Page 32 of Killian

I rev the engine and turn the bike around. As I speed off, I look in the rearview mirror and spot Conor standing outside the warehouse, arms crossed, watching me.

With eyes on the road, I speed toward the pub. I can’t help but replay everything that went down this afternoon.

Who tried to take our shipment? Was it us they were after or someone else? Is Conor right about Greer? Is she distracting me?

I know she’s a distraction. I shouldn’t even be questioning that, but I thought I was keeping shit together pretty well.

The thought of her influencing my judgment floats right on by. Everything I do is to keep her safe, which means keeping the family safe so she has a safe place to be.

I park the bike in a fire zone in front of the pub, hoping it will be towed. Getting off the bike, I storm into the pub, passing the bar straight up the stairs to my office. Once inside, I slam the door, letting out a growl as I punch the wood. Once. Twice.

I tense as I feel her approach. I forgot she was working here today. She alternates between here and the house to keep Bash appeased.

Resting my hands on the door, I lean into it. Letting my head fall between my arms.

“Don’t,” I hiss as I feel her rest her hand on my back.

As always, Greer does as she wants, not listening.

She ducks under my arm, stepping between the door and me. Meeting her eyes, I see hers brimming with worry and confusion.

“What happened?” she demands softly.

I step into her, pushing her back into the door. My hands move from the door, one into her hair and one onto her hip. I pull her hair and kiss her roughly. Greer gasps, giving me entry into her mouth. Our tongues duel as she lets me kiss her, taking what I have to give.

“What do you need, Kill?” she whimpers as I bite her lip.

“Turn around,” I demand, breaking away from her.

Greer does as I say, resting her hands on the door, head bowed.

So bloody fucking perfect.

I undo my belt, slowly pulling it through the loops. I watch as Greer’s breathing becomes labored in anticipation. I weave the end of the belt through the first loop as I step into Greer. Reaching forward, I remove her hand from the door, pulling it behind her back, feeding it into the belt loop. I create the second loop and reach for her other hand, putting it into place before tightening the cuffs.

The belt might have been an impulse buy a long time ago, but it’s one I’d do over again for moments like this. To ensure her safety, knowing that at a moment’s notice I can bind her without hurting her.

I spin Greer around. Her chest falls rapidly, lips parted in anticipation.

“On your knees,” I rasp as I undo my pants. Letting them fall.

“Commando?” Greer smirks as she falls to her knees. “Did you plan this, Mr. O’Reilly?” she teases.

“No talking. Open,” I demand.

Stepping forward, I weave one hand into her hair, running my cock along her bottom lip. I watch as a bead of cum spreads across her lip. Greer’s tongue peeks out, bushing the head of my cock, making me hiss.

“Who’s in control?” I ask harshly as I pull her head back farther.

“You are,” she says huskily.

“I won’t be gentle,” I tell her as my heart pounds.

Greer raises a brow as she pulls forward, taking me into her mouth. Sucking my cock between her plump lips. The feeling of her warm, wet mouth on me has me surging forward. I feel myself bump the back of her throat and can’t help but groan as she swallows around me. Greer greedily alternates between sucking and licking me as I fuck her face. She swirls her tongue around the head of my cock, making me hiss in pleasure. I feel her teeth graze me, only heightening my pleasure. Feeding both hands into her hair, I take control and pound into her tight little mouth. I watch the tears flow from Greer’s desire-filled eyes as I empty myself in the back of her throat. I catch myself on the door with one arm. With one hand, I massage the back of her head, knowing I pulled harder than I should have. Stepping back, I pull my pants up before gathering Greer in my arms.

I carry her across the room and sit her in my lap as I recover. I undo the belt, pulling her arms forward and start to message each wrist as she rests her head on my shoulder.

“How wet are you?”

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