Charcoal, black, and every cold hue that hasn’t seen the sun.
“I knew you were more than your looks suggested. You had this clean, innocent, and utterly pretty aura, but really, you’re nothing more than a dirty little whore, aren’t you? All this fighting and running and fucking shenanigans were just a way to provoke me so I’d throw you down and fuck you on all fours like a fucking animal. Or maybe so I’d shove you headfirst against the nearest surface, like this wall, and fill you up with my cum.”
His free hand slides over my aching breasts and he cups one violently. “Tell me, were you thinking of me when you wore this red dress or was it for Gareth?”
Pleasure starts where he’s touching my breasts and ends in my core, and all I can do is focus on it.
“Answer the fucking question, Glyndon. Is he the one you wanted to feel up these pretty little tits and make these perky nipples all hard?” He pinches one and I gasp. “You always wanted the nice guy; too bad you got the fucking villain.”
“It wasn’t him…” I choke out.
“Come again?” He loosens his grip so I can breathe properly.
“The dress is for…you,” I admit on a breath.
I think that will delight him, but his face remains on the edge.
“It was for me, huh?” His hand slides from my breast to my hip, then he shoves the skirt of my dress to my waist, exposing my thighs and underwear. “You even put on lace panties and came prepared to be fucked.” He rubs his fingers against them and I can’t pretend to close my eyes out of pure mortification. “Are you sure it’s for me? Or are you saying that to please me?”
I shake my head.
“The thought of you dolling up to seduce my brother drives me fucking insane. The thought of you imagining his fucking fingers on my pussy while you were cleaning and dressing it makes me see red.”
His fingers tighten on my throat and it’s like I’m gasping for air through a straw again.
And the most embarrassing part is, my undies are utterly soaked, and I think he feels it. I think he knows exactly the type of effect he has on me.
“Did you think I’d let him touch what’s mine and live to talk about it?” He tugs me close by the neck and tilts his head down until his lips nearly touch mine and I can see my reflection in his savage eyes.
Do I really look that aroused?
I yelp as he yanks down my underwear and thrusts three fingers inside me at the same time.
A choked sob tears from my throat, and although it should be due to pain or discomfort, it’s actually due to relief.
I’ve been in a constant mode of stimulation ever since he strangled me and it’s only gotten worse with time.
“Feel that? That’s your cunt welcoming my fingers home. That’s your cunt knowing who the fuck owns it, touches it, and brings it pleasure. If someone dares to look at it, let alone contemplate touching it, they’ll be an MIA statistic, am I clear?”
A whimper rips from me and it’s sick.
I’m sick.
He’s clearly threatening to hurt people, but I can’t seem to take that into account as I drip all over his fingers, rocking my hips unconsciously at first, then intentionally.
“This is my pussy.” Thrust. “My property.” Thrust. “Fucking mine.”
A strangled gasp spills from my throat as my core pulses for the orgasm.
But just when I’m about to scream, he pulls out his fingers.
My eyes widen, staring at him, then at the place that he definitely didn’t satisfy.
“You don’t get to come after that little show of yours. This isn’t a reward.”
A frustrated sound echoes in the air and I realize it’s mine when he picks me up and throws me on the bed.
I can breathe for the first time, but I don’t focus on the animal-like sounds escaping me or the ache between my legs.
There’s something much worse.
Killian.
He tugs his shirt over his head, revealing the hard planes of his abs and stomach. Under the current tension, his physique appears massive, a weapon that can inflict both pleasure and pain.
Even the birds with broken feathers flying up his side appear more ominous. Destructive.
Killian proceeds to remove his trousers and boxers with infinite ease. He actually takes his time with the task, as if knowing exactly how nervous his methodical calm makes me.
I slide back against the mattress. “W-what do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He steps toward me with the grace of a black panther. “Finishing what I started.”
“Killian…”
“Yes, Glyndon?”
“Stop… I mean, let’s talk about this.”
“I’m done talking.”
“I’ll scream.”
“By all means, do. No one will hear you, and if they do, we can fuck on their blood if you’re not squeamish.”
I think I’m going to throw up. I wish this was him trying to scare me and that deep down, these were empty words, but this is Killian, after all.
He’s on me now, his hand fisting my dress. I try to stop him as he pulls the piece of clothing over my head and throws it away. I try to fight as he unclasps my bra and slings it to the floor. And in my attempts, I don’t think about what I’m doing—my hands flying everywhere until I’m naked in his arms.
It’s panic, I think.
If I don’t get a hold of myself, I’m going to lose before I even start.
Killian is on top of me, and his fingers flick my nipples so that both of them harden to sensitive peaks. “I’m never going to get enough of your gorgeous fucking tits.”
I place a shaky hand on his chest, on the physical perfection that is his abdomen and cut muscles and try to smooth my voice as much as possible. “You said you’d give me time.”
He doesn’t remove my hand, but he doesn’t push me down and force my legs open either. His fingers continue flicking my nipple back and forth, back and forth in an agonizing rhythm.
“That was before you decided it was a good idea to seduce my brother.”
“I didn’t seduce him.”
“His lips were on yours.”
“Like Cherry’s lips and tongue were on yours.”
“Your jealousy turns me the fuck on, but I didn’t kiss Cherry. She kissed me.”
“And I didn’t kiss Gareth.”
“Hmm.” He pinches my nipple hard and I whimper. “Is that so?”
“Yes, I promise. I didn’t want to kiss him.”
“Or see what his lips taste like?”
“Or that.” I soften my voice.
“Good call. They’re probably disgusting.” He’s caressing my nipples now, more pleasure than pain, but it’s the mild type of pleasure, the pleasure that’s not enough to stimulate my core, but I can put up with it if I can tame the tiger.
“Killian, please.” I test the waters and push him. He surprisingly lets me, so I do it again until he’s almost on his back.