He hums, leaning into my neck, biting and kissing. He rubs harder, and I go frantic, fucking myself on the phallus with reckless abandon while trying to push into his hand.
“Such a greedy kitten.” He rubs harder, granting me just the touch I need. “Be a good kitten and come for your master.”
“Yes, yes, yes.” My words morph into a scream as the orgasm explodes through me. It takes over every little piece of my body,tensing my legs, curling my toes, making me buck and jerk with violent shudders. Red colors go off in my brain, snuffing out every last thought, and blurry spots dance in my vision.
I collapse into Killian, hot and exhausted. A limp pile of bones.
Gently, he lifts me off the phallus and carries me with him to sit on his lap on the couch.
“You’re not worried about your pants?” I ask into his neck, feeling the stickiness of lube and my own desire between my legs.
“It’s just pants,” he murmurs.
“You wouldn’t have said that two months ago.”
“I wouldn’t,” he agrees. “I also wouldn’t have kept you here.”
The words hang heavy between us for a while, but then they drift off, the peace of our newfound intimacy wrapping around us.
“I still hate you for what you did. When I think about it. But…” I heave a deep breath to steady myself for what I’m about to confess, because it feels wrong. But it’s also how I feel. And the rightness of this moment is undeniable. “I’m also, on some warped level, glad you did it. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here. Does that make sense?”
He nods against me. “I know what you mean. I feel the same conflicting emotions.”
We don’t say much more after that. Killian carries me to the bathroom, where he strips us both naked and washes us in the big shower. Then he carries me to bed and wraps me up in his arms beneath the comforter that carries his scent.
I can’t help wriggling my hips a little, being this close to him, and it doesn’t take long before his cock starts growing again.
“What about you?” I ask. “I’m not sure I have much more in me, but I don’t want to leave you wanting. Maybe I could just—”
“Shh.” He presses a finger to my lips. “How about we say this is my punishment for… e-everything.”
I turn around in his arms. “I don’t want to punish you. I don’t want you to punish yourself. Not ever.”
“Hmm. How about we simply say that I don’t mind suffering a little to take care of you?”
“I like that,” I say with a smile, then, “I likeyou.”
Killian leans closer at those words, and I feel something happening in him as he presses his forehead to mine. He stiffens a little, his breaths becoming ragged. But his voice is steady and clear when he wraps a hand around my nape and says, “I love you.”
I gasp. The breath sticks in my throat, and before I can release it and decide whether I want to reciprocate those words, Killian covers my mouth with his other hand.
“Don’t say it back. Not until you’re truly ready and confident that you mean it. Okay?”
I nod against his hand, and he slowly releases my mouth again, but keeps our foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling in the small space between our mouths.
“You have all the time in the world. I’ll wait for you however long it takes. Just know that, while I wait, I love you. That won’t change. Some part of me always has. I think that’s why I turned against you. I couldn’t stand loving you. It scared me too much.”
I press both my hands to his chest, breathing hard for a moment before I say, “I know. Part of me always knew. That’s why I kept hoping. Smiling.”
“I hated how you always smiled at me,” he whispers and leans closer, just enough to brush his lips against mine. “I was so jealous that you had somehow found a way to stay happy. That you kept thinking there was something good in me when all I wanted to do was lock that part up tight.”
“I’m glad I did.”
“Me too.” He presses his lips to mine, tender and full of a promise to stay that way. “Good night, kitten.” He adjusts me against him, cradling my head with a gentleness that goes straight to my starving heart, which doesn’t feel as starved anymore. His arm around my waist stays firmly locked onto me, and when I wake up in the morning, it’s still there, holding me tight as if he never let go.
63
The Tail
