Killian: A West Bend Saints Romance (West Bend Saints #4)

"You seem to bring it out of me," he said, reaching for me, and I side-stepped him. "Oh, is that how it's going to be? I will chase you down if I have to."

"Come and get me then," I said, turning and heading through the room. From behind me, Silas laughed, catching me as I rounded the hallway.

"Good thinking," he said, picking me up, his hands under my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist. "I haven't had you in this room yet."





18





Silas





Tempest laughed. "So you're going to have me everywhere in this hotel suite?"

I looked at her. "Did you think I was fucking joking?" I asked. "It's been seven years since I've seen you. I've got a lot of pent up shit to work out with you."

That was a goddamned understatement.

Besides, I was going back home, not sticking around in Vegas. Who the hell even knew where Tempest was going, or where she lived anymore? If I was going to work out all this angst with her, now was my only option.

"You're going to work it out by fucking me all over this hotel, then?" Tempest asked.

"That seems like as good of a plan as any," I said. "I told you I was going to take you all over here. I just haven't decided where the hell I want you."

The grand piano was just sitting there, taunting me.

So I walked over to it, still holding Tempest, and she glanced over her shoulder, laughing. "The piano?" she asked. “Really?”

“What?” I asked. “The top of it is down. I’m sure it can hold you.”

“Oh, just me, then?” she asked. “You’re not about to climb up there with me?”

“Well, let’s not be fucking ridiculous,” I said, setting her ass on the edge of the piano and pushing apart her thighs.

Tempest laughed, leaning forward, her hair spilling over her forehead and obscuring her eyes. “You’re the one putting my naked ass on top of a piano,” she said. “Who do you think you are, Christian what's-his-name?”

I pulled her forward so that her ass was on the edge, and bent down, touching my tongue to her. “You taste so fucking sweet, I can't help it,” I said. “And who the hell is Christian? I hope you're not talking about a boyfriend.”

She didn't answer, just let out a moan as I began to lick her slowly, carefully, my tongue exploring her before I focused on her clit. Tempest grasped the back of my head, pushed me tighter against her and I pulled back. "So?" I asked.

“So, what?” she murmured, her breath ragged.

“Who's this Christian guy?”

“You know. From that book, the BDSM one,” she said, and I covered her clit again just to tease her, sucking it into my mouth and eliciting another moan from her. I teased her entrance with my tongue, her taste sweet and salty at the same time. "I can't...remember...the name...right now."

“I was thinking that eating you out on the piano would be more like that movie, the one with the rich businessman and the prostitute.” I slid my finger inside her, stroking her gently while I returned my mouth to her clit.

When she spoke, her words were punctuated with gasps. “You remember.”

I looked up at her from between her thighs. “I remember you forced me to watch it,” I said, slipping a second finger inside her.

“Oh, God, yes,” she said, tossing her head back. “You...were...a….shit...I mean, a sport...about it.”

“I just wanted to get in your pants,” I said, returning my mouth to her clit.

She gripped me tighter, pressing me against her again, her moans coming more frequently now. My cock was rock hard. I don't know what the hell it was about this girl. But something about her still made me crazy.

"Just like now," she said, her words blurred together. "Shit...Silas."

I kept going, finding a rhythm with my fingers, stroking her while I pulled her clit into my mouth. "Oh, darlin', I'm not trying to get in your pants anymore," I said. "That's a done deal. I'm about make you come on my tongue, and then I'm going to ride you until you come again."

I slipped my fingers out and buried my face between her legs, tasting her sweetness. I fucked her with my tongue until she came, squeezing my head between her thighs as she leaned forward and clutched my head against her. When she finished, I could taste her on my lips, on my tongue.

But I didn't give her any time to recover. Instead, I slid her off the piano while she was still relaxed, her head against my neck, and deposited her on the nearest thing I could find, this long lounge chair covered in soft velvety-looking fabric.

Then I did what I'd promised. I slid my cock inside her wet *, still throbbing from her orgasm, and rode her until I couldn't hold out anymore, finally letting go inside her.

After, I pulled her tight against me, feeling the warmth of her body on mine, listening to the sound of her breathing in the stillness of the room. I wanted to stay like this, life on pause, lying here with her and pretending that there was something more to this than what it was.