Page 14 of Arrogant Bastard

“It’s not. I didn’t want to believe it either. But the monsters we slayed are no longer happy to stay dead.”

The quiet gravity of his answer freezes everything inside me. Long enough for Killian to place his hands on my shoulders and draw his fingers down my bare arms.

“How…when…why?” I don’t know where to start. Cairo was supposed to be our last assignment together before we sailed off into the sunset. Or wherever people go with the kind of toxic baggage we carry. Instead I ended up sacrificing what precious little I’d manage to wrest of my soul from eternal damnation. And still that hadn’t been enough. By the time I crawled away, broken and bleeding, I was less than nothing.

While I’m grappling with the connotations of the bombshell he’s dropped at my feet, his fingers shackle my wrists. The unbreakable hold and the unspoken command to submit in that act grounds my flaying senses and shifts my attention from one nightmare to another. A second later, he presses his body into mine. I’m too shocked to be pissed at the fact that he’s restraining me again, exerting his dominance.

These days, the role I’ve taken for myself includes six-inch heels and head-to-toe leather, with the odd exception when a client demands a specific outfit. But in my sneakers, I’m more than a foot shorter than Killian. I may be small but no man has made me feel vulnerable in a long time. No man except Killian. And it’s the kind of vulnerable that always turned me on. He knew it then. He’s counting on it now. Before I can demand to be freed, he widens his stance and brackets my hips with his thighs, using his body to dominate me even more.

“I’ll tell you everything,” he mutters in my ear, his voice so rough it’s nearly incoherent. “I promise. But it’s been over four years, baby. I’m fucking dying here. You have to give me something.” He rocks his hips into me, firmly imprinting the rod of his cock in the small of my back.

Dear God, he’s even thicker than I remember, and I pride myself on the sharpness of my memory. It’s saved my life more than a few times.

My pussy clenches, even as I force myself to shake my head. “I’m not going to fuck you, Killian.” I’m pleased with the delivery. Firm. Succinct.

His strained groan turns into a laugh against my neck as his fingers tighten around my wrists. “I’m aware of that. For reasons I still don’t know, you need to twist the knife in a little more. But I need something. Dammit, I need you,” he pleads.

My insides threaten to turn to jelly. “Blow jobs and hands jobs are off the table too,” I snap.

His thumbs caress the insides of my wrists, linger over my racing pulse. “Fair enough. I’d probably make a damn fool of myself if you put those beautiful lips on my cock right now anyway.”

“You act like we’re negotiating. This isn’t a negotiation. This is me telling you everything you want is off the table.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. That’s not going to work for me.”

“Killian—”

“I’m going to let go of your wrists now,” he interrupts. The edge is back in his voice. Sharper. Rougher. “Stay put. I’m not chasing you around the apartment again.”

“You—”

“Shh. You’ve stated your terms. I’ve heard you out. Now you hear me out.” He releases one wrist, and I feel his hand on my hair. He tackles the knot, and the band holding my ponytail is tugged out a moment later. Impatient fingers slide through the tresses, and he makes a gruff sound under his breath as he grips a handful and imprisons me again. “I’ve barely been able to eat or sleep these past four days, knowing you were here within reach. I told you the years have been hell. These past days have been beyond pure fucking torture. A lesser bastard would be content with having you in his arms, alive and so fucking beautiful, once again.”

His mouth trails my jaw and cheek, and I shudder at the brush of his rough stubble. I close my eyes and desperately try not to think of the other places I want that stubble to rub.

“But this bastard, your bastard, is going out of his mind with the need to taste you again. If fucking you is off the table, I’ll take the next best thing.”

My body goes furnace-hot, and my mouth drops open. “No…that’s not…you can’t—”

He whirls me around and slams his mouth on mine. Like two meteors colliding, the explosion is cataclysmic and intense enough to stop my heart for a second. Then he slides his tongue across my lower lip, and everything goes into free fall. Killian devours my mouth with an intensity that makes me almost fear how close to the edge he is. But with my own hunger clawing right up the crazy peak to join his, I chase the sensation with a rabid ferocity I know I will be ashamed of once this ends.

And it has to end. I didn’t run for this long only to be sucked back into his dark, addictive world where living on the edge became the norm. That world broke me, and I’m sure the pieces I managed to pick up are a poor, pathetic mosaic of the person I used to be. But she’s all I have. And I’m not giving her up that easily.

No matter how devastatingly divine his kiss feels.

His tongue strokes against mine in a slow, filthy dance that makes my knees sag in a response totally out of my control. He groans in mutual pleasure, and his cock jumps against my belly. And simply because this feeling, once birthed, demands nurturing, he repeats the move. Over and over until I’m hopelessly wet, and the hands I don’t remember wrapping around his waist are digging into his back.

We’re both struggling to suck in enough oxygen when Killian rips his mouth from mine and leans back. Eyes turned a dark, turbulent blue rake my face before they settle on my tingling mouth. “Jesus, baby, your fucking lips. This gorgeous, insane, fucking mouth.”

Before I can scramble enough brain matter to respond, he groans again, dips his head, and begins the assault all over again. My lips are on fire. My breasts are screaming for attention, and my nipples are as hard as diamonds. And that’s just what’s happening up north.

Down south, my clit feels like three times its normal size, and my pussy is clenching and unclenching with furious spasms that make me scared it’s going to permanently damage itself if I don’t fill it with a cock. With Killian’s cock. Like, right now. Before it shames me into a premature orgasm like that time when Killian challenged me to orgasm just by kissing. And I hopelessly, gloriously lost the bet.

No. God, no. I don’t want that reminder anywhere near my treacherous body. But Killian’s hands have joined in the mind-altering torture. His fingers are tracing over my neck, lingering on the pulse hammering at my throat. Then down my collarbone to follow the neckline of my tank top. He lingers there for the longest time, drawing out the time when he shifts lower. I barely manage to contain my scream when he bypasses my breasts to slide his hands down my rib cage. He grabs my waist and lifts me off my feet, and his mouth fuses with mine for another carnal kiss before he sets me back down.

And then he lifts his head. “Are you ready?” he growls against my mouth.

My brain scrambles for a few seconds, my functioning senses focused on where he hasn’t touched me yet. “Am I…? Kissing me wasn’t what you meant by the next best thing, was it?”

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