by Nichole Rose
"He r-ran the red light," she says, hiccupping. "I tried to get out of the way, but there was a car in front of me so I couldn't move fast enough." Her honey-colored eyes meet mine. "I was so scared I'd never get to see you again."
"That'll never happen," I promise, touching my mouth to hers. "You're mine now, baby girl. Nothing is allowed to take you from me. I won't allow it."
She stares at me for a moment, and then her lips quirk up into a tremulous smile. "I almost believe you could do it, that you could keep everything from touching me. Killian, I…"
And I know what she's going to say. I see it blazing in her eyes.
"Not here," I rasp, placing my fingers against her lips.
She studies me for a moment and then nods her understanding.
After the police officer gets her statement, I send her back to the office to wait for me while I deal with her car. It's more than likely going to be a complete loss. The other driver, a father of four, is fortunate that she reacted as quick as she did to get out of the way, or it would have been a lot worse. He was doing well over the speed limit, trying to get to school to pick up a sick kid.
The fact that he was rushing to get his kid is the only thing that saved him from my wrath. That and the fact that Liberty is okay. She's shaken up, but otherwise unharmed. She may be a little sore tomorrow, but I had the paramedics check her out and they said she's going to be just fine.
I might not be though. It's going to be decades before I'm ready to let her out of my sight. And I already know that isn't going to work for her. Which means I'm going to be a miserable son of a bitch every time she leaves the house. I'll find a way to deal with it though. Whatever it takes.
By the time I've got the car towed, it's close to three. I catch a ride back to the office with the wrecker and then head inside.
"She's in the office," Kathy says, not even waiting for me to ask.
"Thanks." I jerk my chin in a nod and head that way, ready to get my girl and get her home for the day. No point in staying for the rest of the day when I already know I'm not going to get a fucking thing done. I just want to get her home and get in her bed. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.
I stop in the doorway and stare at her. Anyone else would be too shaken up to get anything done, but not Liberty. She's behind her desk, hard at work on her magic code. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, her eyes narrowed as she types away.
My gaze drifts from her to the old duffle bag beside her desk. I'm not sure what's in it, but she was adamant that she needed it. I figure she'll tell me about it when she's ready, but I'm curious.
"Dammit," she mutters under her breath, glaring at her screen. "Stupid not-magic code."
I chuckle, drawing her eyes. They light up when they land on me, which makes my dick rock hard in about two seconds flat. Jesus. I hope she never stops looking at me like that.
"You're back," she says.
"I am." I push away from the door and prowl toward her. "Do you want to finish what you're working on, or do you want to go home, baby girl?"
A frown crosses her face, crinkling her brows. "What do you want to do?"
"Whatever you want."
She huffs at me, clearly not liking that response. "Tell me."
"I want to take you home, put you in bed, and keep you there until I forget the way you screamed my name," I admit, stopping beside her desk.
She swallows hard, leaning her head back to look at me. "I screamed for you because I knew you would find me and make everything better," she whispers. "You were the only thing I wanted when he hit me."
"Jesus." I clench my hands into fists, trying to keep myself from ripping her out of the chair and fucking her against the wall. Can't do that though. She needs soft and gentle right now.
"I also screamed for you because I thought I'd never…" She pauses for a second and then reaches out for me.
I take her invitation, picking her up out of her chair to take her place. I pull her down with me, cuddling her up against my chest. It takes a little maneuvering before we're both comfortable, but I could sit on a bed of lava and feel no pain so long as she was in my lap.
She sighs her contentment and rests her head against my shoulder for a moment before she pulls back to meet my gaze. "I screamed your name because I thought I'd never get to tell you that I love you," she says, her eyes shining with moisture. "I thought I was going to die without you knowing how I feel about you. I love you, Killian. So much."
"I know you do, baby girl," I murmur, my voice husky with emotion. Jesus. I've gone from hell to heaven in the space of a single afternoon. "Just been waiting for you to realize it too."
"I knew." She bites her lip. "I don't know how to let people love me or let myself be loved, but I want to change that. I didn't mean what I said this morning."
"You were right."
"No, I wasn't." She shakes her head. "I panicked and said something I didn't mean. I love the way you are with me. You know what I need, and you just give it to me. I know that you'll take care of me because you always do. Even when I wouldn't put myself first, you put me first. I've never had that before," she whispers, tears pooling in her eyes. "I love it so much, and I was afraid if we moved too fast, you might regret being with me. Everyone leaves, and I don't want you to leave me too."
"Never," I growl, wiping her tears away with my thumbs.
"I forgot one important thing though, Killian."
"What thing?"
She wiggles around until we're sharing the same sliver of air. Her forehead touches mine, her eyes fluttering like they want to close. She keeps them open though, watching me intently.
"What thing?" I ask again, locking my hands into place on the arms of the chair to keep myself from stripping her naked. She's wrecking me and she doesn't even have a clue. I think I've been waiting for her my entire life, waiting to find her and love her. Now that she's mine, I'm constantly torn between fucking her raw and taking care of her. Every word from her lips sends the scale tipping wildly, first in one direction and then the other.
"That I'll regret it if I don't move in with you."
My entire body goes stock still. I even stop breathing for a second as her confession works its way through me, blowing like a hot breeze through my veins. I lean back so I can see her face and read her expression. Certainty shines in her honey-eyes. There's no doubt there, no fear. She means it.
I really am in heaven.
"Going to kiss you now," I mutter.
"Wait!" She throws her hand up, placing it on my chest.
It halts me in my tracks.
"I need to show you something first," she says and then points at her bag. "Can you hand me that, please?"
I hesitate for a moment, really wanting to kiss the shit out of her, but then curiosity wins out. I reach down and snag the bag out of the floor. There's nowhere to put it, so I set it on the desk. She wiggles around until I reluctantly stand her up.
"You should open this," she says, holding the bag out to me.
I cock my head to the side, growing more curious by the minute. She doesn't say anything though, just waits for me to take it from her. I sit it in my lap and tug the zipper down. I'm not sure what I expected, but clothes wasn't at the top of the list.
"Clothes?"
"Not those," she says, pulling them out and setting them to the side. "Well, those are important too, but it's the other stuff in there I want you to see."
I glance from her back to the bag. I pull out an old photo album, a stuffed rabbit that's so old the fur has started to turn yellow, and then a small shadow box with a Purple Heart in it. Underneath the medal is a small plaque.
"Oliver D. Connor," I read, glancing up at her.
"My dad." She reaches out to touch the edge of the box. "It's his medal."
"Didn't know he was a recipient," I murmur.
"Yeah. He received it after his men were ambushed on a mission. He was shot, but he carried one of his men to safety, refusing to lea
ve him behind. He was stubborn like that." A ghost of a smile twists at her lips. "When I realized that they were taking me away from him, I stole it from his room to take with me. It meant so much to him. I thought if I took it, it meant he would find me."
"Jesus," I whisper.
"I've had it packed in that bag since the day I went into foster care. Everything in there, I've kept in there all this time. I wanted to be ready to go if he ever came for me." She swallows hard, staring at the shadow box. "Even after they told me he'd died, I kept it packed."
"Why?"
She swallows again. "At first, I did it because I didn't believe he was really gone. And then I left it packed so it would always be ready when it was time for me to move to the next home. I told myself that I'd unpack it when I found the place I was meant to be, but I never found that place." She swipes at her eyes, brushing away the tears trembling in her lashes. "I've lived in my house for over a year, but I still haven't unpacked it."
She's killing me. Breaking my heart one little piece at a time. I hate that she grew up that way, never feeling like she had a home or a place where she belonged.
"I want to unpack it now, Killian," she whispers. "Because I've finally found where I belong."
"Where, baby girl?" I rasp, reaching for her to draw her closer.
"With you." She smiles at me. "I belong with you. Wherever you go, that's where I belong. That's my home because you're there."
Fuck.
I swallow convulsively and quickly place everything back in the old bag, moving quickly. Once it's all packed away again, including the clothes she has clutched to her chest, I set it carefully aside and then pull her down onto my lap.
My lips meet hers as I pour my soul into that kiss, into her. It's all hers anyway. I set out to possess her, to make her my own. Instead, she made me hers. My heart beats for her now, beats because of her. If I'm her home, she's my heaven, my own little piece of paradise.
And I'm never giving it up.
Chapter Nine
Liberty
"What do you think?" I ask Killian, stepping back to run a critical eye over my handiwork. It's not half bad. At least I don't think so. I'm not sure what he thinks.
He steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I melt into his embrace, letting him hold me as he examines the room, quietly taking it all in.
"Looks good," he finally grunts, which makes me smile.
I glance around the bedroom again, relieved that he likes all the changes. When he brought me home two weeks ago, I realized that I'm not the only one who's been packed up and ready to move on. All of his stuff was still in boxes, sitting untouched.
We've spent the last two weeks changing that. When we aren't at work, we're here, fixing this place up. I just put the finishing touches on the master suite, turning it into our own little paradise. My painting hangs on the wall over my bed because he said it's more comfortable than his. We moved his bedroom furniture to the guest bedroom but kept the couch he had in here.
Our stuff is all mixed together now, making this place our home. And I love it so much. The house is a beautiful Spanish Colonial situated near the northwestern shore of Lake Murray. The big iron fence surrounding the property makes it feel a little like we're in a world of our own out here. It's quiet and peaceful without being too isolated. It's the best of both worlds.
"I need to see one thing," he mutters, tilting my head to place a kiss on the side of my throat. He steers me toward the bed, licking and biting me.
"Killian," I moan, already knowing what he's after. He's said the same thing about virtually every room in the house right before stripping me naked to make love to me. He hasn't found a room he doesn't like seeing me naked in.
"You know the rule," he growls, swatting me on the ass. "Clothes off and legs spread, baby girl."
I moan, heat unfurling inside me. He helps strip me down, running his rough hands all over my body as he goes. By the time I'm naked, I'm already soaked and trembling with desire. Somehow, he always leaves me this way. I don't think I'll ever grow tired of how badly I want him or how much I love when he's inside me.
He was gentle right after the accident, afraid he'd hurt me. He's not afraid now.
He picks me up and drops me on the bed, staring at my pussy while he undresses. I watch him just as intently, staring shamelessly as he reveals his body to me. He's built like a warrior, all those muscles ready for war.
He wraps his fist around his cock, jerking himself off with rough pulls.
I moan his name, reaching out for him.
"You want my cock?" he asks, prowling toward me.
"Yes. Please, Killian. Please. I need it."
He likes it when I beg him. It drives him crazy, makes his control slip a little. I love that I do that to him. That I can unravel him with a few simple words. Precum wells from the slit of his cock. He curses, stalking toward me.
I expect him to crawl up on the bed with me, but he doesn't. He grabs my ankles and pulls me toward him, until my ass is hanging off the side of the bed and I'm clutching at the covers to keep myself from tumbling into the floor.
I don't have to worry about it though. I already know he isn't going to let me fall.
He kneels beside the bed, running his lips up the inside of my leg. His stubble scratches at my skin, making my flesh pebble. I moan his name, reaching out to touch him.
He smacks my pussy.
"Killian!" I jolt upward as pleasure shoots through me.
"You know you aren't allowed to touch me yet," he growls. "Not until I eat you."
He never lets me get my hands on him too soon, no matter how hard I try. And I do try. I fight him every step of the way sometimes, both because I really want to touch him and because he loves it when I fight him. Nothing makes him harder than when I fight to get my hands on him. I love it too. He fucks me so hard when he finally gets inside me.
Most of the time, I give him what he wants because taking care of me makes him happy. But when we're alone, I make him work for it. That naughty side he woke up inside me that first day has only grown in the last couple of weeks. He's teaching me so much about myself, waking parts of me I didn't even know existed, desires I've never had before.
He's dirty and rough and so damn incredible.
He smacks my pussy again, making me moan his name.
"Dirty little girl," he growls before yanking me onto his mouth. He doesn't take it slow, but dives right in, eating me like he hasn't had a taste of me in weeks instead of a mere few hours. He grunts and growls against my center, using his lips and teeth and tongue to turn me into a frenzy of need. He spreads my cheeks, burying his face between them.
I cry out his name, writhing as he eats me there too. I'm not sure which of us loves it more. It feels so damn good. Everything he does to me feels like heaven. My body is littered with his marks. Mine are scored into his skin.
He thrusts his tongue into my pussy, fucking me with it until I'm right on the edge.
"Killian," I groan in protest when he backs off right before I slip over the edge.
He slides me back onto the bed and then flips me over onto my stomach. His hand comes down hard against my ass. I tilt it higher, rocking back for more. My nipples drag across the bedspread, making me moan.
"Up on your hands and knees, Liberty," he growls, yanking my ass up higher.
I scramble to obey, desperate to feel him inside me again. Not that he ever really leaves. When he slips from my body, he always leaves a little bit of himself behind. I spend my days coated in his come. My Marine is filthy, but I love every minute of it.
He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed. Once he has me where he wants me, I feel him spreading my cheeks apart again.
"Goddamn," he growls. "These little pink holes look good in this room, Liberty. You gonna keep them on display for me?"
"Y-yes."
"Good." He reaches around me to grab a pillow, slipping it underneath me. "Lay
on this and spread your cheeks for me. I want to look at what's mine while I'm nine deep."
Oh my goodness.
My cheeks heat at the thought of him staring at me down there, but I leap to obey anyway. Whatever gets him inside me faster.
I'm barely in place, my cheek to the pillow while I spread my cheeks open for him with my hands, when his cock nudges at my entrance. He taps it against my clit, slicking it up with the juices I feel wetting my thighs. And then he's thrusting deep.
I cry out his name, rocking forward with the force of his thrust. My hands almost slip, but I manage to keep them where they are, holding myself open for his licentious gaze. I don't even have to see his face to know he's staring at me there. I can feel the heat of his gaze.
"Fuck," he grunts, pounding into me hard and fast. His hips crash into my ass, digging my fingers into my flesh. Every thrust has my nipples dragging across the bed, and the pillow sliding from beneath my face.
I moan his name, already climbing toward the peak. He gets me there so easily. In two weeks, he's learned more about my body and what I like than I ever knew. He knows how to get me off in a matter of minutes. That's okay though because I never go alone. When I come, he always goes over with me. He loves and hates it in turns.
"Tell me," he orders me.
"I love you."
"Again."
"I love you!"
"Fuck. Yeah, you do." He spits on my asshole, slicking it up. And then his hand is there, his thumb pressing against the tight ring of muscle…pressing into me. He fingers my ass while he fucks me.
I writhe beneath him, calling out his name as my body overheats and my inner walls clench around him, trying to pull him in even deeper.
"Going to claim you here as soon as I get you pregnant," he tells me, replacing his thumb with his fingers. "Make sure this hole knows who it belongs to like the rest of them do."
