Transcending Darkness

by Airicka Phoenix

  “You said I couldn’t back out once I said yes in the limo,” she reminded him.

  Killian nodded slowly. “I meant it, but I don’t force women either.”

  Something about that statement and the ferocity darkening his face calmed the unease snapping through her. His offer to let her get out coaxed her closer.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to leave.”

  To prove it, she slipped past him into the room.

  It didn’t surprise her to see the enormous bed taking up most of the space. But it did surprise her that there was very little else in the room. A set of French doors took up one wall. There were two doors on the other and a dresser against the wall next to the door. Two end tables with lamps flagged the bed. The room itself was bathed in a mute darkness held at bay solely by the white light pouring through the French doors. The rectangular patch of light spilled across the white fabric of the neatly made bed and her stomach twisted.

  “Take your clothes off and get on the bed,” he instructed, coming up behind her.

  But rather than touch her, he moved past her towards the glass doors. He unhooked the latch keeping them closed and let the panels swing open to the humid night. The movement rippled across the wide expense of his back. Even through the dress shirt, the toned muscles were painfully visible. He had an amazing build, she thought, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He had an amazing face and hands and eyes and … Christ, he was just all kinds of lust worthy. It was almost a shame that they had to meet that way. That he couldn’t be just some normal guy who walked into the diner one afternoon and struck up a conversation with her. But that would have been too easy and nothing about her life had been easy in years.

  Juliette was still studying him when he turned back to her. His black eyes roamed over her and she blinked.

  “Oh!”

  Blushing, she reached for the straps on her camisole. It was an act she’d done a million times before in the privacy of her own bedroom. Plus there had been that weekend with Stan, but it hadn’t been weird. She’d been with Stan a whole year before he saw her naked. Stripping for a stranger was a whole different experience. It didn’t help that he refused to look away. That his eyes were burning holes through her.

  Her hands trembled as the material was pulled down her arms and her breasts sprung free. He’d already seen them … hell, he’d seen all of her, yet she had to suppress the urge to cover herself when her nipples pulled tight, tugging at some invisible wire connected to her lower region. She left the material bunched around her waist as she picked at the zipper holding her skirt in place. The tongue tugged down without any effort and the circle of fabric fluttered to the floor in a halo around her ankles. Her top followed. She stepped out of both to stand before him in her heels and panties. Tentatively, she hooked her thumbs into the elastic of her panties.

  He was across the room and looming over her before the material could even pass the sharp edges of her hipbones. His large hands settled over hers, stilling the descent. Juliette tipped back her head in surprise. He met her gaze unwavering and sharp while sliding lean fingers under the elastic with hers. Together, they eased the material all the way to her knees. He released and it slipped down the rest of the way to catch at her ankles.

  She was naked.

  He wasn’t.

  The sensation was odd.

  He took her hand and helped her step out of her discarded panties. He kept holding her up while she kicked out of her shoes. Feet planted flat on the floor, she was forced to tip her head back drastically to peer up into his face.

  “On the bed,” he told her quietly.

  Swallowing audibly, Juliette made her way around him and started to the four poster bed with its handcrafted posts and satin sheets. It was the sort of bed she would have loved any other time.

  Behind her, Killian followed. The floorboards creaked beneath his slow strides. Each step closer sent her heart pattering just a little faster until it was a wild drum banging between her ears. She stopped when her knees bumped into the mattress. She didn’t dare turn, not even when she felt the prickle of his presence skim the full length of her spine.

  “How do you like it?” The question whispered hot along the slope of her shoulder.

  “Like it?” Her voice sounded weak and small even to her own ears.

  His lips skipped her shoulder and Juliette jumped.

  “To be fucked,” he clarified against the spot connecting her neck to her shoulder.

  Juliette wondered if he could feel just how hard her pulse was beating against the soft skin of her throat. It was practically trying to tear free.

  “Um…” She licked her dry lips. “I’m not picky. They’re all nice.”

  His mouth stopped. It lifted off her neck, leaving the spot feeling chilled. She felt him draw back. Then she was being turned to face him.

  There was silent laughter dancing in his eyes when she dared herself to peek up and his mouth did that twitching thing, like he was fighting not to let them curve, which she didn’t understand.

  “They’re nice?” he mimicked.

  Feigning experience was a lot harder than she had anticipated. She probably should have put more enthusiasm in her statement.

  “I … I just want you inside me,” she blurted, hoping to God he didn’t hear the quiver in her voice.

  He was still biting back his grin when he spoke. “Get on your back.”

  Gingerly, Juliette lowered herself down on the cool sheets and watched as he stayed looming over her. Shadows concealed his eyes, but she could feel the path of their attention working lazily up and down the hills and valleys of her body. The silent scrutiny worked along her skin like phantom fingers. Heat rippled through her, teasing her nipples and reigniting the fire he’d lit back in the limo. It was intensified when he began to undress, when his fingers began the progression down the front of his dress shirt, undoing each button in their path. The fabric was shrugged off wide shoulders and pitched carelessly aside. He wore nothing under and the play of shadows across smooth ivory made her shift restlessly. It pooled in the hallows and indents of his hard chest and the neat cut of his stomach. Toned muscle roped and shifted along strong arms and she was momentarily distracted by the thought of having them close around her. It was the jingle of his belt buckle and the hiss of his zipper that brought her back.

  No underwear.

  Dark trousers opened to lean hips and the fat head of his cock. The thick shaft jutted out from a neat circle of coarse, black hair that wove a fine path up the flat surface of his pelvis to his navel. The pants were tossed aside and he stood before her as naked as she was.

  “Like what you see?” One hand closed around his erection. He stroked it deliberately, all the while studying her.

  It was a task not to blush or look away. It took a lot of reminding herself she was supposed to know about this stuff. But she kept his gaze and steeled herself to respond.

  “Yes.”

  The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he joined her. Automatically, her knees parted, already expecting him to climb over her. Instead, he stayed kneeling between them, peering over her splayed body. Firm hands rested on her hips, holding her down as he shifted closer.

  “I promised you something, didn’t I?” he said evenly. “Back in the limo. What was it?”

  Body thrumming in that way only he seemed to be able to make it, Juliette fought not to buck and wiggle and demand he just end the suffering already.

  “You promised to make me squirt,” she whispered, breathless.

  “Aye.” His hands slid inward, dipping into her pelvis and stopping when his thumbs could peel apart her lips. “But are you still wet?”

  She was. She knew she was. She could feel the thick puddle of arousal collecting against her opening, begging for him to make use of it.

  “Yes!”

  Rather than check like she wanted him to, his hands fell away and he leaned over her for the light next to the bed. It flared on with
a deft flick of his fingers, flooding part of the room, the bed and them. Juliette winced at the sudden invasion of illumination. She blinked a few times before turning her eyes on the man leaning over her.

  She’d been wrong. He wasn’t gorgeous. He was something so beyond such a simple term. He was breathtaking.

  Propped above her on his hands, dark tendrils slipped over his brow and fell recklessly over his eyes. God, his eyes. They were just so unimaginably powerful, like the sky during a dangerous storm. Peering into them from a distance, she hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he could make her feel with only a look. Up close, she felt small and helpless … and so fucking turned on.

  He pulled back until he was kneeling once more. His gaze went down the length of her to her mound.

  “Open her for me,” he ordered. “And stay open until I tell you otherwise.”

  Her hands moved without a shred of hesitation. They shot between her thighs and parted her lips. Her clit poked out, swollen and slick.

  Killian cocked his head to the side and studied the tiny muscle throbbing for his attention through heavily hooded eyes. One hand lifted off the sheets. Four fingertips glided down the inside of her thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. She shivered.

  He didn’t notice. His whole focus trained on the feather light caress of his finger over her clit. It was barely a whisper. Barely made contact. Yet Juliette cried out. Her hips bucked off the mattress in desperation that went ignored as Killian repeated the motion. Each time was slower, lighter. She could scarcely feel the contact, but each one rocked her closer to the orgasm she could feel snapping inside her.

  “Please…” she whined, too far gone in the haze to care about how pathetic she sounded.

  Killian raised his head and his eyes met hers. His finger slipped away from the sliver of air just above her button and traveled down to her opening. It pushed in just to the tip and Juliette sobbed as the tight ring suckled greedily at the invader, willing it in deeper. But he didn’t.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  God, how could he not know?

  “That … that thing you did in the limo,” she panted. “With your fingers. Please.”

  His lashes lowered, cutting her off from the black flames leaping across his eyes. His finger withdrew and went back to terrorizing her clit, pushing her right to the edge before pulling back. It was a sort of psychological torture to see just how much she could take before she lost her fucking mind. It was more effective than water boarding or electrocution. She was ready to tell him anything, do anything to make it stop. She would have given him her first born if it meant easing the unbearable pang. Beneath her, the sheets were soaked and growing wetter with every passing second he toyed with her.

  “Do you want me inside you yet?”

  “Yes!” she sobbed, close to tears. “God, please! I can’t take anymore.”

  His response was to take his cock in hand and stroke it while she writhed beneath him. The fat, purple head was leaking and the sight had her legs widening even further.

  “Put your hands up,” he said. “Palms flat against the headboard.”

  Nerves trembling uncontrollably, she raised her arms and flattened her palms against the headboard. The motion thrust out her breasts.

  “Don’t take them down,” he warned, bending at the waist and taking a nipple in his mouth.

  He sucked lightly while palming his erection. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t already inside her when he was rock hard, but he seemed to be waiting for something.

  That something became evident when he drew back and reached for the end table. She watched as the light caught the silver foil he pulled out from inside the drawer. The magnificent appendage jutting from the center of his body was wrapped tight in rubber.

  Now, she thought, anticipation making her dizzy. Now he would finally quench the fire.

  She didn’t get his cock.

  Two blunt fingers worked a lazy path down the quivering planes of her stomach, circled her navel before descending further. Juliette barely caught the whine working its way up her throat. It slammed into the teeth she clamped down hard on her bottom lip. Beneath his touch, her hips writhed against the sheets. The muscles of her thighs ached from holding them open for so long, but she didn’t care.

  The tip of his middle finger dipped between her lips and traced a teasing O around her clit. The caress was so close to where she wanted him and yet he deliberately kept away. Anger and frustration tore a growl from her. The sound drew his eyes upwards to her face. The right corner of his mouth actually lifted in a half grin.

  “Patience,” he said, his voice dripping with silent laughter.

  “I have been patient!” she snapped. “Christ, just fuck me already!”

  The left corner lifted and his mouth stretched into the first smile she’d seen him give and it was overshadowed by the fact that she wanted to hit him.

  Eyes still on her face, his finger slipped downward to skim her opening. The gesture immediately made her forget her anger. All remnants of it washed away with her gasp as he broke through and pushed all the way inside. A second finger joined the first and Juliette swore colorfully. Her heels dug into the mattress, lifting her hips into his palm as he pumped his fingers slowly. But that wasn’t what she wanted!

  “Do it!” she hissed.

  “What?”

  Breathing hard, she glowered at him down the length of her sweat drenched and flushed body. “That thing with your fingers!”

  One, thick eyebrow lifted in innocent questioning. “This?”

  He grazed against the spot, just a light skim that sent sparks flashing behind the eyes she squeezed shut tight.

  “Yes! Yes! That. Fuck!”

  She no longer had any control over her body. It was a mindless mess of desire rutting and thrashing for every little thing he saw fit to bestow her.

  To her surprise, he worked the spot without driving her out of her mind first. His thrusts grew faster, harder. His palm slapped into her clit with stinging pain, but it was perfect.

  Juliette came with a vicious scream of someone under some violent torture. It muffled the screech of her nails raking into the wood above her head and the rustle of sheets as her entire body convulsed with a ferocity that couldn’t possibly be natural. The world around her shattered and shimmered and exploded and still, he continued to destroy her with only two fingers.

  It felt like hours before the shrieking between her ears dimmed to a simmering roar. Hours before she could let her toes uncurl against the roped sheets. She had no sense in her head to think or move. All she could do was lie there in a limp, sated haze while her body continued to shudder every so often with some inner electric current that refused to quit.

  “Killian…” His name was the first thing she could get her tongue to work around.

  The fingers eased out from inside her and she whimpered. She shivered and shut her eyes as exhaustion threatened to take her under.

  “That’s what good girls get when they are patient,” she vaguely heard him murmur.

  She could only muster a moan in response.

  Something sharp and blunt closed around her nipple and tugged. Juliette jolted awake with a cry of pain. Her chin jerked down to find Killian’s dark head moving over her breast. It lifted just enough so their eyes met.

  “Not done yet,” he told her.

  “So tired,” she whispered.

  He lowered his mouth and nuzzled the nipple he’d assaulted, making it tingle and her moan. Her hands instinctively went to the back of his skull, cradling him to her as he worked her body back awake. Against her side, his hand drifted along the curve of her waist to rest against her hip. It eased under and she was lifted to him. His pelvis aligned with hers and she was gifted with the full weight of his cock settling against her mound. His head lifted and hovered over hers. Most of his weight was supported by the forearm he planted on the pillow next to her head, but the majority of it was on her, moldin
g her into the mattress. She found that she didn’t mind it. There was something incredibly comfortable about it.

  Juliette smiled up at him. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she’d just had the most incredible, earth shattering climax of her life, but whatever it was, she felt an overwhelming sense of contentment for the first time in forever and it refused to stay contained.

  “Did I squirt?” she asked, not really sure when everything down there felt wet and tingly.

  Killian made a sound that could have been a snort or a chuckle. “No, but we still have time.”

  She burst out laughing and, without thinking, lifted her head and kissed him.

  Immediately, she knew she’d done something wrong when he jerked back. Hot, intense eyes bore down into hers with a look of stunned anger. His entire body had gone rigid.

  Juliette shrank back against the pillow. “I’m sorry. Is that not allowed—?”

  His response was a snarl of rage before his mouth slammed down over hers, violent and starving. Fingers closed into her hair, dragging her head back as he consumed her. His body shifted against hers, opening her even wider to his hard hips. The arm beneath her tightened and dragged her down to him as he pushed up against her. His cock beat into her clit with every downward descent, getting harder and crueler with every second.

  He broke the kiss when her pained whimper hummed between them. He began to draw back, but Juliette grabbed him, yanked him back down.

  “Don’t stop!” she panted, bringing his mouth back to hers.

  His growl vibrated against her swollen lips, making them tingle and part for the invasion of his tongue. The arm beneath her pulled out and the hand settled her writhing hips, forcing her against the mattress. He bit her lip sharply when she whined in protest.

  “I need to be inside you!”

  He gave her no time to brace when his cock drove home deep inside her with a single, powerful thrust.

  Juliette gave a cry that had nothing to do with pleasure as he tore through the thin membrane protecting her innocence. The bulging length of him filled her with a pressure that brought tears to her eyes and drew blood from the skin of his back where her nails raked.