Page 140 of Crown of Lies

I pull back slightly, meeting his gaze. “And it’s mine.”

A low growl escapes Killian’s throat, and suddenly our positions are reversed. My back hits the wall as he presses against me, his body hard and unyielding.

“Is that so?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting along my jaw. “And what makes you think you have any say in the matter?”

I tilt my head, exposing my neck to him. “Because I’m the only one you want,” I say, my voice breathy but confident. “The only one who’s ever made you feel this way.”

He growls, his hand curling around my throat, sending a hot shiver down my spine. I can feel the leashed tension in his body, that barely contained violence that always has me on the tightrope between pleasure and pain.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asks, his voice a gravelly whisper.

“Yours,” I rasp out, my eyes fluttering closed as his thumb strokes my sensitive skin.

“And what do you want me to do with it?”

I open my eyes, staring up into his hidden ones, hungry and dark. “Fuck it. Take it hard.”

“How do you want to be fucked, siren? Like my dirty little whore, or a good girl?”

I don’t hesitate. “Fuck me like I’m your whore, Killian.”

A satisfied noise rumbles in his chest, vibrating through my body where we connect. He lifts me then, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me away from the crowd, away from the prying eyes.

I feel the change in atmosphere as we enter a private room. The red light shifts, bathing us in its dark, sensual glow. I can see his back reflected in the mirrors on the wall, and I can’t help but think of the first time Killian and I were here, in this club, giving in to our desires.

“Do you remember the first time?” he asks, as if he’s reading my thoughts. “The first time I tasted your sweet pussy here at this club?”

His thumb strokes my lower lip, and I bite down gently, my eyes never leaving his.

“How could I forget?” I answer. “I still think about that night. Often.”

His hand moves between us, freeing his thick cock. Every move he makes is deliberate, dominant. He’s in control, and I love the way he lets me know—taking his time, standing over me, teasing me even though he knows I have absolutely no patience and even less self-control when I’m around him.

“Get on your knees.”

His voice is low, commanding. I obey, my heart pounding as I lower myself to the floor.

“Look at you, just as beautiful as the first time.” His gaze rakes over me, and he reaches out, his fingers tangling in my hair. “On your knees, just like this, in that little black dress. You didn’t know it then, but you were mine from that moment on.”

I swallow, nodding, unable to speak, the memory vivid in my mind.

“You wanted to please me, didn’t you? You wanted to take all of me in your mouth, to make me happy.” The last part is a statement, not a question. He knows the answer. “I could see it in your eyes, the determination, the desire. But you didn’t expect it to be so hard, did you?”

I shake my head as I relive that moment. “No,” I whisper.

“You gagged so beautifully, struggled to take me all. But you tried so hard, didn’t you? Because you were mine.”

I nod again, my eyes never leaving his as he continues to stroke his cock. “I could see it in your eyes, the need to please me. To serve me. It was so clear, even then.”

He leans down, his lips brushing my ear. “I want to choke you with my cock, siren. I want to see you gag and gasp for air as you take me deep. You want that too, don’t you?”

I lick my lips, desire coursing through me. I nod, unable to speak for a second, my throat dry with anticipation.

“Yes,” I finally rasp.

“That’s right,” he says, his hand tightening in my hair as he guides my mouth closer to his length. “You want to be my good little whore. Just for me.”

“Yes,” I breathe again, my eyes fluttering closed as he pushes my head toward him.

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