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

I declare it. I stake my goddamn claim on this girl's *. I've never made a declaration like that.

She lets out a laugh that immediately turns to a moan when I roll my fingers over her clit. Gripping my biceps, she gasps before she speaks. "You can't say it's yours."

"I touched it," I say. "I'm touching it now. Do I need to lick it to claim it as mine?"

"Oh my God." She breathes the words low in her throat.

My cock strains against the zipper of my jeans. Shit, I've never had a bigger case of blue balls in my life. I'm like the fucking world record holder for blue balls. "Is that a yes?"

Lily slides her palm over the front of my jeans. "I want to –"

"Sorry, cupcake."

She whimpers again. "Killian…"

"How long?" I ask, sliding my fingers from her because I want to pull off her clothes. She exhales heavily as an expression of disappointment flits across her face.

"How long what?" The look on her face tells me she knows exactly what I'm asking.

"How long has it been?" My hands find the sides of her jeans, pausing because I'm trying not to be a fucking animal and just tear her clothes off her, which is exactly what I want to do. My fingers pinch the fabric, my hands practically shaking because of my restraint.

"Three years," she whispers. Her gaze darts to the side as she avoids looking at me. "Three years ago, I had a one-night stand. It was … not very good. I haven't had a whole lot of… "

Her voice cracks, and I stand there unmoving as she meets my gaze again. "Tell me."

She inhales deeply, pausing for what seems like an eternity before she exhales heavily. "I haven't had a whole lot of sex, okay? That's embarrassing as hell. That one night stand and before that, my – " She pauses. "My husband."

My heart stops. "You're married."

"No. Oh God, no. I'm not. I was married. He's dead."

"Oh." I don't know what else to say.

"It was a long time ago. He wasn't a good man, as it turned out." She looks at me with an expression on her face that says the conversation about the dead husband is over. I recognize that look, because it's the same one I give my brothers when they start bombarding me with questions. Lily slides her hands down to my jeans and pulls me hard against her. "I don't want to talk about my dead husband right now."

"I don't want to talk at all." I tug on the sides of her jeans, pulling them down over her hips.

"Killian, I –"

"I'm not going to fuck you." I lean close to her and whisper the words in her ear, and she tilts her head to the side, letting out a soft moan. "But I am going to make you come again. I'm going to rip off these jeans and put my tongue between your legs and taste you. I'm going to have my fill of your sweet * and feel you come on my face. Then you're going to go home tonight and lie in bed and touch yourself while you replay it in your head."

She whimpers loudly this time as I drop to my knees, pulling her jeans down as I go. I yank the pants off of her, one leg and then the other, and she looks down at me with hooded eyes. "No more jeans," I growl as I toss them to the side. "Wear a skirt to work tomorrow."

"You're very… demanding," she murmurs, but that last word turns into a moan when I bring my face between her legs, inhaling her scent. She runs her hands over my head, and whimpers.

"You have no idea," I tell her as I run my fingertips over the front of her cotton panties. Her wetness is visible on the fabric, and the fact that she's soaked through her panties makes me want to pick her up, push her up against the wall right here in the kitchen, and plunge my cock inside her. "You're wet."

"I know," she whispers.

I push the fabric to the side, my fingertips lightly stroking her * lips. "Do you want my mouth on you?"

She exhales heavily. "Oh, God."

I bring my mouth close to her * so she can feel my breath. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," she breathes.

God, I love hearing her say yes. I don't bother pulling her panties off; instead, I rip the corner of the fabric, first one side and then the other, and let them drop to the floor.

"You tore my panties," she whispers.

"I know. You should stop wearing panties, too."





18





Lily





He kisses the inside of my thigh, his beard brushing against my skin and sending a shiver up my spine. When he looks up from between my legs, his dark eyes practically smolder with lust. He's so close to my * that when he pauses to kiss the other side of my thigh, teasing me, the space between his lips and where I want him to be is agonizing.