He laughs with a deranged edge. “Are you maybe talking about a different Killer than the one sleeping on that bed?”
“He heard your dad tell your mum that they should’ve only had you. That would automatically make him hold a grudge against you.”
A line appears between Gareth’s brows. “He could be lying to get your sympathy.”
“He’s always been honest to me. The brutal kind.”
“Or maybe that’s what he wants you to believe.” He pushes off the wall and heads to the door.
“Gareth,” I call after him.
“Yeah?”
“Our deal is off. I’m not going to stab him in the back so you can hurt him. Deep down, I know you don’t want that either.”
“I saw this coming a mile away. This is a piece of genuine advice, Glyndon. Be careful. You might think you care for him now, but there will be times where you’ll want to kill him, and you won’t think about his nature or that he’s different. You’ll only think that he’s a motherfucking asshole who shouldn’t exist. And when you want to leave? He’ll break your legs so you never consider the option. And if you heal and attempt it again? He’ll cut them off.” He smiles, but it’s fake as he steps out and lets the door close behind him.
My focus slides back to Killian and I narrow my eyes on him. “Bastard. When did you get me on your defense team?”
I blame the sense of peace I feel in his company. Even when he’s choking me, throwing me down, and fucking me like a madman.
I blame it more on when he pulls me to sleep on top of him after, or when he takes me to watch fireflies because he knows how much they bring me joy.
Unable to ignore the onslaught of feelings running rampant in my chest, I borrow his notebook and a charcoal pencil—that Killian started to keep around—then I place the chair opposite the bed. I don’t look at the paper. My whole attention is on him while my fingers stroke line after line until I’m transported into a different zone.
It’s like my physical body ceases to exist and I’m a burst of emotions, swishes, and a manifestation of an extremely unpredictable muse.
I think it only takes me ten minutes from start to finish, but when I look at the time, it’s already two in the morning.
Thank God it’s a weekend and I can sleep in tomorrow.
Yawning, I strip down to my underwear. Then I borrow one of Killian’s T-shirts that basically serves as a nightgown.
It’s crazy how normal and familiar this feels, especially when I compare it to how I was ready to stab him to death only a few weeks ago.
I slip under the covers and pause when I feel his hot skin. The doctor said the fever would go down in a while, but how long is a while?
Shouldn’t it be now?
I lay my head on his shoulder and yelp when he turns completely in my direction and wraps both arms around me, then places me on top of him. Even while his eyes are closed.
Pleasure pools in my knickers and I clench my thighs.
I think the bastard has orgasm-trained me or something. Being on top of him only happens after he fucks my brains out. When sex isn’t the main focus, he sits me between his legs or on his lap. So now that the fucking hasn’t happened and I’m on top, my body is acting up because of it.
I rub myself against his semi-hard erection, then stop.
What the hell am I doing? He’s sleeping and feverish and I should go to hell for this.
Forcing myself to calm down, I close my eyes and let sleep whisk me away.
A moan slips from my throat.
Another one follows.
And another.
Oh, God.
His hands slide up my stomach to my nipple and then down again, but that’s not all.
My core clenches due to being rubbed on and on by his very hard cock.
I’m such a pervert for dreaming about this when he’s sick, but I guess I underestimated my sexually frustrated state when I went to sleep.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. Sometimes I want to cage you so no one but me can look at you.” Even his voice is slightly slurred but so deliciously deep and dark, like when he’s touching me for real.
The dream gets ten out of ten for details.
“I want to shoot everyone who dares to look in your direction or cause you pain. I want to bathe in their fucking blood and throw their insides at your feet. I want to fuck you there, too, in their blood, to stake a claim. You’d probably bolt if I said this to you directly, so I won’t. I’ll just keep owning you over and over, until you can no longer think about leaving me. I’ll be your shadow so no one dares to hurt you.”
He accentuates his words with a rub against my pussy, a pinch to my nipple, a bite to my stomach. He’s everywhere, and I wish that was the only reason I was turned on.
His words have the strangest effect on me, they make me delirious and greedy for more.
Maybe I’m sick, too, for being this aroused by his threats of murder for me.
His fingers leave my nipples and slide to my throat. The moment they squeeze, my air vanishes.
Killian throws my leg up against his chest and he pounds inside in one delicious go.
This isn’t a dream.
My eyes fly open, and sure enough, I’m completely naked. My legs are flung over his shoulders as he holds them hostage with one hand while the other is currently on the verge of suffocating me.
Wasn’t this crazy bastard feverish not too long ago? Actually, he still is, judging by his hot touch.
Or maybe that’s me.
Just how can he have this intense power, even worse than usual, when he’s sick?
Apparently, my body doesn’t understand that logic, considering the sluicing sound of his cock going in and out of me.
The fact that he didn’t give a fuck that I was asleep and took what he wanted anyway makes me a mess.
A wanton mess.
I dig my fingers in his wrist, fruitlessly trying to ease his hold on my neck even as I soak his dick and the sheets with my arousal.
“That’s it. Fight, baby.” His expression is manic, absolutely terrifying. “The more you do, the harder I fuck you.”
I go berserk, scratching and clawing and trying to hurt him anywhere I can reach.
And as he promised, he fucks me harder and faster, with a power that knocks the living breath out of me.
“That’s my fucking girl,” he grunts, his eyes half closed, probably with both dark lust and the fever’s pain. “You’re the most beautiful I’ve ever seen when you’re taking my cock like a dirty little whore.” He releases my legs. “Keep them there. If they fall, we’ll start all over again.” Then he reaches between us and glides my arousal to my back hole, making me shudder, then thrusts a finger inside. “Your ass is feeling lonely. Look at it clenching around my finger wanting to take part in the fun. You’ll let me fuck you raw until you’re screaming my name, won’t you?”
I’m choking on my breaths and unable to think, just feel.
So I fall into that sensation of being completely ravaged by him. His hand, his cock, and his finger in my arse are all moving at the same time, creating the maddest chaos.