Page 54 of The Final Contract
Because now I’m trapped.
Alone with the beast I riled up.
The second the door shuts, he’s on me.
My back hits the wood with a thud, his mouth slamming onto mine. His kiss is rough, devouring, swallowing my squeal. I know the guard still stationed in the hall can hear every gasp, every scrape of my heels on the floor.
I don’t care.
Killian rips at my dress, fist curling at my chest until the fabric tears down the middle. I gasp into his mouth as he peels it off me, leaving me in nothing but my heels and a black, strapless bra.
“Killian—”
His knife is out in a flash, gleaming in the low light. The cold tip slides between my breasts, slipping under the satin. A single upward slice, and the bra parts like paper, falling away.
“Jesus,” I gasp, heart pounding.
“Quiet,” he growls, lowering his mouth to my breasts. His tongue is hot, his teeth sharper. He sucks hard, nips at the soft flesh until I arch into him with a cry.
Then he bites—just enough to pinch, to sting, to claim.
“Oh God?—”
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, my legs wrapping around his waist. His mouth is back on mine, his teeth tugging at my bottom lip.
“I’m not makin’ it to the bed,” he mutters against my lips.
“Don’t care,” I breathe.
He half carries, half staggers us down the hall, but stops short, pinning me against the wall. His mouth claims me again—brutal and hungry—leaving my lips swollen and wet.
Then he drops me to my feet.
Before I can steady myself, he kneels, dragging kisses down my stomach. His teeth scrape my hip, making me moan out loud.
“Killian…”
“Spread for me.” His voice is a command, dark and low.
He hooks my thigh over his shoulder, pressing his mouth into my pussy like he owns it.
The first sweep of his tongue has me crying out, clutching his hair. The cool scrape of the piercing over my clit makes me see stars.
“Fuck—yes,” I moan, rocking against him. His scruffy beard feels amazing between my thighs, just like I’d imagined a hundred times.
His tongue is merciless—curling, flicking, plunging deep. He isn’t eating me out because it’s expected. He’s devouring me because he wants to. Because he craves it. Because he wants me writhing on his mouth until I break.
This man loves to eat pussy.
“Killian, I can’t?—”
“You can,” he growls against me, and sucks harder.
I come hard, a scream tearing from me. But he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow.
He shifts, hooking my other leg over his shoulder.
Then he rises. Stands to his full height with me in his arms, my back pinned to the wall, my pussy spread wide for his mouth.
