Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“No. You’re tougher than you think.”
I’m supposed to be talking, but the temptation to kiss her is simply far too powerful, my body pulsing with the need.
She makes that adorable whimpering sound when I fiercely claim her lips with mine, pushing against her like I own her… because I do own her.
Her hands rise cautiously to my shoulders, as if she’s afraid of how I’ll react if she squeezes on too tightly.
Our tongues flair against each other, tempting me to do more.
My hand is sliding up her leg.
She shifts, and moans through the muffled press of our lips.
I can read the moan. She’s telling me to stop.
But my cock is hard, the helm pushing against my pants, precome leaking as I realize something.
I can’t stop.
I need to touch her soaked pussy, just like we talked about over text.
She moans again when I’m almost at her pussy, then she presses her legs together, trapping my hand.
CHAPTER 12
Mia
“Wait.”
I gasp, forcing the word out as I lean away from Killian’s lips. The deep want from within my core screams at me, demanding to know what I mean by wait. What possible reason could I have for saying or even thinking something so absurd?
Wait….
When his hand is nearly at my burning sex, my mind flaring with all the stuff he said over text, my chest aching with all it could mean.
His hand pauses, his flaring eyes eating into me, consuming me.
It’s like he’s going to tell me no.
The way he’s looking at me, I can imagine him saying….
“I’m not waiting for anything. I’m going to pleasure your soaked pussy right now, and you’re going to be good and take every moment.”
“We’re in public,” I whisper, voice wavering.
He shakes his head slowly. “It’s not that.”
“Killian….”
“It’s what you hinted at over text. Your first orgasm… and I’m your first kiss. Is there another first you want to tell me about?”
“Can you back off?” I say, even if most of me doesn’t want him to.
Even if most of me is screaming out for him to kiss me again, we need to slow down for his hand to claim my body.
He leans back slowly, nodding.
Invisible chains wrap around him, restraining him, but I can tell he could snap them at any moment. He could throw them off and then throw himself at me; and this time, not stop.
Part of me almost wants it. For him to claim me so possessively, I’m left with no choice but to melt into his touch.
He’s right. He’s guessed the truth about me.
But I can’t say it.
He’s staring expectantly.
“Maybe I’ll tell you over text,” I say, trying to make my voice sassy.
But it comes out laced with indecision.
“Anyway… you haven’t finished telling me everything.”
“I’m holding you to that promise,” he says. “Over text.”
My heart shudders. The fact of what I am, of my inexperience, should make this impossible. Just me being here, sitting opposite this man, should be unthinkable.
I don’t say anything.
It’s like the outside world is pressing through the car windows and the doors, threatening to crush me. I have to remind myself of Dad teaching me to drive, one of our only activities together, and how I was able to trick myself into believing inside the car was the same as inside the house.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He wraps his hand around mine with surprising tenderness, warmth enveloping me. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I’m not scared,” I tell him in a blatant lie. “I just don’t want to be in this car.”
He nods, squeezing my hand. I can still sense the urgency trying to spill out of him, the pounding deep in his body, something trying to break free.
It can’t be the same need I feel for him.
Can it?
“I’m sorry about your Dad,” I murmur, trying to get the conversation back on track.
Killian sighs, nodding. “He wasn’t a good man. The booze got him when I was in my early twenties.”
“If he was the one who made you box….”
“Why did I continue?”
I nod.
Killian’s hand is still on mine. It feels so natural for us to sit this way, as though we’ve been close countless times before, as though there’s something magical happening between us.
An instant connection, an instant fusion.
When I first embraced him, I felt it all drift away, the fear and the wondering.
And it’s the same now, the melting of the anxiety.
“I promised him I’d become world champion. Told him that on his deathbed. Parents are complicated. I didn’t like my Dad, but I loved him. And even if his lessons came with fists, some of them were worthwhile. You know, like the importance of keeping your word… so I kept fighting.”
“And this man, Emil, he didn’t touch you because your Dad was in the mob?”
“Maybe. I never knew for sure. By the time he really started to get pissed – he was taking my refusal personally – I was beginning to become famous. It would’ve been logistically difficult for him to take me out.”