Oh god. He hasn’t been fucking me? I’m going to die. He’s going to fuck me to death.
All of the breath is punched out of my lungs when K begins to pound in earnest. He is relentless, thrusting hard over and over until reality becomes hazy and sensation takes over. Held down and helpless, all I can do is feel, absorb what K gives me.
“Jesus, Britt,” he huffs. K leans forward, his sweat-slick body covering mine. The hand on my hip reaches for a breast and he twists my nipple. The pain sends me over the edge. I scream while K continues fucking me through my second climax.
Right when I think I might pass out from the intensity, K roars, slamming in deep one last time as his release tears from him.
I’m floating—a pleasant, drifting semi-awareness. I feel K’s heat, the weight of him splayed on top of me, but it’s as if I’m watching from above. I must lose time, because the next thing I know, K is pulling down the covers and climbing into the bed. His heavy arm comes around my waist and the hard ridges of his body press against my back. K brushes his thumb over my abdomen, the affectionate gesture an absolute contradiction to the harsh, physical sex we just had.
I want to think about it more, the kind, sweet man who peeks through the rough, frightening exterior, but I’m too tired.
My eyes are heavy, my mind still flying high as I sink into sleep. The final thought that flicks through consciousness before I let the darkness take me is finally… I finally found exactly what I need.
No. Exactly who I need.
And I won’t stop until he gives me everything.
7
Killer
My eyes fly open at the piercing ring of my phone. I sit up, disoriented. Where the hell am I?
Drinking to oblivion and passing out isn’t something I’ve done since I learned the control and discipline necessary to excel at Muay Thai. Only, I didn’t drink last night. I rub my eyes, the stupid phone still blaring.
Irritated, I swing my feet over the bed and follow the sound. The room is dark, but a few slivers of light filter through the edges of heavy curtains. I paw through a pile of clothes on the floor. Shorts, pocket, phone.
Finally. I answer with a rude, incoherent grunt.
“Killer? Where are you? Did you take Britt to her room? I can’t find her.” Gabriel’s voice is not angry, but laced with concern. Britt?
Oh fuck.
I drag a hand down my face, trying in vain to rub away the idiocy of my actions. Cringing, I glance over my shoulder and confirm what I already know. Blonde hair is spread across one of the pillows of the king-sized bed in my hotel room.
The one time I lose control of myself and it’s with Britt. What was I thinking? For fuck’s sake, I work with her! My plan to treat her like I treat all the other women I’ve been with, dirty and degrading, backfired in my face. Sweet, innocent Britt loved every minute of it—the pain, biting, spanking, being restrained. Fuck, just thinking of it has my dick waking up for more. I thought she’d be a missionary, making-love kind of girl and I’d scare her away. Instead, all I did was make it impossible for myself to not want more.
“Killer!” Gabriel begins yelling in rapid-fire Portuguese. “Are you listening to me? You and Britt are supposed to be at this press conference in fifteen minutes. Where the fuck are you?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I’m coming. Sorry. I’ll bring Britt with me.” I hang up before Gabriel can ask why Britt is with me and what I’m doing with her. Damn, he’s going to be so pissed.
I’m pissed at myself.
No time for regrets. Right now, I have to get her up and both of us need to go downstairs ASAP. The AFL press conference is a big deal. It’s mandatory for all of the fighters to take part.
“Britt.” I hover over the bed, unsure of the best way to wake her up. When she doesn’t move, I speak louder. “Britt.”
“Mmmmmhhmhphh.” She tugs the sheet up higher and rolls away. She’s gorgeous. Rumpled and relaxed, like a beautiful angel.
Jesus Christ, I am so stupid. I’ll never get enough of her.
“Britt!” I shake her arm at the same time I shout her name.
“What?” She bolts upright, recoiling. Her eyes are wide with fear.
I hold up my hands to show I’m not going to hurt her. “The press conference. It’s starting in fifteen minutes.” Without waiting for a reply, I scoop up her clothes and toss them on the bed. “Hurry!”
Realization sinks in and Britt springs to action, babbling for me to give Gabriel her apologies as she tugs on her pants. I rush into the bathroom and turn on the shower. While I’m busy taking the fastest shower known to man, I hear the door to my room close.
She left.