“Stay here.” He strode into the kitchen, and I heard a drawer open and shut and then he walked back with what looked like rope dangling from his hand. My heart skipped a beat and belly thunked, but it was a good thunk. An excited thunk.
“Give me your wrists,” he said, stopping in front of me.
There was no hesitation as I held them out in front of me. He was deliberate and methodical as he tied my wrists together with the rope like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he’d done this before.
“You’ve done this before?”
“The ropes, yes,” he said without looking at me. Something was wrong. He was being cold and avoiding my eyes.
“Killian?”
“Raise your arms above your head,” he ordered.
“Killian?” I repeated as I did as he requested. He reached the chain and threaded the end of the rope through a link, and I felt the tautness on my wrists. “Are you going to look at me?”
His chest was against mine as he knotted the rope, so my arms were hitched above my head and my back was against the hard leather of the bag.
“Killian. Look at me.” I said, but he still didn’t. “See me.” Because whatever he saw now wasn’t me. It was too precise and unemotional. Something had shifted from the bag to him tying me up. “Killian,” I whispered. “Please.”
His arms lowered and his hands glided down my arms to my waist where his fingers spanned them. His eyes were closed, and his lips pressed firmly together.
“Does this remind you of someone else?” I asked.
His eyes snapped open. “There is no one else.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
He clenched his jaw. “Jesus, Savvy. You. It’s you. It’s this. You asking me to do this. You knowing what I need when I’m supposed to be the one giving you what you need.” He bowed his head, and I wished I could hold him. Touch him.
“What I need is you.” I waited until his head lifted and our eyes locked. “Just you and whatever comes with you. The hurt. The pain. The anger. The sweet and the caring. All of you.”
My sex tweaked because the look in his eyes was heated and possessive. He reached for me, and my breath hitched, and goose bumps popped before he even made contact.
And when he did make contact, it was his thumb tracing the plump surface of my lower lip then to my chin, neck, collarbone and to the crevice between my breasts. His eyes followed his caress until he stopped at my belly button. “You don’t know all of me.”
“I know,” I replied.
He nodded, then his finger continued its path to my sex, and I sucked in a lungful of air as he slipped into the wetness. “Never have I been with someone. Not like you.”
Lowering his head, his lips a breath away from mine, he inserted his finger up inside me at the same time as his mouth took mine.
Warmth invaded, and the chain clanked as I yanked on the rope. The hard leather of the bag swayed into my back and pushed me closer to him. He groaned and grabbed me around the waist, deepening the kiss.
Having the weight of the bag at my back and him at my front, both pressing into me, was cathartic. Unable to get away. Not wanting to, but being vulnerable to him… it was erotic and overwhelming and intense.
It was trusting him completely. A giving of myself, letting go and surrendering to him.
He broke away and yanked off his shorts then checked my wrists and rope before he hitched me up in his arms. He used one hand to position his cock and the other to hold my ass.
I wrapped my legs around him. “Hard, Killian. I want you to fuck me like when you hit the bag.”
His brows lowered for a second. “Savvy,” he growled and then he kissed me again, as he pushed his cock deep inside.
But he didn’t move.
Instead, he kissed me while I curled my hands around the rope, using it as leverage to hold my body up. But I didn’t need to. Killian’s arms held me.
And he’d never let me go. I just wasn’t sure if that was literal or not. But right now it didn’t matter.
“I tried, baby. Fuck, I tried, but I couldn’t.”
“Tried?”
His cock pulsed inside me and my body throbbed with need, but I didn’t move as he rested his forehead against my chin. “Sex.”
My chest tightened and heart pounded. He couldn’t be saying what I think he was saying. “Killian? I don’t understand.”
He lifted his head and his eyes met mine. Those ice green eyes that reminded me of the Popsicles my dad and I ate on the porch.
“I’ve been with a lot of women. Mostly play. Bondage. But other things at the BDSM club. Two girls at once, fuck, it was easier when it was two girls, but I never fucked them. Never did my cock go inside them. You’re the first, Savvy.” My eyes widened and I gasped. “I tried once after you left. But I couldn’t do it. All I saw was you.”
“Killian.” My insides melted in a heat of… what? Love. Did I love Killian?
He briefly kissed my quivering lips. “I didn’t want to ruin the image of being inside you. So, I kept that for myself.”
Oh, God. A tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. He saw it and kissed it away.
“Now that I have you and the image is real… fuck, I can’t let you go again.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Killian.”
He groaned and tilted his hips. His cock sank deeper and I closed my eyes.
Then there were no more words as he fucked me against the bag. With each thrust, the bag moved away and then swayed back into me.
It was hard. Fast. And just when I thought my wrists couldn’t take it anymore, he reached up and yanked on the loose end and the rope released.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. He met my fierce need with his own as he carried me to bed then lowered me, his lips never leaving mine.
Then Killian made love to me.
It wasn’t wild and raw. But with each thrust, each touch, each kiss, it was the building of something more. Something neither of us could get back. Parts of us, maybe.
My mind spun with his words repeating over and over in my head. And in some ways, it hurt because I’d been with other men. I’d thought I was going to spend my life with David. I’d had a plan.