Page 70 of The Final Contract
Relief crashes into me, loosening my chest. But disappointment lingers too—sharp and unwelcome. I want this over. I want him caught. I want to move on.
The lights rise, and people stand, gathering jackets and empty popcorn tubs. My date turns toward me, lips parting like he’s about to ask if I’d like to grab a bite to eat, but he doesn’t get the chance.
Killian is suddenly there, looming, every inch the professional bodyguard. “It’s time for her to go.” His voice is calm, clipped. Business.
But when his eyes slice to mine, there’s nothing professional about it. They’re feral, wild, still echoing with the promises he made in the back of the limo.
He leads me through the crowd without hesitation, a hand at my back that burns through my dress, steering me down a side hallway and out a service door. We spill into the cool night air of an alley, the scent of damp asphalt rising around us.
And then he’s on me.
My back slams against the wall, his body pinning mine, his mouth devouring me. All command, no patience—his kiss demanding everything I have left to give. His weight presses me harder into the bricks, his cock thick and unrelenting against my belly through his slacks.
The world shrinks to nothing but him—his taste, his heat, his promise finally snapping its leash.
His thigh wedges between mine, hard muscle pressing up against me, and I can’t stop myself—I grind down on it. Desperate. Starving.
A growl rumbles from his chest. His mouth drags to my ear, voice a dark snarl. “Such a fucking slut. You’ll use anything to come, won’t you?”
“Yes,” I whine, hips rolling against him shamelessly. “Yes.”
I don’t even see him move, but suddenly his knife is in his hand, the glint of steel catching the alley’s dim light. My heart stutters, heat flooding me. He slices through my panties with a quick flick, the fabric giving way like nothing. He tucks the ruined lace into his pocket—souvenirs, just like before.
The flat of the hilt brushes my bare slit, and I gasp, thighs trembling.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, dragging the handle against my clit in slow circles. “So wet, angel, I could fuck you with this handle, couldn’t I?”
“Please,” I pant, clutching at his shoulders.
“Quiet.” His gray eyes cut to mine, razor-sharp. “The car’s right there. Guards just on the other side of this wall. You want them to hear you fall apart on my knife?”
The shame, the danger, makes my pussy clench harder.
He strokes the hilt over my clit—steady, relentless. My hips buck, chasing it, my nails digging into his chest through his shirt. I bite my lip, fighting the moans building in my throat.
“Come for me,” he whispers, calm and brutal. “Be my good girl and come quiet.”
The orgasm tears through me, my body trembling as I smother the sounds against his chest—my clit pulsing against the cool, unforgiving handle. My release soaks him, slicking my thighs, wetting the weapon still pressing against me.
Before I can catch my breath, he shifts the knife, pressing the hilt to my entrance. My eyes fly wide.
“Killian—”
“You can take it,” he rasps, propping his booted foot on a ledge so he can sling my leg over his thigh. He spreads my pussy lips with his fingers and watches as he wets the weapon with my juices, then carefully slides the handle inside me, stretching me open with a filthy squelch. “So fucking wet…Christ, you were made for this.”
The intrusion is obscene, raw. My body clamps down around it, every nerve ending on fire. He pumps it in and out, fucking me with his weapon, the steel handle coated in my slick.
“Shhh.” He clamps his palm over my mouth, eyes burning into mine. “Stay quiet while I ruin you.”
I sob against his hand as the second orgasm slams into me—harsher, wilder than the first.
“You’re safe with me, baby.” My release gushes, dripping down his hand, down my thighs, soaking the alley floor. He works the knife, never letting the blade come close to me. “As long as I’m by your side, I’ll never let you get hurt.”
He keeps me pinned there, trembling—still stuffed full of his knife—until the aftershocks leave me weak. He gives me a gentle kiss against my temple, such a contrast to what we just did.
Then he slides the knife free, sucks the handle clean, and wipes the slick hilt across my ruined panties before securing both like trophies.
He doesn’t give me time to recover. He straightens, grabs my hand, and leads me out of the alley like nothing happened. My legs shake as we approach the waiting car. The guards take to their doors without a word.
