“Look at this,” he said, running a finger through my folds. “You’re dripping, all for me.”
I bucked my hips, moaned.
He slid one finger inside of me, slow and deep.
I cried out.
Then another.
His thumb rubbed slow circles on my clit while his fingers curled inside me. I was shaking, panting, begging without words. I couldn’t think, could only feel, every nerve burned.
Then he pulled his fingers out and licked them clean.
“Sweet,” he said. “addictive.”
He unzipped his pants and freed himself.
His cock stood thick and angry between us, veins pulsing, tip flushed, pre-cum leaking from the top.
“You’re going to take it,” he said. “all of it, every inch, every time I thrust I want you to remember that no one else will ever own this pussy. It’s mine.”
He aligned himself. One push. Just the tip.
I cried out.
“Too much?” he asked.
I shook my head. “More.”
He slid in deeper.
I moaned louder.
“More… More…”
Then he slammed the rest of the way in.
I screamed. The fullness, the stretch, it was everything, too much, way too perfect.
He stayed still, buried deep, teeth gritted.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re tight, so fucking tight, you were made for me.”
Then he moved. It was hard and deep.
Every thrust of his sent electricity through me. My nails dug into his back, my legs wrapped around his hips, my body clung to his as if I had waited for this all my life.
“I dreamed about this,” he panted. “Jerking off like a fucking loser while you slept down the hall, wanting to fuck you until you screamed my name.”
“Killian,” I moaned.
He slammed harder.
“Louder.”
“Killian!”
He groaned. “That’s it, let them hear, let them know you’re mine now.”
He reached between us and rubbed my clit fast.
I shattered.
My orgasm hit hard and fast. My body tensed, my eyes rolled, I screamed his name again, louder, rawer.
He kept moving, chasing his own release.
Then he poured his seed inside of me and collapsed beside me. He pulled me close. My head rested on his chest, our breaths tangled, his hand stroked my back slowly.
His lips brushed my hair. His eyes widened as if he just realized what he did.
He froze.
Then slowly, his gaze dropped, and he saw it.
The blood. a small, unmistakable stain on the sheet between my thighs.
Killian’s entire body locked up.
His breath hitched. His eyes went wide as if someone had just punched the air out of his lungs. and then, he ripped himself away from me as if my touch had become poison.
“Shit…” he whispered, backing away. “Oh fuck. No***no…”
He stood up so fast the bed jolted beneath me. His hand flew through his hair in one panicked, ragged motion. His face twisted with guilt, shame, disbelief.
“You were a virgin?” he rasped. His voice completely hollow. “You***you were a fucking virgin?”
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
My throat felt tight. My body still trembled from everything he’d just made me feel. But none of that mattered now. Not when I saw the way he looked at me, like he had done something unforgivable.
“God. Liana…” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have***fuck. I shouldn’t have touched you. I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
He took another step back. His hand dragged down his face, raw and shaking.
“This was a mistake.” He said it more to himself than to me. “a stupid, selfish mistake. I lost control. I shouldn’t have…”
He stopped talking. His eyes flicked back to the blood. Then, to me. I had pulled the blanket up to my chest, holding it tight as if it could somehow hold me together.
Then, he did something that shattered me more than his words.
He pulled out his wallet.
Fingers shaking, he took out a thick wad of cash. and without even looking at me, without hesitating, he threw it onto the bed.
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