Page 59 of Keep Me

His expression is guarded as he stares at me through the moonlight. “Because I wanted to.”

I feel unsatisfied with that answer, and I don’t understand why. “Well, we’re not doing this. Like I said, we’re not really married.”

“Yes, we are,” he replies before folding his arms.

I let out a sigh of frustration. “I mean…we’re not really a couple. So we’re not doing thejust-sexthing.”

He scratches his beard for a moment, and I find myself zeroing in on his fingers, remembering the way they felt in my mouth. I wonder if I left a mark from where I bit him.

“Why not?” he asks.

“What do you mean, why not?”

He shrugs. “Why can’t we have a physical relationship? We are married. We have a long cold winter ahead of us with nothing better to do.”

Suddenly I imagine just how fun this housecouldbe if I weren’t constantly secluded in the library and living room.

But no. I just went over this in my head. If I get physical with Killian, feelings will surely get muddled, and that’s a bad idea.

I quickly shake the thought away. “No.”

“Is that really why you came in here and woke me up? To tell me we wouldn’t be doing that again?” he asks, and I hear the skepticism in his voice.

“Yes,” I reply, standing my ground.

To my surprise, he responds with a low, grumbly, “Come here.”

My heart rate picks up. By the time I answer him, it’s too late.

“No,” I murmur half-heartedly.

He lets out a growl. “Come herenow.”

My brow furrows, and I take an angry step toward him. “You can’t talk to me like that! I don’t have to listen to you.”

In a flash of movement, he reaches out and grabs my hand, hauling me to the bed and flipping me over his body so I’m lying next to him. Then he rolls his large body on top of me.

“Killian!” I shout.

“You’re all bark and no bite, my wee wife.”

“Oh, I’ll bite,” I reply with fuming anger.

He chuckles down at me as he holds up his right hand. “That’s right. You do. How could I forget?” As he shows me the red line across his middle finger, he uses it as an opportunity to flip me off at the same time.

Suddenly, I feel his heavy weight pressed between my legs. He’s in nothing but a pair of tight boxer briefs, and I’m in a simple long T-shirt and a pair of panties. Which I’m realizing now was not wise to come to talk him in.

“You’re telling me this wouldn’t be nice?” he asks as he grinds his hips against my core.

By some miracle, I hold in the moan that wants to escape.

Because it does feel nice. It feelsveryfucking nice.

“No,” I reply through clenched teeth.

“Don’t lie, mo ghràidh.”

“Don’t call me that.”

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