by Amo Jones
Kill stands to his feet, wrapping my hair around his wrist and tugging my head back. He leans over me until his lips touch the back of my ear. “Need what, baby?”
Baby.
“You inside me…” I plead. “Please.”
His fingers come to my entrance again and I turn my head over my shoulder, my hair falling down one side. “Killian!” I scream. “Now!”
“Alright, alright, jeez…” He chuckles. “Chill. I’ll dick you down.”
“I’m going to hit you,” I grind out, anger simmering beneath the surface of my lust. I hear his belt buckle clink.
“Well you can’t.”
“We—” He slams inside of me and I scream, my head flying back and my legs dissolving under my weight.
He stops when he’s in deep, his balls rubbing against my clit. He leans over and once again brings his lips to my ear. “What was that you were going to say?”
My lips curl behind my teeth.
“Just what I thought.” He tugs on my hair while slowly pulling out. “Look in the mirror.”
I do. I’m fixed on the way he’s diving inside of me, my head tilted back. He cocks his head, illustrating his sharp jaw. I feel myself slowly tense around him like a vise. My core pulls and tugs, not wanting to let him go every time he retracts. I’m completely at his mercy.
“I don’t want you with anyone else here.”
I’m too busy grinding against him, lost in the way my body relentlessly climbs higher and higher, reaching for the very tip of my orgasm, all so the world can crumble at my feet when I release.
“Answer me, Saskia. Say yes. I’m not fucking sharing. Not you. Not ever.” His fingers massage into the back of my scalp. When I don’t answer, he tugs on my hair and pauses his thrusting until my head is tilted completely back. His other hand clamps around the front of my throat. “You have three seconds to answer me, baby. One.”
“I—” My voice cuts out as he tenses around my throat.
“Two.”
I tap at his hand in defeat as he continues to thrust inside of me roughly. “Killian…”
“Not an answer…” he warns, and my eyes find his in one of the mirrors.
He smirks at me, releasing my throat just enough for me to answer.
“Yours!”
He stills, his mouth falling open slightly in shock. I wasn’t planning on participating in ho-tivities anyway, unless I absolutely had to have sex with someone in the cage and if that did happen, I planned to go straight for Kenan. I didn’t have enough time to think about my words in the moment, and he knew that. He didn’t need to gain access into my brain, he just needed to distract me.
“Fuck!” He groans, his head rolling back. “Let go, baby.”
As if on cue and at his command, I release around him, my muscles throbbing, aching. Sweat bubbles over my skin, my breathing heavy and ragged, my limbs liquefying.
He pulls out quickly. “Turn around and get on your knees. Need to come all over this fucking beautiful face.” I turn around and fall to my knees.
His skin flashes with fire, his pupils dilating. I watch in fascination as his hands work over his length. The veins beneath his skin bulging to the surface.
Leaning forward, I suck one of his balls into my mouth.
He freezes before his hand comes to my hair and he piles it all onto the top of my head. “Fuck, Saskia…”
I flick my tongue over him before dragging it up his length. I can’t grip onto his dick because I’m still bound behind my back, but I inch up and slowly suck his tip into my mouth. The soft skin slips down my throat easily as I peer up at him beneath my lashes. His sharp jaw flexes. His violent eyes thrash beneath his thick lashes as they fan out against his flawless skin. His head rolls back.
I feel him tense in my mouth just before he pulls out and hot liquid sprays all over my face. I didn’t close my eyes fast enough because now they’re burning.
“Oh my god, Killian!” I screech. “It burns!”
He chuckles loudly.
“Killian, I’m serious!” I keep them squeezed shut.
A loud burst of laughter erupts from him this time and I actually think I might hit him. “Alright!” His laughter dies out. “Chill, damn.” I feel something rub over my face as my eyes slowly pop open.
“It still hurts. What the hell!”
Killian leans down to meet me at eye level, smirking. Then he licks me across my eye before planting a soft kiss over it. “You’ll be fine. Let’s go. We’ve still got some hunting to do tonight.”
“What?” I stand to my feet as he continues to wipe his cum off my face with his t-shirt. “It’s too cold. We should leave now so you can change.”
His eyes sparkle in mischief. That’s Killian. Mischief. Only his mischief is a ploy to distract you, because below that surface lies fury. I’ve seen an inkling of it exposed a few times now, and I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath—ever.
He slips his shirt back on and winks, pulling me under his arm. “What? I don’t need to change.”
I shove him playfully. “You are so gross.”
“I’ve had my mouth on your pussy, my tongue in it, my finger up your ass, and next time, I plan to have something else around that area too, so I don’t think my own cum on my shirt is really going to disturb me.”
Shaking my head. “I’m judging you right now.”
We’re heading back through the curtain I entered through when Perse and King pass us. “Well, well, isn’t this a sight.” King smirks at us. I didn’t know King before he met Perse. I mean, I had heard of him and I remember parts of him as a kid, but apparently, he has changed a lot since being reconciled with her. As if his pain and anguish was put to rest the day she came back alive.
“Psshhh.” Killian flips him off. “You can’t talk, lover boy.”
We’re walking back through the park when Callan comes skipping up toward us. “Oh, you caught Saskia. I’m so surprised.” If she was trying to hide her sarcasm, it wasn’t working.
I gape at her.
Killian laughs, pulling me in closer and plants his lips onto the top of my head. “Fuck off, Callan.”
Callan huffs, disappearing. It should be a red flag to see how he speaks to Callan, but for the time that I’ve known Killian, he has never sworn at me. I’ve never felt disrespected by him. Even when he was being Killian and tormenting me, I never felt disrespected. Maybe it had to do with the fact that his eyes were always on me, or maybe it was because I’m naïve, but you can’t judge someone’s character based on how they treat another person without knowing the full story.
“Can you untie this please?”
Killian laughs. “Nope.” He pauses, regarding me closely. I try to ignore the way the full moon illuminates every single sharp angle of his face. “Actually…”
He leans forward and unties the bandana from around my wrists.
He brings it to my face and ties it from my nose.
“What are you doing?” I ask, shaking my head.
He chuckles, leaning back and pulling out his phone. He snaps a photo, the flash flicking brightly, blinding me for a second, which isn’t a good thing considering I’m partially blind in that one eye still thanks to Killian’s lack of aim.
I tug his bandana down until it’s resting over my neck. “What was that about?”
He peers up at me beneath his lashes, a dark smirk on his mouth. “Don’t worry about it.”
A loud whistle sounds out behind us and we turn to see Kyrin standing on a picnic table. “Everyone got their partners I see! Now you can all fuck off home and get whatever it is that you want.”
I watch as Killian’s focus starts shifting around the place. It takes him a few seconds to stop his searching. I follow his line of sight until I find Maya. She’s standing alone, rubbing the palms of her hands up and down her arms. She looks lost, confused—hurt, maybe? I watch Killian’s face, gauging his reaction. I know how close he and Maya are, but do the same rules that I agreed to apply to
him too?
Killian is a wolf in wolf’s clothing. He’s vicious with what he wants and easily stakes claim on whatever it is that he wants, but he never did with Maya.
Is she still a threat? Should I even have threats?
I hate this part of seeing someone. The talking stage. The sex stage. The stage that can feel like purgatory in every relationship.
His smirk falls and I watch as her eyes slowly come to his. I watch the silent conversation pass between the two of them and suddenly, I want to know their story. I want to know when they first met and how they feel about each other. How they really feel about each other.
My stomach drops. When he’s done with me, will he go back to her, his home base?
Maya starts walking toward us and I step backward, not wanting to be here or anywhere near them both when they’re together. I can feel myself fill with jealousy and I hate it. If I stay here, I’ll for sure display that fact out all over my face too.
“Hey,” Maya says, smiling at Killian.
“You alright?” he asks. I can hear the worry in his tone. It’s not the same tone he uses with me. With me, it’s playful, a little caveman like, but playful. But the way he addresses Maya, you can see that he takes her seriously.
My throat contracts and swells, making it hard to swallow. Their chatting dies out, everything around me fading to black. I didn’t know that I was walking back to the parking lot until I bang into Val. I fucked up.
“Wow!” She reaches for my arms, looking over my shoulder to see where I came from. Her smile turns into a slight frown. “Right, I see you were inconvenienced with KiMay.”
“KiMay?” I ask, eyebrows pinched in confusion.
She hooks her arm in mine and leads me back to one of the SUVs that followed behind Killian and I when we drove out. “Yep. Come on, my driver will take you home.”
I sigh, tension leaving my muscles when I reach for the door. I shut it after Val is in beside me. As the driver pulls away, I catch Killian spinning around to see where I had gone. It took him that long to realize I had left. My insecurities swallow me whole.
“What’s their deal?” I ask, ignoring my phone vibrating in my bra.
“Well.” Val rakes her long blonde hair away from her face as we drive down a road that reminds me of the Yellow Brick Road on the Wizard of Oz. “They were born on the same day, two years apart, so they usually celebrate their birthdays together. Delila and Draya, Killian’s mom, were really close. Best friends. Delila isn’t a perfect mom, not by any means, but one day when Maya was nine years old, Delila up and left Maya with Draya. So they ended up being literally raised together. At Kyrin’s sweet sixteen, she lost her virginity to Kill. He laughed it off afterward and she pretended to too, but Maya was heartbroken. She has always held a torch for him. Always. When—” She pauses, her throat gulping. “I should probably stop. Whatever I was about to say, is not my place to say it, but I will say this: Killian is not as harmless as he looks.” She gives me a side-eye before looking back ahead to the road. “He has dark demons living inside of him that were put there by an incident when he was a boy, and then everything he did for Midnight Mayhem after that only fed those demons.”
I gulp. An incident? I respect that she won’t tell me, but it doesn’t mean I’m not interested.
The driver pulls into Killian’s driveway, leaving the car idling.
“What I’m saying is that KiMay have been through life together, and it’s hard to compete for the affection of Killian, period, let alone compete with that, and I’ll be honest, no one has ever come close to being important to him—no one but Maya.” She offers me a small smile. “Just be careful and try not to let any walls down as far as Killian is concerned. He’s damaged. So damaged the only person who will ever be able to comfort him is Maya.”
I sigh, unclicking my seatbelt and reaching for the door handle. “Thanks for the chat.” I push open the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Val nods. “Yep! Have you thought about where you’re getting marked?”
I groan, cracking my neck. “Not really. I mean, I don’t know where my parents were, so I don’t know.”
Val smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Okay. Well I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I shut the door and turn toward the large house. “Great.”
The four white pillars are spread across a vast porch. There’s a chair at the front and solar lights spread throughout the well-kept garden bed that lines it. I jog up the stairs and open the front door, closing it quickly and making a run for my room.
“Oh, hello!” A voice interrupts my step just as I’m halfway up. I turn around to face her.
“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She’s wearing a white tennis dress and white tennis shoes. Her red hair is in a clean top knot and her face is bare of makeup. She has to be around mid-thirties.
“No!” She waves me off, flashing a stunning smile. “I’m Cora. I take care of the house while the Corneliis are away. I reside in the pool house in the back.”
I shuffle on my feet.
“Sorry,” she apologizes again. “Just let me know if you need anything and I’ll try to do what I can while you’re here.”
“Thank you, Cora, and my name—”
“—Saskia,” she whispers softly.
Shocked into silence, I take one step back down the stairs. “How did you know my name?”
She shakes her head, waving me off. “Killian had told me prior to your arrival, to ensure your room was ready.”
“Ah, okay. Well, goodnight!” I wave her off and continue back upstairs until I’m in my room.
I flip the lock, strip out of my clothes, dumping them in the dirty pile and slipping in and out of the shower, paying extra special attention to scrubbing off my face. Once I’m clean and sedated, I flip off the light and climb beneath the covers of my bed. I didn’t even put my phone on the charger, and before I could mentally drag myself up to grab it, my eyes had fallen and sleep had taken hold.
Black. The room is filled with dark smoke, spilling over my body. My vision is unclear, with no bright spots. No humanity. No light. No thoughts…
Banging. Loud thumping. A gorilla? King Kong banging on his chest? “Gorilla” by Bruno Mars starts playing in the background with laughing chimpanzees dancing around the room.
“Sass!” The gorilla spoke my name perfectly, before banging on his chest again. “Open the fucking door!”
Wait, what?
Another bang just as I shoot up off my bed, my heart racing and hair flying everywhere. I shove my eye mask over my head and rush for the door, worried that something may have happened while I was sleeping.
I swing it open, wincing at the sheer audacity of the hallway light.
Killian is standing in the door frame, seething, his chest bare and scratch marks down his chest.
He takes a deep breath, falling backward and sliding down the wall.
Scrubbing my eyes clean, I finally see him in real light. Along with the scratch marks, there are small splatters of blood over his chest, hands, and face.
“What happened?” I ask, falling to the ground opposite him while checking for injuries. “Killian!” My hands come to his cheeks and I pull his attention to me. “What. Happened?”
When his eyes fall on mine, they’re distracted. Lost. As if he’s here physically but not here mentally.
“Had to make sure you were okay.” He’s still not looking at me, so I move my head around to try to catch his sight.
“What do you mean?”
He reaches for my cheek, running his bloody thumb over my lip. “Where’d you go?” His voice is strained, and I watch as his vulnerability rears its ugly head.
I lean into his touch. “Home, Killian. I came home.”
“Home,” he answers, his hand falling beside him. “I kind of like the fact that you’re calling my home, home. God, I fucking hate Kiznitch.” His eyes squeeze closed.
“Come on.” I reach for his h
and. A heavy thud sounds out from behind him.
I keep my eyes on his. “Am I going to like what I see when I look at what you’ve dropped?”
“Depends,” he says, and for the first time since he interrupted my sleep, I see a slight shift back to the Killian I have come to know. His top lip curls up in a smirk. “You like blood?”
I sigh, breaking eye contact and looking down to the floor. A long and sharp military style knife stares back at me with dried blood crusting over the handle and blade. I mentally count to three in my head.
One, I don’t know what Killian does for Kiznitch or Mayhem, but I have heard stories of what the Four Fathers and Brothers do.
Two, someone is very hurt tonight, and it isn’t Killian.
Three, he came to me and not Maya.
I lean down, picking the knife up from the floor. I take his hand in mine and lead him into my room. Shoving him onto my bed, he remains silent as he watches me move around the room.
I turn the bedside lamp on quickly, before making my way into the bathroom, dropping the knife into the sink and turning on the faucet. “Jesus.”
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
I’m scrubbing off the blood with soap when I feel his arm wrap around my belly. He drops his lips to the crook of my neck. “Turn around.”
I do, slowly turning to face him. His tongue sneaks out and dampens his bottom lip. “I killed someone tonight.”
Okay clearly, I’m going to have to up my count.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five.
“Okay. Why are you telling me this?” I tilt my head so that I can look up at him.
He leans down and runs his lips over mine. “Because I killed for you.” He presses a kiss against my mouth. “You gonna ask why? Or you gonna be a good little girl and not ask questions that I can’t tell you the answers to?”
I bring my hand up to his chest, forcing him away to give myself some distance.
He chuckles. “Are you even Kiznitch?”
I close my eyes, ignoring his words. “Who did you kill tonight?”
When my eyes open again, he’s staring down at me. His energy alone is eating up the space between us.