Killian Read online

  underestimated him.

  His fingers return to my abdomen, tracing along my stretch marks, and this time I don't stop him. He moves lower, lingering a moment, teasing me before he lightly touches his fingertips to my clit.

  "Are you going to tell me where you got yours?" I ask, my voice soft.

  "No," he says, bringing his mouth down on mine.

  "No?" I ask, when our lips finally part.

  "No." His fingers circle my clit, over and over. "Because right now I'm going to fuck you, Red. I'm going to slide my cock inside your pussy, and I'm going to fuck you nice and slow until you're begging me to let you come. And then, when you finally come – when I finally let you come – I'm going to do it again. Because I have a feeling you need to make up for lost time. Am I right?"

  Do I need to make up for lost time?

  It's been two years since a man has touched me. Only two years of time lost. Except… it's been a lifetime since anyone has touched me the way Luke touches me.

  "Well?" he asks.

  "Yes." I choke out the word as he slides his finger between my legs, slipping inside me, easily aided by my wetness. "Yes."

  17

  Autumn

  Luke is as good as his word. He fucks me, this time slow – his movements so excruciatingly drawn out that I think I'm going to die in some kind of pleasure-induced stroke as he moves inside me. He fucks me long and slow, holding himself above me with one hand as his other hand roams my body, up my arm, over my breasts, his fingers tangled in my hair as he kisses me. When his hands finally settle in one place, his fingers are interlaced with mine, hands above my head as he drives into me, fucking me with a gentle rhythm that's so natural, so effortless it feels as if we've been doing this forever.

  Luke brings me higher and higher until the only thing I'm aware of anymore is how I feel. Every part of my body feels wired, on edge.

  "Tell me how it feels," he whispers as the head of his cock presses against me in just the right spot, the place that sends pulses of arousal through my body, all the way down to my fingertips.

  "Oh, God, Luke," I moan. How do I tell him that this is unlike anything I've ever felt?

  "Fucking you is amazing," he says. "You fit me like you're fucking made for me."

  His words send a rush of arousal between my legs. "Your cock..."

  "Say it. Tell me how much you like my cock."

  "I love your cock." My words are more of a moan than actual words. I want all of him inside me. I want him deeply, and entirely, and completely, and I don't want to let him go.

  "I love hearing that come out of your mouth."

  "I love your cock." I repeat it, the words liberating. I've never talked like this during sex, never said much of anything, in fact. Until now, I've been quiet. And now, I somehow find my voice.

  He speaks to me. He whispers how much he loves my pussy, bringing me to the edge and then denying me, telling me I can't crash over, that I won't come until he lets me come. And I don’t. I hold off, waiting for him, losing myself in the rhythm with him until it becomes so unbearable that I'm whining, begging him to let me come, telling him how much I need.

  I need so much, I tell him. I need him.

  Then he tells me to come – no, orders me to come. And when I do, it’s blinding light, an orgasm that seems to wash over my entire body, overtakes my entire self, and sweeps me away. I hear him calling my name, whispering my name over and over as he comes inside me, and I'm clinging to him, my nails digging into his back, clawing at him wildly as I ride wave after wave of pleasure so intense I think I'm on the verge of tears.

  Afterward, I lie with my forehead forward against his chest and trying to catch my breath as I come down. We lie there like that, with him inside me, neither of us speaking. The room is still, completely quiet except for our breathing.

  "That was…" I start, and then stop. I don't have words for it.

  "Pretty fucking awesome," he finishes.

  "Yeah."

  We lay there silently for a few minutes before Olivia's high-pitched squeal reverberates through the stillness in the house. "Shit," I mutter.

  He jumps up, and off the bed, and I'm scrambling to throw on a robe, my heart racing. "We didn't wake her up, did we?" he asks.

  "No, we were quiet," I assure him. "She just wakes up sometimes."

  "You sure?" he asks, a pained expression on his face.

  "Positive." I'm dressed and out the door before I can decide whether the pained look is because he's suddenly remembered that I have a child.

  It's a few minutes before I calm Olivia down and get her into her crib, sleeping peacefully as if she never woke at all. Luke is downstairs, his clothes and shoes on, and the realization hits me. He’s slinking out of here.

  I stand there, looking at him warily.

  "I'm totally not leaving," he says awkwardly, holding up his hand. "I’m just getting Lucy back in here. I let her out a few minutes ago and she’s out chasing something, I’m sure.”

  I laugh, wondering why the hell I feel relieved. "You mean you weren't sneaking out?"

  Luke laughs. "Shit. No. Is that what you thought?"

  I look at him, one eyebrow raised. "Isn't that what you do?"

  He stands straighter, practically bristling as he looks at me. "You don't know that."

  "Says the guy who has girls blowing up his phone with angry texts?"

  “Touché,” he murmurs. “Anyway, I’m not leaving, so stop assuming the worst.”

  “Who said you leaving was the worst case scenario?” I ask, my voice light.

  A slow smile spreads across Luke’s face. “Don’t pretend like you don’t fucking want me, woman.” He reaches for me, but I dodge his grasp as he laughs, breezing past me toward the front door. “I’m going to go chase down my dog, but when I get back, you’re going to pay for your smart ass.”

  When he returns, I’ve just finished brushing my teeth, and he walks up behind me, sliding cold hands around my waist that make me squeal. “You’re freezing!” I hiss. “Maybe I don’t want you in my bed.”

  “I’ll keep you warm, Red,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. I can see his reflection in the mirror above the sink, and it makes me laugh. “Unless you’re giving me the boot. Hit it and quit it?”

  I turn around to face him, my ass pressed up against the bathroom counter, and he flicks open my robe with his finger. He looks down at me, and heat rushes between my legs, despite the fact that I just had him. “Isn’t that what we said?” I ask. “We’re friends.”

  "That's what you said." Luke trails his finger up the inside of my thigh, one light stroke. "I never said such a thing."

  “You said you didn’t have women friends,” I say, my voice breaking as he moves his fingers up higher, between my legs.

  “This is a case in point,” he says, pressing his fingertip firmly against my clit.

  “We’re totally friends.”

  "Uh-huh," he agrees. Never breaking eye contact, he slides two fingers inside me, and my breath catches in my throat. "I don't know about you, but I don't do what the hell I just did with you with any of my friends."

  “Mmm-hmm.” I have no response, not when he’s touching me like that.

  "Get in the shower," he commands, sliding his hand from between my legs. "Friend."

  I laugh. "I hope you don’t shower with your friends."

  “Well, I did play football,” he points out, pressing me against the shower wall as soon as I step inside, “but none of those guys were nearly as hot as you are naked.”

  “I hope not,” I say before his mouth covers mine. His hand slides along my naked body, slick with water, and I lose myself in his touch. He spins me around, washing my body slowly with a more careful touch than I’d expect.

  I protest when he insists on washing my hair, but he pulls me tight against his wet body, his hardness pressed against my lower back, arm over my chest, kissing my ear until I’m barely able to think, let alone tell him no. "Let me take care of y