Dragging a hand through my hair, I follow him and stop in the doorway. “Have you slept there?” His access card allows him to practice there at all hours, but the place is not made for overnight stays.
He shrugs, and I draw a heavy sigh. I’m tempted to reprimand him for not responding to my texts, but I’m not in the mood for a fight. I’m just relieved he’s home. “Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He sends me an annoyed scowl, and I know his shields are back up. Killian is back to his usual cold self.
“If you ever want to talk about what happened yesterday—”
“I need to get some sleep,” he cuts me off with an annoyed tone and grabs the door handle, forcing me back as he pushes it closed.
The hope that had sparked fades as I go back downstairs, take Jenna in my arms, and spend another fruitless hour chasing sleep.
Finally, I decide it’s useless and get out of bed, pad barefoot into the kitchen, and put on a pot of coffee. The dripping of the machine is almost comforting, and so is the prospect of a kick of caffeine in my sleep-deprived system.
Once the machine beeps, I pour myself a mug and bring it to my office, where the soft glow of multiple monitors welcomes me. Settling into my desk chair, I take a slow sip, savoring the rich flavor before pulling up my trading dashboard to check on the overnight markets.
An hour and a few caffeine-fueled trades later, I return to the kitchen for more coffee, but pause just inside the living room as I find Killian crowding Jenna against the kitchen counter.
“Good morning, princess,” he says, caging her in with his hands pressed to the counter on either side of her. “Or should I say, ass slut?”
I’m about to speak up and tell him off, but Jenna’s reaction surprises me. Instead of letting her anxiety get the better of her, she shoves angrily at his hand and moves out of his reach. “Go away, Killian, I’m not in the mood.”
“Feisty today, are we?” He slides up behind her again, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. “I like that. Makes it that much sweeter when I put you in your place and make you kiss the ground at my feet.”
“Shut up.”
“You know, it is going to happen.”
“Well, not right now, so get out of my way.” She shoves at him again, but this time, he doesn’t let her go.
Banding his arm around her waist, he pulls her to him so hard a gust of wind escapes her. “Not right now, no. But soon. Very soon, Dad will send you upstairs, and you’ll be all mine to do with whatever I please. There’s no avoiding it.” A cruel edge creeps into his voice. “Unless you want to go back to that shitty existence you used to call a life, cleaning other people’s dirt, being all alone.”
“Stop it, Killian, just stop.” Her voice rises as she pushes at his arm, but he doesn’t budge, and I notice how her breathing gets more labored. But it’s not because of her fighting. It’s desire. Being trapped turns her on—I have experienced it firsthand many times. But I didn’t expect it to be the same with Killian.
“I bet you’re already fantasizing about how I’ll shove my cock deep inside your ass, stretching you to take my full size. How much it will hurt, but also how good it will feel.”
“I’m not,” she denies, and I’m tempted to make a mental note and call her out on lying later, but I think I’ll let this one pass.
She seems to be in genuine distress as she keeps fighting, now whimpering with the effort. I’m once again about to intervene when Killian grabs her by the back of the neck and shoves her down over the counter. But when he gathers her flailing arms on her back, I pause. Because once again, Jenna surprises me. Instead of succumbing to the panic that’s about to get her, she capitulates. It’s like a flick of a switch. Her entire body softens, her struggles weakening into a few last jerks before she goes slack over the counter, her chest the only part moving as desire deepens her breaths.
Killian doesn’t say anything as he releases her neck, lifts her skirt, and trails a finger over her white panties, up the valleyof her crack. He switches direction, moving back down, finding her tight hole and rubbing it slowly through the fabric. Jenna twitches a few times—a quiet protest—but it’s half-hearted. Her brain might not want it, but her body wants a taste of that pleasure he made her feel five years ago. And again a week ago.
A twinge of jealousy stirs inside me. Because he has already set his mark on her—a mark that has been cemented by the trauma he caused her. I thought that night broke her, but now I realize it just put her life on pause. Being here, confronting it in a safe environment, knowing that I’ll protect her, has made her wake up and come alive again. She might hate that she wants him, but there’s no doubt that she does as she gives in to his touch, pleasure revealing itself in the small movements of her hips.
He keeps going for a while, just rubbing slowly, pushing his finger against her covered opening to give her the slight sensation of something going inside her.
I feel like I’m intruding on something private as I keep watching from a distance. They both seem stuck in a trance—caught in the intense energy between them. But I am mesmerized as well and can’t seem to move.
Killian trails his hand lower, and Jenna parts her legs slightly to let him access her pussy. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I think he’s slipping a finger into her panties and touching her judging from his response.
“You’re so fucking wet, Jenna. It’s disgusting.”
She lets out a broken whimper, but the humiliation only feeds her lust, her sharp breaths of pleasure deepening.
My cock grows achingly hard as I think about all the ways I want to humiliate her.
As if thinking the exact same things, Killian does one of them: he moves his hand from between her legs and lifts it to her mouth. “Taste,” he says, holding his finger right before her lips.
Jenna doesn’t even protest. She only hesitates, then opens just enough for Killian to push his finger inside and let her taste her own desire.
