, cutting me off. "Fair? You don't know the fir
st fucking thing about fair, Killian. You've had six months to do whatever you wanted to do. You played with other women, got them off, made them fall all over you. You could have done more if you wanted, and you never would have had to say anything to me. There's no way for me to know you didn't do all that."
"I would have told you," I said, indignant. "I told you everything, every step of the way."
"Sure. Fine. Let's say that's true. Let's say you've been open and honest with me since day one. Fine. It's still not fair."
"What isn't fair about it?" I demanded.
She slammed the pan down onto the burner, finally letting her anger show. "Because you got to do it! You got to do whatever you fucking wanted. You knew I didn't feel great about it, but you did it anyway. And then you fucking teased me about being jealous." When she looked up at me, her eyes were flashing with rage. "And now that I finally might have someone who's interested in me, you suddenly want to close things up. Because you don't want me to see him. Because you're jealous and you're too up yourself to even use the words."
Her words hit hard, like a slap in the face. I opened my mouth to tell her she could have been seeing anyone she wanted while I was seeing other people, but then I closed it again because could she have?
Would this conversation just have happened earlier if that had been the case?
I didn't know if it was me not wanting her to see anyone or if it was just because Simon seemed so much more well suited to her than I did. I couldn't say for sure what I would have done if this had happened months ago.
She stood there, breathing hard, tension and anger in every line of her body, and I still wanted to back her against the counter and kiss her senseless, even though I knew that was a terrible idea that would result in me getting punched more than likely.
She just had this way about her, even she was angry. Maybe even especially when she was angry, that made me want her even more than I already did.
But that wasn't productive.
"Fine," I said finally. "You're right."