Above her, Killian had gone rigid. His eyes were wide with stunned realization as he stared down at her. His heart slammed into hers. The two mirrored each other perfectly in the fraught silence.
“You’re a virgin,” he panted, his tone accusatory.
“I’m sorry…”
He snapped out a curse that made her flinch. His nostrils flared as he glowered down at her. He swore again and gripped her tighter when she tried to pull away.
“Too late for that, love,” he said tightly. “The damage is done. I’m inside you.”
As though to prove it, he shifted his hips. The uncomfortable pang made Juliette groan and tighten her hold on his shoulders. She gritted her teeth and struggled to block it out, but every thrust, no matter how slow or careful felt like he was tearing her in two. Each one grated against her tender flesh and she fought not to let herself cry.
Face as tight as the corded muscles of his arms trembling on either side of her, Killian exhaled through his nose. He drew back just enough to reach for the end table. Juliette watched him as he yanked open the drawer and rummaged inside. He returned with a white bottle in hand. He flicked the cap open with his thumb and rose higher to bring the bottle between their bodies.
Juliette watched as it was tipped and clear liquid drizzled over her mound. The unexpected coolness made her jump as it ran over her clit to drench his cock.
“What—?”
“Hold still,” he told her when she started to shift.
The top was snapped back into place and the bottle was pitched aside. His hand returned to her hip. He drew back and she winced at the slight burn. But as the lube began to work its way inside her with every gradual thrust, the friction became fluid and intense.
“Better?” he asked when she gasped.
It was. It was better than she had ever imagined. The hard feel of him filling her slick walls, the teasing little bursts of pleasurable pain that exploded every time he hit the end, it was incredible.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
His grip tightened. His movement quickened. Juliette panted as a new burn began to build deep inside her. Her fingers threaded through his hair, gripping him close as the familiar surge of euphoria began to build.
“Killian…”
Without a word, one hand slipped between their bodies and rested flat against her pelvis. His thumb found the hardened little muscle slick with arousal and lubrication and stroked. Each flick was followed by a thrust of his hips. The combination had her back arching and her toes curling. She squeezed her eyes shut tight as an overwhelming burst of ecstasy rushed over her. His name hitched out of her, again and again, growing louder and more desperate with every second that passed and she teetered on that colorful brink.
“Come on, love,” he coaxed, his own voice ragged. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
With a sound between a sob and a wail, Juliette fell. It was the sort of collision that pulled every nerve ending in her body into a knot. She might have cried out, but the sound was lost in a buzz of aftershock that dulled everything but the implosion of her very soul. Killian kept the steady pace, never in a hurry as she gripped at him with her walls and sucked him in deeper. She was vaguely aware of his grunt, of the bruising clamp of his fingers. Then he collapsed over her while the world continued to spin.
Neither moved for several minutes. They lay in a tangled knot of damp limbs and pulsing sexes. She could feel the clench of her pussy every time his embedded cock twitched inside her. She could feel the crack of his heart clapping in time with hers. His weight was a hot, solid blanket draped over her, molding her possessively in the confines of his fierce embrace. He cradled her to him even when he pulled free and she whimpered her protest into the corded muscle of his shoulder.
“You lied to me,” he said into the unsteady pulse at her throat.
Juliette closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Carefully, he pulled out of her arms and left the bed. She watched him move with confidence to the door across the room on the left. A light was switched on before he disappeared inside and shut the door. A moment later, water hitting basin filled the silence. A toilet flushed. The water was shut off, then the lights and he was walking towards her once more, still naked, with a white cloth in hand.
Killian returned to her side of the bed and took a seat next to her hip. His free hand parted her sore thighs and filled the space in between with the damp square of fabric. The icy coldness of it made her squeak and jolt, but he remained firmly pressed against her tender sex.
“You should’ve told me,” he muttered. “I would’ve taken better care.”
Juliette studied the man gingerly cleaning her with a gentleness she would never have expected.
“Would you have?”
He shot her a glance. “No. I would’ve taken you home. I don’t bed children.”
Juliette blinked. “I’m not a child! I’m twenty three.”
His eyes narrowed. “And you’re still a virgin?” He shook his head. “What the hell were you waiting for?”
“I wasn’t waiting for anything. I just never had anyone I wanted to give myself to before.”
Not entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie either. She had wanted to give it to Stan. After that, she never had time for sex and it had never been an issue.
“Christ,” was all he said.
“It wasn’t really that bad, was it?”
His gaze stayed on her face for much longer this time. “No, but that isn’t the point,” he said at last. “I could have hurt you.”
“You were wonderful,” she assured him softly.
He looked away. “Again, not the point.”
“Thank you,” she murmured for lack of anything better.
“For hurting you? You’re welcome.”
She grabbed his wrist when he rose to his feet. “You didn’t hurt me. It really was amazing.”
He searched her face and settled on her lips before letting his gaze roam down the length of her splayed across his bed. The appendage hanging between his legs hardened and Juliette didn’t miss it. Her skin prickled with heat and awareness. Her breasts swelled as her nipples tightened.
Christ, she wanted him again.
“Get dressed.”
It was stupid, but she hadn’t expected that. Judging from the dark heat in his eyes to the fully hardened cock at his midsection, she had honestly believed he would join her again. Instead, he was turning away from her.
Disappointment and an irrational twang of hurt built up inside her chest as she bit her lip and sat up. The chill that swept through the room made her painfully aware of her nakedness and she reached for the rumpled sheets. The fabric rustled too loudly in the silence as she drew it around herself in some weird attempt at protecting the rest of her tattered dignity.
“Can I use your washroom first?” she asked.
Without looking at her, he nodded before moving towards the open terrace.
Gripping the sheets tight, Juliette made her way to the bathroom and slipped inside.
It was as lavish as she would have expected of such a grand place. Ivory and gold gleamed under sharp lights, drenching the inlaid Jacuzzi built into one wall, a glass shower in the other and a counter with two sinks taking up the third. It was five times the size of hers. It even had a bench wedged between the Jacuzzi and the sinks. There was a trash bin next to the toilet, a row of folded towels on a rack next to the shower and an assortment of man products cluttered neatly on the counter. But it was the plush bathroom mat that really sold her. She could practically burrow into the thing and sleep.
Still wondering why anyone needed a bathroom that big, she moved to the sink. She washed up the best she could before leaving the room to find Killian at the veranda once more. He stood stark naked with both hands curled around the wrought iron railing. Tension pulled at the bulging muscles along his back, making them ripple with his frustration. She wondered what he was thinking about. She wondered if she should
say something. Not sure what the protocol was for moments like that, she went to her clothes instead. She scooped them up off the floor and straightened. She jumped to find Killian standing right behind her, beautiful, naked, and hard. The latter had her heart leaping. Her core muscles clenched and she had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from making a sound. She clutched her clothes to her chest in some pathetic attempt to muffle the erratic cracks of her heart.
“Hi,” she whispered for lack of anything better.
Killian didn’t move. He stayed directly in her path, forcing her to tilt her chin and meet the exasperation and lust crackling across his face. Her body gave a shiver of longing that it had no right to considering she could feel the tenderness pulsing between her legs. But the twang wasn’t all pain, she realized with a start. There was a familiar pulse of want there that surprised her.
He was suddenly on her. His mouth cut viciously against hers as she was lifted and dumped unceremoniously on the bed once more. The sheets were torn away, leaving her naked and vulnerable before the wolf. She barely managed a gasp when he forced apart her thighs and filled them with his hips.
“Tell me to stop!” he snarled at her.
Hurting with the force of her need for him, Juliette wound her legs around his ribs and locked her ankles in place at his back.
“No.” She licked her lips. “Please don’t.”
Chapter 5
The silence seemed somehow impossibly too loud as seconds passed. In the space next to him, Juliette lay with her face mashed into the pillow. Her back rose and fell but not with the same intensity as it had only moments before. The smooth curve of her spine glistened with sweat and held the remnants of their love making.
Sex, Killian reminded himself. He didn’t make love. He didn’t do gentle. Making love implied emotions and he did not possess that ability. He didn’t have the luxury. Love and family were a liability he couldn’t afford. It was why he never chose virgins. Why the women he took to his bed always had experience and knew what to expect.
Honestly, he wasn’t sure he would have stopped even if he had known about Juliette. Being inside her, buried in all that wet heat had been irresistible and addictive … and dangerous, like leaping off a bridge with only a piece of thread keeping him from hitting the jagged rocks below. It had been an unimaginable thrill, one he knew he needed to step away from before he forgot why he had rules. He had already broken too many of them for her. But no more. She needed to get away from him.
Yet he made no move to make it happen. He lay there, propped on his elbow, transfixed by the shape of Juliette’s silhouette half concealed beneath the sheets. Her hair was a tangled riot tumbling across the pillow, the color of pale yellow under the light of the lamp. He knew from memory that the rich strands smelled of wildflowers and felt like silk. But it was nothing compared to her skin. The miles of pale, supple flesh had felt like satin gliding beneath his fingers. He had especially loved the feel of her wrapped around him as he drove into her with the urgency of a wild animal. And she had let him. God, she had begged for more. Again and again, until she had passed out from exhaustion.
Against his will, his fingertips ghosted the smooth slant, following the ridges of her spine from nape to tailbone. The woman made a sound between a moan and a sigh and shifted. One long, toned leg slipped out from beneath the sheets. Killian studied the limb and the triangle of fabric barely concealing her ass and second leg. He already knew what lay beneath; he had been thorough in his consumption of her. Nevertheless, he tore away the hindrance and took his fill of her naked flesh before he never saw it again.
Beautiful. Absolute perfection. Every inch of her stirred his blood and reawakened his cock for another round. Having her so near, so completely vulnerable to the animal already hard for her was a new sort of torture he’d never felt before. Sure there had been women who he had lusted for, but a roll or two between the sheets and that hunger was always sated. There had yet to be a woman he had wanted a third or fourth time.
But he wanted Juliette. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to keep her tied to the bed until his body no longer burned for her. He wanted to feel her bow and writhe and shatter beneath him until every ounce of his need for her was sated. God, he wanted to tear into her and consume her until there was nothing left. He wanted to own and mark every inch of that flawless body so that there was never a doubt of who she belonged to. He wanted to do things to her, dark and dirty things that would horrify her if she ever knew. What the hell was it about her that made the beast in him so crazy?
“Killian?” As though awakened by the mere power of his thoughts, Juliette shifted. The sheets rustled beneath her as she lifted her head and searched for him. Pools of murky brown fixed on his face. Hers softened into a sweet, shy smile that made it all the harder to let go. “Hi.”
The knot in his stomach tightened. His jaw creaked. The frustration built into an unbearable thrum. It must have shown on his face because the smile on hers slipped. She drew away, pulling the sheets up with her.
“What?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”
Most of the women he took to bed knew the rules. They knew when it was time to get their things and depart without being asked. Juliette wasn’t one of them and yet that wasn’t the actual problem. The problem was that he didn’t want her to leave. Not yet. But he knew it wouldn’t be one more time or another six more times. Something about her was making it impossible to get enough and that alone sent the red flags waving.
“It’s time to go,” he blurted with a bit more heat then was necessary. “Your things will be by the door. Frank will call you a cab.”
It was impossible to pinpoint an exact emotion; so many flickered across her face in rapid succession. But the one that kicked him in the throat was the hurt and confusion that crinkled the skin between dainty eyebrows. A small hand lifted and pushed coils of tangled hair out of her eyes as she tried to process what he was saying. It didn’t take very long.
“Oh,” she whispered finally. “Right. Sorry.”
He made no move to stop her when she scrambled off the bed with the sheets and searched for her clothes. She dressed quickly before turning to the bed. She wet her swollen lips and adjusted the hem of her skirt to cover those beautiful legs. Her eyes never touched on him, he noted. They clung to the space just above his head when she spoke.
“Thank you for everything,” she murmured quietly. “I’ll see myself out.”
One more time, the beast pleaded. Just one more.
But she was already gone. The doorway stood empty and dark. In the silence that followed her departure, he could just hear the soft clip of footsteps as she hurried away. He knew she had reached the corridor leading to the stairs when the sound stopped and then there was nothing but his own breathing.
Unfurling himself from the bed, Killian got to his feet. He yanked on his trousers and dress shirt, not bothering to tuck in or button either. Aside from his security, no one else lived in the three story estate. He could walk around naked for all the difference it would have made.
The place held the chill of predawn. Killian wandered the hallways as he too often did when his insomnia was at its worst. That night was no exception and it had nothing to do with Juliette and everything to do with the nightmares. There were too many and they hounded him like dogs. There were pills, he knew. Medication to dull the senses for a few hours and knock him out cold. He had tried a few, but it was a loss of control he couldn’t allow himself. Not in his line of work when his senses were all he had keeping him alive. So he wandered an estate that had become his prison too early in life. He followed the ghosts of his past through the empty corridors and listened to his lost childhood echo through every room.
Despite all the money and power, it was a solitary existence. It was a self-proclaimed isolation and it was how he liked it. People had a tendency of dying around him and he already had too many deaths on his hands. He knew he would wind up killing Juliette if he didn’t keep her away.
At the top of the backstairs, Killian paused. His hand tightened around the cold iron banister until the knuckles blazed a harsh white in the semi darkness. He stared at the pool of black at the bottom with a numb sort of trepidation, a fear that reared its head every time the idea of being forever alone gripped him. It wasn’t ideal. Who in their right mind wanted to die alone? But how could he allow an innocent into his world knowing he would ultimately destroy them? How could he let himself love when he knew it would eventually get torn away? He knew he could easily fall for someone like Juliette. They might not have shared more than a few steamy hours together, but he could see a tomorrow with her. He could also see her broken and bloody in his arms and that nearly made him double over as pain wrenched through him.
Why are you even thinking about this? The voice in his head demanded viciously. One night with the girl and you’re hearing church bells?
Not exactly church bells, he thought absently as he started downward, his fingers moving unsteadily over the buttons of his clothes, fastening them and tucking his top into the waistband of his trousers. But it did make him want things he had no business wanting.
At the bottom, he turned right and headed in the direction of the conservatory. The chamber of glass and steel had been his mother’s favorite place, aside from the gardens. Every happy memory circled around that room, memories of kneeling next to her while she filled the place with every bloom imaginable, memories of her stories. She was forever telling him stories of the impossible. His father would tease her about filling Killian’s head with nonsense, but she would swat him away and continue with her tales.
“The world is already an ugly place,” Killian had overheard her telling his father once. “Our son deserves to know happiness.”
His father had shook his head, but he’d been smiling. He would have given her anything. Even as a child, Killian had known his parents were the center of each other’s universes. It was in every glance, in every smile and caress. They looked at each other the way his mother used to tell him about in her stories, like there was no oxygen in the world until the other was in the same room. And he had wanted that for himself. He had wanted to love like that.
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