Killian stalks into the bedroom, laying me down across the comforter gently as he settles above me, kissing his way across my cheek to my ear.
He nips at it gently, making me twist and arch under him. “Don’t move.” His hand glides down to my rib cage, pressing against it. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Is he fucking joking?
Don’t move when he does something like that to me?
Fucking impossible.
Hot, urgent lips glide down my neck, and I tilt my head away, giving him better access. He makes his way to the V of my T-shirt, then grasps the hem, lifts it from my arms, and tosses it aside, exposing my bare breasts to him.
They pebble instantly under his heated gaze.
Anticipating what’s to come.
“Fucking hell. Even more beautiful than I remember them.”
He dips his head and sucks one taut nipple into his mouth.
“Oh, God…”
I arch into him, pressing against his hips where his hard cock is now pinned between us. He groans his approval, lathing his tongue across the turgid peak as his other hand slides down and finds the waistband of my sweatpants. He toys with it, slowly dragging his fingers along the sensitive skin of my lower belly, making me spasm under him.
He releases my nipple and glances up at me as he moves to my other one. “I told you to be still.”
“That’s…not going to happen.”
It comes out breathy, desperate, not sounding like me at all, and a slow, lecherous grin spreads across his lips.
“I won’t do anything to hurt you, Honeybee.” He dips his head and slowly circles his tongue around my nipple, refusing to give it direct contact. “Maybe we should stop so I don’t risk it.”
I tunnel my hands into his thick blond hair and jerk on the long strands harshly. His eyes flare with an intense heat I know I’m going to feel burn me.
“Don’t you fucking stop, Killian McBride.”
This is all I’ve wanted besides answers since I first came back to the cabin.
Him.
Us.
Like this.
The way we used to be, all fire and passion, heat and desperation, the need for each other overpowering our good senses.
Because he’s probably right.
It’s probably too soon for my cracked ribs to handle whatever he has planned, but I can’t find myself caring as he slowly releases my nipple and sinks down lower, tugging my joggers and panties with him.
He pulls them off my feet and tosses them onto the floor, leaving me sprawled out naked in front of him. Fully exposed in front of the man who has always made me feel like a queen. Searing heat flickers through his gaze as it rakes over me. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get more beautiful, but somehow you have.”
Slowly, he reaches out and reverently trails his fingers over the almost-healed bruises that are turning an ugly color of yellow and green, with a few places still mottled spots of purple.
Many of the scrapes and scratches have healed, only the deeper cuts still visible.
He catalogs each one, bending down to feather his lips over them.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” Another soft brush of lips. Warm breath fluttering over goosebumped, marred skin. “I promise to make whoever is responsible pay for what they did to you.”