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

“Shit, Autumn, I’m so sorry.” I scramble to the sink and wet a towel with warm water, all the while feeling guilty as sin.

When I turn around, she’s standing. As I wipe the towel over her breasts, she looks up at me, her mouth parted slightly. “Sorry for what?" she whispers.

I trace the towel slowly over her skin. "Sorry for… that."

"Are you?" she asks, her voice breathy. The way she speaks makes my cock jump again. "Because I'm not."

"Hell, Autumn." I don't know what to think about this woman. She's smart and funny and full of sass… and thirty seconds ago, she was kneeling in her kitchen while I came on her tits. "I just came all over you. That's not how I pictured things happening with you."

"Oh?" She wraps a hand around my cock. "Wow, you're still hard."

"Yeah. It's because of you."

“I’m sure,” she says, laughing. “Thanks for saying that.”

She thinks it’s because I’m young that I’m just rock hard all the time for any chick. I can see it in her eyes. How do I tell her that’s not the fucking story, that she’s absolutely the hottest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on?

“Don’t believe me?” I ask, running my palm over her breast. Her nipple is hard as a rock against me. I lean down to cover it with my mouth, swirling my tongue round and round until she’s moaning, little sounds that are primal, that make me want to bury my cock in her * right now. When I finally take my mouth away to look at her, I press my hard-on against her leg. "This is all because of you."

“I’m so wet,” she says, and when I reach between her legs I discover that’s a fucking understatement. She’s soaked, her * lips swollen to my touch.

"Your * is so ready for me," I say.

"Yes," she says. Then again: "Yes."

I’ve held out long enough. I grab a condom, unrolling it onto my length before coming back to her, pushing her against the kitchen counter where she’s standing, and bringing my mouth down on hers. “Why don’t I take you upstairs?”

"Just fuck me," she says. "Fuck me now, Luke."

I turn her around, the way she told me she wanted it, reaching for her hands and placing them on the counter while I trail mine over her arms and down her back until I reach her hips. "This is a gorgeous ass," I tell her, teasing her with my fingers until she’s moaning my name softly again.

When I pull her hips toward me, guiding my cock inside her, she exhales, making this long sound under her breath like this is everything she’s been waiting for. I fuck her, slowly at first, with long languid strokes, almost afraid I'm going to break her if I fuck her the way I want to. But then she encourages me when I grab the length of her hair, twisting it around my hand as I drive deeply into her. "Like that," she says, whimpering. "Yes.”

"Is that what you like?" I whisper, thrusting inside her. "This is what you've been wanting?"

"Yes," she moans. "Like that. Exactly like that."

I thrust deeply inside her until my balls are pressed up against her *, my hands firmly on her breasts, stroking her nipples. I order her to touch her clit, and she braces herself on the counter with one hand as she reaches between her legs, stroking herself, and I know she wants to come. I know she wants to, but I’m selfish and I want to stay inside her. I can’t help it.

"Oh my God, Luke," she moans.

"This is what you wanted?" I ask, fucking her harder. "I've been cooking dinner for you and you've been thinking about me bending you over in your own kitchen and taking you from behind?"

"Yes," she gasps. "Yes, yes."

I slap her ass cheek, listening to the crack against her flesh. "This * is so tight," I say. "So fucking tight and unsatisfied. Until now."

"Shit, Luke," she says. Her muscles clench down around my cock, but I'm not ready for her to come. I want her to hold off. I want to deny her. I want to fuck her until she's crying, begging for sweet release.

This is not the kind of sex I have, not with the boring-as-hell college chicks I fuck, the ones content to lie on their backs or bounce on top of my cock, oohing and ahhing because they think it’s sexy. Autumn is sexy. She’s bent over, struggling to hang on to her last shred of composure, struggling to not come completely undone, her * swollen around me, and I fucking love it. I can’t get enough of it.

"Do not fucking come," I say, my voice gruff. "Do you understand me? You don't come until I say you can come."

"Oh God," she moans, her tone ragged. "I can't. I don't know if I can wait."

Reaching up, I pinch her nipple between my fingers causing her to cry out, a mixture of a yelp and a moan. "You are going to wait," I tell her, my tone firm.

My voice is a hell of a lot firmer than it should be for someone who has his cock buried up to the hilt in the sweetest * he's ever felt, someone who's absolutely on the verge of coming and can barely hold back.

"Yes," she says, her hand moving more quickly between her legs as I fuck her deeply. "Please."

That word. Please.

"Please, what?" I ask.