Only for You (Lick #3)

by Naima Simone

  With a slow roll of his hips, he pushed deeper inside her, and her wicked, perfect tongue curled around the tip, drew on him, flicked his piercing, then sucked on it. Pleasure streaked up his spine like lightning. He jerked in pure reflex, driving more of himself inside her on a lust-thickened groan. Automatically, she stretched for him, taking more of his cock.

  “Do it again,” he murmured, pulling free of the wet haven of her mouth. She released him with a soft pop, and the sound stroked his flesh as sweetly as her tongue. His fingers tightened around the railing as he slid back in. She sucked him deep again, tugged on his apadravya again…sent him almost shooting off down her throat.

  Surrendering to the vicious need to fuck her mouth, he thrust between her lips. Over and over, filling that lush mouth full of his dick. He lowered one hand to her head, twisting his fingers in her hair. Not to hold her steady—she didn’t move, just let him use her mouth. No, he just needed to touch the dark strands, enjoy the sensual caress over his skin. He’d missed it. God, he’d missed it.

  “Tilt your chin up, Gabriella,” he instructed. “Give me your throat. Let me in, baby.” The endearment slipped from him, but the hot, wet clasp of her mouth didn’t allow him the room to regret it. Not when his cockhead bumped then slipped into the narrow opening of her throat. Not when the channel reflexively tightened around him, dragging an animalistic grunt from him. Electric pulses throbbed at the base of his spine, signaling an orgasm that would no doubt render him deaf, blind, and dumb. “Again. Again.”

  He’d been reduced to single words. Closing his eyes, he withdrew then pressed deeper, penetrating her throat, claiming more of the passageway. But after only one more stroke, he opened them again, unable to not stare at her lips stretched wide around his cock. Other than her pussy, he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight of him taking her. Of her wide, lilac gaze, gleaming with pleasure and trust, glistening with moisture.

  “That’s it,” he praised, bucking into her. He groaned, his fingers flexing in her hair, over the headboard. One more entry into her throat, one more glide of her tongue, one more squeeze of her muscles on his flesh, and…

  Orgasm nailed him in the back of the neck, propelling him forward. He shuddered, shook as ecstasy blasted through him with the force of a blowtorch. Cum burst out of his tip, spurting into her waiting mouth, and she swallowed every bit of him like he was the most treasured, the most delicious treat she’d ever tasted. And in that moment, he felt that way—more than wanted…cherished. Lo—

  With a low growl, he shook his head, his chest heaving. No, he admonished himself. Stay in the here, the now. With trembling fingers, he hurriedly untied the silk scarf from the railings and from Gabriella’s wrists. He hadn’t intended to release her, but at this moment, more than being buried inside her, he longed to have her hands on him. Touching him. Caressing his skin. Stroking his hair. He didn’t analyze the urge as he massaged her skin and arms, lowering them to her sides. She didn’t speak, but her gaze questioned him. He glanced away from those pretty eyes as well as the swollen, damp mouth that had just pleasured him like no other had ever been able to.

  With a renewed hunger twisting his gut, he moved off the bed and retrieved the butterfly vibrator, its remote, and lubricant off the bench. Setting the items on the bedside table, he climbed back on the bed and crouched between her legs. Tunneling his fingers in her hair, he lifted her head off the pillow to meet his mouth. There was no finesse in the kiss; it was wet, wild, raw, and hot as hell. Lips slid over lips, tongues dueled, teeth clacked. Her newly freed hands grabbed his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. He growled at the bite of those nails, feeling their sting in his dick, his balls.

  “Killian.” She whimpered his name, the first word she’d spoken since his instructions. Would he ever get tired of hearing those three syllables in her husky, temptress voice? Ever get used to the thrill of it, the warm slide that filled him like the sweetest honey? Hell no.

  He snatched the vibrator from the bedside table, and sitting back, slipped the bands and the butterfly’s body in place. Ridiculous jealousy of the little toy nestled up against her clit pricked him. Shifting backward, he dipped his head and shoulders and licked a path between her soaked folds, his nose nudging the vibrator, pressing it against her. Rumbling low in his throat, he returned for another taste, loving the tangy sweetness that coated his tongue. He’d done this. He’d drawn this out of her with every touch, every stroke. Yeah, he hummed, sipping at her. This was his reward.

  One last lick, and he rose over her, scattering kisses along her hips, up her belly, the center of her breasts. Unable to resist, he sucked each nipple, nipped them, before stretching over and grabbing a condom out of the drawer as well as the vibrator remote.

  Quickly, he sheathed his fully erect cock. Just one lick of her addictive flesh, and he’d gone hard as a steel pipe again. A flick of his thumb, and the butterfly buzzed to life, sending Gabriella’s hips dancing. He stared, mesmerized by the erotic display. With her head jammed against the pillow, her back arching, and the back of her hand pressed to her mouth, she was art. Living, breathing, carnal art. Beauty in motion.

  Cupping her hips, he slid his cock through her swollen sex, moaning as her plush flesh separated for him, embraced him.

  “Five years,” he murmured, nudging the vibrator with his tip. Anticipation, lust, and something needier, greedier clawed at him. “Five years I’ve…” Dreamed of this. Craved this. Once more that fissure creaked open. He couldn’t voice the words, but he could show her.

  One more stroke that covered him in her, and he pressed against her entrance, pushing into her. He watched as he sank into her, as she swallowed him. So pretty. So goddamn pretty.

  Only her beautiful face, tight with pleasure, superseded the sight.

  Snug, slick heat surrounded him, squeezed his dick in a grip that damn near bruised him, but still wasn’t tight enough. Small, animal-like whimpers escaped Gabriella, and each cry caressed his flesh. He thrust hard, groaning as her muscles fluttered around his length like tiny kisses. Holding still, he inhaled a harsh breath. Either that or explode, and he wasn’t finished. Half of him had yet to be buried inside her. He withdrew, and the top half of his cock glistened with the evidence of her arousal.

  “You with me, Gabriella?” he ground out. He waited for her nod, and when it came, he drove forward, tunneling through her slightly resistant flesh. Gritting his teeth, he pulsed his hips, claiming more and more of her. “Open up for me, baby,” he murmured. “I know that vibrator is getting you soaking wet, but press down on that little butterfly so my cock can be where it needs to be. Let me in. I need you…”

  Long, elegant fingers moved to the sex toy and a long, dark groan rumbled out of her. Her other hand dipped between her legs, skated over the several inches that remained outside of her. Circling her finger and thumb around his flesh, she rolled a caress over him, sending flames licking through his veins, heating his blood.

  “Goddamn,” he snarled, and plunged deep until his balls pressed against her. Finally. Oh God, finally. His control broke with a snap that resounded inside his head, and he took her like a man possessed. Like a man who had everything he’d ever desired, dreamed of within his grasp and was terrified of losing it.

  With a will he hadn’t been aware of owning, he withdrew, and her cry of denial almost had him driving back in, finishing them both off. But he wanted more from her. He needed to claim all of her.

  Turning her over on her stomach, he grabbed a pillow and slid it under her hips.

  “All of you, baby,” he murmured, pressing his chest to her back and nipping her shoulder. He thrust his cock between her ass cheeks and moaned, placing an openmouthed kiss on the skin he’d lightly bitten. Trailing his lips down her elegant spine, he rose, sliding his hand up the path his mouth had just travelled. He palmed the back of her head and gently pressed it. Her cheek rested on the pillow, her legs curled under her hips, ass in the air.

  Snagging the lu
be, he uncapped it and parted her cheeks, squeezing the gel onto her puckered flesh. “Shh,” he soothed when she shivered. Smearing the shiny cream on his fingers, he rimmed the entrance the butt plug had opened and prepared for him and slipped inside. The tiny ring of muscle resisted at first, and she went still. “Push back, Gabriella. Just like you did for the plug. Relax and push for me.”

  Leaning to the side, he picked up the remote and switched the vibrator to a higher level. A wail broke free of her, and he slid deeper inside her ass. Pulling back, he added another finger, stretching her as he worked her open.

  “Press on that butterfly for me, baby,” he rasped, notching his cock at her entrance. Stroking his hands up her ass, he held her apart, and slowly breached her. Gritting his teeth, he held his breath as his tip popped past the ring, and he sank inside that snug, smooth-as-glass channel.

  She shouldn’t be able to take him, but goddamn, she did. So sweetly. So perfectly. Growling, he rode her, watching his dick appear and disappear inside her. Over and over, he powered into her. And with each thrust, she backed into him, silently but hungrily pleading for each plunge.

  Electricity sizzled up his spine, down to the soles of his feet. Her screams of pleasure peppered the air, but he couldn’t come without her. Lowering his hand, he plunged three fingers into her drenched, spasming sex, hooking them and rubbing the smooth patch of flesh high in her core.

  Beneath him, she stiffened. Seized. Then broke. She clamped down on his fingers, milking them. That’s all it took for him. Feeling her pleasure had the orgasm he’d been holding back roaring through him with the force of a runaway train. Nailing him. Crashing into him. A seemingly endless orgasm gripped him, shook him, and he flooded the condom with his cum.

  Exhaustion tugged at him, inviting him to curl up against her spine, press a kiss to her shoulder, and sleep. Sighing, he carefully eased from her body, from the tempting haven of her embrace, and made a quick trip to the bathroom to take care of the condom and clean up. Slipping back onto the bed, he pulled the blanket over her and smoothed the tangled strands back from her face.

  He should’ve been tired, wiped out. But the more he studied the softness of her lilac eyes, the small, half smile that curved her mouth, a sense of urgency set up under his skin. He couldn’t deny what had just occurred between them. A part of him longed to label it just fantastic sex. But he could no longer live in that state of denial. What they’d shared had been more. It’d been deeper. Hotter. More visceral and…profound than sex. Sex had never made him so hungry, so wild, he was desperate to mark a woman. To brand himself on her body, her memory—her heart—that she couldn’t pry him loose. Sex didn’t shatter him, making him feel broken but also brand new. He’d had sex with multiple women. With Gabriella, it was more. Just as it’d always been.

  So how could she walk away from him? From them, so easily as if what they’d shared hadn’t mattered. As if he hadn’t mattered. Especially when she’d been his everything.

  He lowered to the pillow, stared at the ceiling, clenching his teeth to trap the question swirling in his head like a tornado. But with his guard weakened by her, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He had to finally know.

  “Why did you abandon me, Gabriella?”

  Chapter Seven

  “You already know about what I overheard,” Gabriella started, rubbing her damp palms down her denim-covered thighs. After Killian had asked the question that had rocked through her with the power of an earthquake, she’d requested he have her clothes delivered to her. The shirt and pants were flimsy armor, but sitting there, naked on the bed, while she revisited the past with him seemed too vulnerable, too exposed in a way being strapped to the spanking bench hadn’t made her feel. Especially since after she finished, she fully expected him to usher her ass right out of The Loft and Lick. She didn’t need a blinking neon sign to tell her their time together was over. She’d rather not have to wait any longer than necessary before her walk of shame.

  “I almost didn’t call you, you know,” she murmured, probably confusing him with her change of subject. She paced in front of the bed, arms wrapped around herself, although the temperature was perfect. Though she didn’t glance over at Killian, who leaned against the wall, every bit of her was tuned in to him. His utter stillness telegraphed his concentrated attention, and while minutes ago, that focus had shattered her with pleasure, now it sent a wave of sadness through her. “I knew you, Killian,” she whispered, all the desperation and fear for him from that night vibrating in her voice. “I knew if I told you about the double cross, nothing would have stopped you from going. And I was right. You were fiercely loyalty to Jamie Hughes and the O’Bannons, even though they didn’t deserve you. Especially Jamie.”

  Fury burned low in her belly at just the thought of the O’Bannon family’s boss. She lowered her arms, her fingers curling into fists. If the man stood in front of her right now, she’d junk punch him—with a 2 x 4.

  “He used you and all the other men who were loyal to him. Saw you as his property to corrupt and send out on jobs that damaged your soul time after time,” she continued, bitterness coating every word.

  “I could’ve said no, Gabriella,” Killian said, his voice quiet, solemn. “I wasn’t an innocent.”

  “No to the man who’d been giving you money since you were a kid to take care of your father? No to the man who gave you a job, a family? You were loyal to Jamie—to a fault.”

  “I wasn’t blind to who he was,” he argued. “Not by a long shot. He wasn’t some cross between a daddy and a god to me.”

  “Yet he had your unconditional loyalty all the same. Killian.” She briefly closed her eyes. “I’ve said all this before, but I panicked when you rushed out of the bar. I was twenty-one, scared, and completely in love with a man who, in my mind, was running headlong to his possible death. I loved you too much. I couldn’t lose you. So I called the police because it was the only thing I could think to do to save your life.” She held out her hands, palms up, as if pleading with him to understand her actions and mindset five years ago. “But even now, I wish I could look you in the eyes and tell you I would do it differently. But I don’t know if I would. If it would mean you standing here, alive, away from Jamie Hughes and the mob, I might make the same choice again.”

  Silence thundered in the room, deafening with all the unsaid regrets and accusations.

  Sighing, she continued. “I found out the next day that you’d been arrested. I went to the jail to explain everything, to beg for your forgiveness if necessary—”

  “What?”

  She stared as Killian slowly straightened from his lean against the wall. Muscle contracted and flexed under his taut skin as he stalked toward her. Wary, she instinctively stepped back, but paused. He wouldn’t hurt her—she believed that with her entire soul—and she wasn’t a coward. She’d admitted her actions had led them to this point; she’d face it.

  “What did you say?” he demanded in a dark, low rumble.

  Frowning, she said, “I went to the jail to ex—”

  “No, you didn’t. You never came to visit me.”

  Anger flared inside her. “Of course I did,” she insisted. “You should know—you turned me away. Sent the officer to tell me you didn’t want to see me. I came back and tried three more times. I even mailed you a letter. But you rejected each visit and didn’t write me back.”

  “That’s. Bullshit,” he ground out. “I never… Fuck.” The curse didn’t blast from him in a torrent of rage, but the soft explosion of sound. He turned away from her, thrusting both hands through his hair, fisting the dark strands. When he faced her again, stark lines bracketed his hard mouth, shadows darkened his hazel eyes. “They never told me you came. Probably intercepted my mail, too. All I can think of is either the cops wanted to keep me isolated to break me, or they just took pleasure in fucking with me. But I didn’t turn you away because I didn’t know you came.”

  She blinked. “Could they do that…”
/>   His harsh bark of laughter interrupted her question. “Damn right they could. Just like they sent me away on false charges.”

  Shaking her head, she whispered, “Would it have mattered? Would you have forgiven me?”

  For a long, painful moment, he didn’t reply. But when he did, his confession did nothing to ease the hurt. “I don’t know. Then, maybe not. But you disappeared. You didn’t give me a chance to find out. You left Boston…me. Why?”

  She averted her gaze, wrapping her arms around her once more.

  “Gabriella,” he growled.

  Worry and the need to completely unburden herself warred within her in an epic battle. Five years ago, fear had controlled her. Love had motivated her, but her fear had been instrumental in him being imprisoned for two years. She couldn’t continue hiding the truth from him. This Killian wasn’t the same man who’d collected debts on behalf of Jamie Hughes. This man was older, more mature, more in control. And still the man she loved. And love protected, it worried, it sacrificed, but it didn’t lie. Every second she kept the truth from him was another second she lied by omission.

  She couldn’t do that to him…not anymore. She had to believe in the man he’d become, and also trust he would make the right decisions. That he wouldn’t jeopardize everything he, Rion, and Sasha had worked so hard to build. That he wouldn’t throw it all away out of a misplaced sense of justice.

  “I didn’t recognize two of the men from that night, but the third I did right away. You’d been in the bar with him several times. It was,” she paused, mentally leaping over the cliff and depending on faith to keep her from smashing. “Michael Hughes.” An O’Bannon captain and Jamie Hughes’ son. “After you refused to see me—or I believed you didn’t want to—I had to think about my uncle’s safety. I was afraid Michael would figure out I’d been the one who’d ratted on him to you. If I left Boston, taking my secret with me, I thought Uncle Garrett would be safe, and so would I.”