Page 66 of Killian

“Why are you here,a ghrá?”

I snort. “Isn’t that obvious?”

He chuckles. “Not in this room. In Chicago.”

I swallow hard and go to move again, but he again calls out, “Stop.”

“Why don’t you want me to come near you, Kill?”

“I want answers. If you answer them correctly, I’ll reward you. If not, I’ll punish you. Although, if I recall, you enjoy your punishments.”

A flash of the last time he spanked me flashes in my head. I can hear my sharp intake of breath, telling him exactly what he already knew. I enjoyed it immensely.

“Why are you here?” he repeats his question, but the humor is gone. Now there is only a demand.

“I’ve never been. I figured I should experience it.”

“One,” he calls out.

“What?”

“One punishment. Now tell me the truth.”

I’m flustered and way too turned on for this. When I go to move again, he leans forward into the light, allowing me to see his eyes. “Take one more step and I’ll tie your ass to that bed and leave you needy and wet as hell for the entire night.”

“Wouldn’t that be as much a punishment for you as for me?”

He smirks, a devilish look in his eyes. “I never said I wouldn’t get off. Just thinking about you tied to the bed at my mercy already has me ready to blow. I won’t keep asking. Why are you here? Last chance.”

Taking a deep breath, I give him as close to an honest answer as I’m willing to give. “I followed you.”

He gives me a small smile and nod of approval. “Good. Why?”

“No. I answered your question. You answer mine. Why are you here, Killian? Looking for a bride?”

His eyes shoot me a dangerous look, almost feral. “Don’t forget who is in charge here, Greer. Outside of the bedroom, I allow you your independence, but inside? This is my domain. You don’t make demands. You take them.”

My legs quiver at the dark, gravelly tone of his voice and the inflection in his words. I never in a million years thought I would like being ordered what to do, but with him, I do. I like that I can let him take the reins, giving my mind a break.

When I don’t speak again, his eyes dance with humor. “You followed me here. Why?”

I bite my lip, not willing to admit the truth.

His smile grows. “You were jealous, weren’t you? You thought I was coming for another woman.”

Without acknowledging he spoke, I look away.

He chuckles. “You look beautiful,a ghrá.That dress against your skin? It drove me crazy all night. Watching you talk to those men? I was ready to commit murder, the neutral zone be damned. Each and every offending limb that touched you ripped from their body. It took every single bit of my self-control to stand there and watch you with them.”

A shudder passes through my body. I shouldn’t be this turned on by his talk of murder, but the thought of how possessive he is being is like a lighter to my gasoline-soaked body. My heart is beating faster, sweat gathering on my skin. I can feel the flush on my face as I stand there, my center aching to be touched by this man. Every single admission a jolt to my body, priming it for what’s coming.

My heart flutters as I watch him lick his lower lip.

“Fuck, you’re a wet dream. Run your finger across your collarbone.” His demanding voice leaves no room for debate.

Not that I wanted to. I wanted to touch myself. Fuck, I wanted him to touch me.

Running my index finger across my collarbone, I shiver. My skin is warm and hypersensitive to both his eyes drinking me in and my own touch. Without waiting for his instruction, I trail it down the V in my dress, brushing against my exposed cleavage.

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