And I come. The second I speak the words, I crash over the edge, my orgasm overtaking me like a wave, so intense it threatens to drown me. I'm barely aware when he takes away his fingers. I vaguely hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and then he's over me, pressing the tip of his cock against my entrance.
My muscles throbbing, I arch my hips, aching for him to be inside me. The exquisite pleasure of having him inside me is nearly too much to take in my current state. I’m too on-edge, my entire body turned on by his touch. "Oh, hell, Lily." He looks down at me, his brow furrowed as he thrusts inside me. "You just feel so damn good. So tight. So wet."
"Yes." It's the only word I can think of because at this point my brain has officially turned to mush and maybe leaked out of my ears. The only thing I have the capacity to think about is Killian.
Killian's cock inside me. The rhythmic thrusting as he fucks me. Killian's hands pushing mine above my head, fingers interlocked as he pins me down and begins to fuck me harder, deeper. Killian's eyes on mine as he murmurs my name, asking me if I want him to keep going, how I want him to fuck me.
Harder, I beg. Harder. Deeper. More, more, more.
"I don't want to hurt you," he says. I don't tell him that it's impossible, that I'm so turned on, so wet, there's no way he can hurt me. I just wrap my legs around him, pulling him tighter against me, wanting as much of him as I can get.
He brings me higher and higher, until I’m so hot, so swollen around him that I can feel him pulsing inside me. I can feel his cock throbbing, his dick so hard he must be near exploding.
And I’m near exploding. I’m practically delirious. Drunk on him, drunk on sex, drunk on lust. My head is spinning.
“Look at me, Lily,” he orders when my eyes close lightly as I near the cliff, close to diving over the edge. “I want to see you come. I want to see you.”
His eyes say he wants everything from me, and the mere idea sends me hurtling toward orgasm. I cry out, pulling him against me and burying my face in his shoulder as he thrusts deeply inside me – once, twice, three times – groaning my name as he comes. I cling to him as my orgasm envelopes me, more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before.
We stay just like that, with him buried inside me for a while, the only noise in the room the sound of our ragged breath. He brings his lips to my forehead, then to my temple and the side of my cheek, before lightly pressing them to my lips. “That was…”
“I know.” I don’t have any other words.
27
Killian
I’m lying face-up in Lily’s bed, her head on my chest, my hand on the small of her back. I’m in a bed with lavender sheets and a fluffy white bedspread and approximately three hundred pillows now scattered on the floor.
And I’m cuddling.
I exhale a low laugh under my breath. If any of my brothers found out about this, they’d never let me hear the end of it. I can only imagine the shit I’d get, especially from Elias and Silas.
Then Lily lets out a sigh, snuggling up against me, and I think maybe my brothers are onto something. I run my hand over her ass. Yeah, this cuddling thing might not be so bad.
“What are you thinking, caveman?” Lily asks. She rolls onto her side, propping her head up with her hand.
Aw, hell. Like I’m going to tell her I was thinking about cuddling. My gaze drifts along her naked body. “You know what I’m thinking.”
She blushes. I’ve taken her three times tonight, and she’s blushing because I’m looking at her naked. “I love mushrooms,” she says.
“Uh. . . okay. Is that a euphemism?”
Lily snorts. “I’m telling you something about me,” she explains. She clears her throat. “And I hate the smell of cut grass.”
“Who hates the smell of cut grass?” I ask. “That’s like saying you hate the smell of rain.”
“Rain doesn’t smell.”
“Of course it does. What’s wrong with you? Do you have some kind of olfactory impairment?”
She looks at me, wrinkling her nose. “Clearly, something is wrong with me. My judgment is obviously impaired.”
“Clever. I was hoping for some more witty rep-ar-tee, and it looks like I got it.”
She laughs. “See? There you go. Now you know stuff about me.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You love mushrooms and hate the smell of cut grass. Careful, don’t spill your guts. I’d hate to know all of your secrets so soon.”
“Okay, Mr. I-Hate-Brussels-Sprouts, what do you want to know?” Lily rolls onto her stomach, putting her perfect curvy ass on display, and my cock stirs in response.
I want to know about her dead husband. I want to know what made him a not-so-good guy. I want to know if she’s in love with a ghost. I want to know why she came to West Bend. I want to know what her life was like before. I don’t know why I want to know those things about her, but I do.
Except I don’t ask any of those questions.
She turns her head to the side, looking at me expectantly. “What do you want to know?” she repeats.
I trail my fingers down the middle of her back along the dimples that lead to her ass. “I have a very personal question.”
She looks at me, wariness evident. “A very personal question,” she echoes, her voice flat.
“That’s right.”