Page 62 of Killian's Vengeance

He slid his arm around my shoulders and walked us toward the exit.

“Why did you guys knock on the door? Why didn’t you break it down?” Their entrance into Martin’s loft was a bit anticlimactic considering his mercenary past.

Killian snorted. “I’m flattered that you think I’m a literal superhero, but I can’t actually walk through steel and brick.”

“What about the windows?”

He frowned down at me. “What? Like flinging myself through a set of glass windows on the seventh floor of a building?”

When he said it like that… “I guess that’s what I was thinking,” I murmured, feeling foolish.

He gave me a squeeze and laughed. “You’ve watched too many Die Hard movies. Easy is best. But to be clear, if that had been our only option, I would have done just that.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

He leaned his forehead against mine. “I would have done a hell of a lot more than that to get you back.”

“Really?” My voice sounded hoarse, probably due to the golf ball sized lump in it.

“Absolutely.”

Epilogue

Killian

Six months Later

The Red Room was packed tonight. I stared down at Willa’s blonde head as she stood in front of me, waiting for her friend to arrive. My arms wrapped around her slim waist, unable to tolerate physical distance between us if we were in the same place. I always had to have a hand on her wherever we were. She thought it was barbaric, but I didn’t care, and I knew it turned her on.

With her standing in front of me, I could smell the scent of her shampoo and feel her sexy body pressed against me. I glided my fingertips across the exposed flesh of her lower belly, putting me at ease. Having her in my arms served two purposes. It allowed me to have my hands on her, which I always craved, and it also sent a very clear signal to all the other swinging dicks in here that she was absolutely off limits.

She looked fucking hot tonight. So hot that we almost never made it here. She was wearing a short, plaid skirt and a white button-down shirt tied at her waist and her hair in a cute little ponytail. Classic schoolgirl shit.

The minute I saw her, I flipped her over the bed and spanked her, accusing her of trying to give every guy in the club a hard-on. Then I fucked her. Hard. As I pounded into her, I made her promise she was mine over and over again. The only reason I still let her wear it is because she was practically still dripping in my come.

“Who’s coming again?” I buried my face in her neck as I waited for her to answer. I already knew it was her friend Vanessa, but I loved teasing her and watching her chest heave in aggravation.

She whirled in my arms, hands on her curvy hips, her sky-blue eyes narrowed, and her chest heaving pleasingly. Gorgeous. “You know who it is.”

I shot her a smirk and pulled her against me. “Yes, it’s your friend. Veronica.” I was a little concerned that Willa’s friend being here would interfere with my plans for her tonight. A clingy, nervous friend was a real boner killer.

She slapped my arm and smiled. “Vanessa. You need to be nice to her, she’s going through a hard time right now. As I told you before, her ex, Jeff, was a total asshole to her throughout their whole relationship, then had the nerve to cheat on her. I knew he was bad news. Remember when I said he was bad news?”

“Yes, I remember,” I said indulgently, enjoying watching her get so animated over something so trivial.

“He was always so mean.”

I cocked my head. “Was he ever mean to you?” Anger started to build at the idea of some college asshole being a dick to my girl. Nobody got to be mean to her. Except me, but she liked my kind of mean.

“Oh, no. Not really. He was sort of a jerk, in general, not to me specifically. I never knew what she saw in him.” She was quick to pacify me. She knew what I’d been thinking.

An unwilling smile crossed my lips. “Some girls like mean guys. In fact, I remember a certain girl who had a man kidnap and whip her, then she spread her sexy legs for him and let him fuck her sweet, tight pussy.”

She gasped, her cheeks flooding with color. I loved shocking her with dirty talk. It always made her blush. “Killian, Jesus Christ, you don’t have to say it like that! And that was a case of mistaken identity! Remember? It doesn’t count.”

I grinned. Fuck yes, I remember. Something in my chest kicked at her impassioned defense of my indefensible behavior. One day, this girl was going to realize I was a motherfucker. Hopefully it wouldn’t be for a long, long time. “Maybe tonight we can recreate the day we met. I can strap you to the cross, flog this sexy ass, then maybe fuck it.”

Her cheeks continued to redden, but she fucking loved every suggestion. Craved every depraved thing I did to her sexy little body. Her hand started to slide down my chest, obviously making its way to my cock, when a voice chirped behind her.

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