A moan slips from my lips. Yes, this is what I need. To show Michael it’s not me that’s broken. That it’s not me who’s cold and dead. It’s him. The wet sounds of Killian’s fingers fucking me beneath the dress Michael forced on me would beobscene, if it wasn’t a sweet victory. And sweet revenge at the same time. I feel the orgasm building. I press my mouth against Killian’s ear. “Your fingers feel incredible, but I need to come on your cock.”
He slides his fingers out of me, his eyes glittering and a smirk tugging at his beautiful mouth. “You need me to fuck you, Vixen?” he whispers, painting my lips with my own arousal.
I dart my tongue out and lick my bottom lip as I nod.
His eyes darken. “Take what you need then.” He lifts his middle finger, the one still coated with my wetness, and flips Michael off.
I huff out a dark laugh. I guess I’m not the only one being petty.
Michael is cursing and coughing now. I barely register the wordsslutandcunt.
Because everything falls away except Killian as I readjust my legs to straddle him. I no longer feel the cold bite of the basement air, the tart smell of mildew and blood, or hear anything but the sounds of our breath and our moans as we kiss and I reach between us, finding him hard as granite.
Our kiss deepens as I unzip his cargo pants and release him. The heat of his tongue tangling with mine and his thick, pulsing cock in my hand makes me drip down my thigh.
“Go on, love. I’m yours to take. Everything I have, everything I am is yours. My cock, my soul, my heart. It’s fuckin’ yours.” He holds the back of my neck in a crushing grip as his gaze bores into me. “And you, Sam, are mine.”
“Oh, God, Killian,” I choke on my emotions as I lift up, move my underwear to the side and guide him to my opening. I hold his gaze as I slowly lower myself onto his cock. His piecedhead stretches me, fills me, sends pulses of desire deep into my womb.
By the time he’s fully seated inside me, my legs are trembling and we’re both breathing heavy. He bites my earlobe, licks it and then whispers, “I love you, too.” Then he grips my hips, lifts me up and slams me back down on his cock.
A cry rips from my throat as the mix of pain and pleasure short circuits my brain.
He pushes his hips upward, hitting my cervix with the piercing, and I almost come from the sensation. But then he holds still, letting me take the lead.
I dig my nails into his bare shoulders as I roll my hips, relishing the feel of being filled by him. Grinding my clit against his pelvic bone, I do exactly what he said and take what I need. Alternating grinding and sliding myself up and down on his shaft, I keep my gaze locked with his until I see the strain on his face as his jaw locks, his skin flushes. The fact he’s on the edge has my inner walls spasming.
But then a trickle of shame creeps in, and it brings the reality of what I’m doing with it. I bury my face in Killian’s neck as I become aware of Michael behind me, watching me in this vulnerable position and the urge to disappear replaces the pleasure.
But only for a moment because I force myself to lean back and find Killian’s eyes. In them I see the gleam of love, of worship, of absolute devotion. It immediately washes away the shame, replacing it with a powerful, absolute knowing… I deserve happiness.
His hand reaches up and grips my hair in his fist as the other one reaches between us and rubs tight circles over my swollen clit. “Come for me, Vixen.”
I throw my head back and bite back a scream as the orgasm blows my soul out of my body. I’m nothing but pulsing nerve endings and sweet, sweet oblivion, pricks of light dotting my vision.
With one hard thrust, Killian finds his own release, erupting inside me as I’m still spasming around him. Fisting my hair, he pulls me to his mouth and kisses me hard and possessively. Eventually the kisses soften into slow strokes of our tongues and sweet sighs as we both come back to the room.
I pull back and take him in through hooded eyes. The emotions I’m feeling are reflected back at me in his gaze as he says, “Ready to finish this?”
“Ready,” I say. What I don’t say, and what I hope he can read in my eyes, is that I’m so ready for this ending, so we can have a new beginning. Together.
I stand and let him tuck himself back in before I move away. I don’t look at Michael, though. I don’t need to. He’s no longer a part of my story. He’s already a ghost that may haunt my thoughts once in a while, but I will not let him stay there for long.
Killian retrieves his shirt from the floor and pulls it back on. Then he walks over and picks up the gun from where he laid it on the table. In one swift motion, he chambers a round and turns to me. “Why don’t you go get Rona. I’ll be up in a second, and we’ll head to the hospital.”
I step into him, reach up and place my hand over his heart. “Thank you. For saving me. And for trusting me with this.” I pat his chest.
He lays his hand over mine and squeezes. He nods and then whispers, “Go on.”
Michael is yelling something as I’m walking out the door, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of paying attention. I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear the gunshot. I pause, close my eyes and feel my shoulders fall. It’s over.
We’re free.
Chapter 52
Samantha
One month later
