Page 454 of Rage

He doesn’t stop to remove my heels, dragging one leg over his shoulder, pressing close to my center. Only a thin piece of red silk separates us, and I’m ashamed to admit how wet I am.

Killian sees it, though. He inhales at my pussy, smiling against me.

“You’re fucking soaked.”

“It’s the adrenaline,” I bite out, watching as he kisses my inner thigh. Close, but not where I want him.

“No. I think it’s more than that.” His teeth surprise me, dragging over the fabric, leaving my knees trembling. “I think you like seeing me kneel at your feet. Like a war goddess,covered in the blood of your enemies, being pleasured by your dark god. Does this turn you on?”

The images are fucking hot. Beyond hot. They’re molten. The idea that this man, this killer, would worship me is a power trip.

I grow wetter, and he chuckles.Fucking bastard. He knows what he’s doing to me.

He reaches up, snapping the strings with a bite of pain. Before I can object, he places them in his jeans.

“Souvenir?”

“Definitely. I’ll need something for later when I’m fucking my hand to the memory of your wet cunt.”

My pussy hums as his tongue darts out to take a long, languid lick. My head falls back, ecstasy and relief mixing with budding pleasure. He groans against me.

“You were right. His blood was sweet but not as sweet as this pussy.” He goes back again with long licks that leave me breathless, toes curling.

Deep pleasure starts to well inside of me. He latches onto my clit, lapping at it with hard strokes and, finally, I moan low in the room.

Who cares if the door is open and a dead body is next to me? Killian Linwood is tongue fucking me against a wall, and it feels so fucking right. The world could burn to ashes around us, and I wouldn’t move from this spot.

“That’s it, Princess.” He smiles, chin wet. “Let this entire house know who makes you feel this good.” He goes back, lifting my other leg so only his shoulders and the wall are supporting me.

His tongue flicks and strokes against my sensitive flesh. Teeth nibble around my core, soothing and wicked. My whole body begins to burn. Soon, one finger enters me, and I clamp down.

The intrusion is hard, bringing painful memories to the front.

Of being forced on my back, legs pulled wide…

“Eyes on me, Maeve.” My eyes flicker open. He kisses my inner thigh almost lovingly. “You stay here, with me. He doesn’t get this. This is for us.”

No, Michael doesn’t get this. He’s dead, killed by my own hand. I’m covered in his blood.

I’m taking this back.

Nodding, I lick my lips, mind resolved. “I’m with you.”

“Good.” He locks eyes with me as his mouth descends on my clit and another finger enters me. My body tries to accommodate it, not used to relaxing at the stretch, but I breathe and think through it.

With Killian here, eyes open, I can only see him, think of him, smell him—cool mint and a bare trace of cigarette tobacco—and see the desire in his eyes. Desire forme.

His tongue moves faster in time with his fingers, and soon, my hips are grinding against him, chasing my release.

A fire rages in my gut, dancing up my spine. My vision darkens, focused on the man before me as my body tightens. A loud groan releases from my throat, and the orgasm crashes into me like a thunderous burst, dams weakening, core melting from his touch.

Killian doesn’t stop, moving and drawing it out until a small one shakes me, and I push at his arms. “No, enough.”

“No, Maeve. I don’t hear that safe word.” He continues to lick and suck, drawing a pained moan from my lips. It burns, drawing my body tight again. I want to move away, but I can’t. I won’t. “If you need to stop, use it.”

I don’t want to stop. I can’t. Having Killian’s mouth on me is the sweetest torture, and like hell am I going to use the safe word.Stubbornwill be written on my gravestone.

That’s the first orgasm I’ve ever had that wasn’t self-induced. Words can’t describe how fantastic it felt, knowing Killian was actually here, enjoying this as much as me.

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