Page 89 of The Final Contract
Before I can answer, he’s hauling me up, his mouth crashing into mine, the taste of him still on my tongue. He spins, tossing me back onto the bed. His knife tumbles onto the mattress beside me, gleaming under the lamplight as he strips the rest of his clothes away.
His cock is still hard, still pulsing, ready for more.
Honestly, the stamina on this man should be studied as a scientific marvel.
I lean back on the bed, bare and open, my knees bent and spread wide. Every inch of me is his to see, his to touch, to claim. I coax him with a hungry smile, my voice husky. “Come here, big man. I need you.”
That’s all it takes. His control frays, feral energy pouring off him as his gaze drops to the knife glinting on the mattress. His grin turns wicked.
He picks it up, twirling it once like it weighs nothing, like it belongs in his hand as much as I do.
“You’re lying there naked for me, angel,” he rasps, crawling up the bed until he looms over me. “Spread open like a fucking feast. And all I can think about is how you’ll look with my knife against your skin while I take you.”
My pulse hammers. Excitement crashes into a tremor of fear, winding me so tight I could snap.
He brings the tip of the blade to my throat, dragging it slow, deliberate, down the column of my neck. My breath shudders out.
“You scared?” he asks, filthy and taunting, his gray eyes locked on mine.
“Yes.” My voice is barely a whisper.
“Wet?”
“Yes.”
His smirk deepens, feral now. “That’s my girl.”
The blade glides lower, between my breasts, circling one nipple before flicking across it with the flat of the steel. My back arches off the bed, a moan breaking free.
“You trust me?” he asks, pressing the cool blade flat against my sternum.
“Yes,” I breathe, every nerve ending on fire. “Always.”
His eyes darken further, his grin sharp as sin. “Good. Because I’m gonna make you come with this knife against your skin. You’ll scream for me while you feel how close I could cut you—and how much you fucking love it.”
The edge grazes down my stomach, stopping just above my mound, and my hips lift, begging.
“Say it,” he growls, pressing the blade flat against my thigh, close to where I ache for him. “Say you want this.”
“I want it.” My voice cracks, but it’s strong enough. “I want you. All of you. Every way you’ll take me.”
His cock twitches against my thigh, thick and hot. His free hand spreads me open, his eyes blazing as the knife hovers dangerously close.
“Filthy angel,” he murmurs, the sharp tip of the blade brushing my swollen clit before he replaces it with his tongue. “You’re mine to ruin.”
He nips my clit between his teeth, his tongue piercing teasing across it. Not hard, but it’s so fucking sensitive it nearly sends me into space.
My scream fills the room as fear and desire collide, and I know I’ll never want anyone but him.
His mouth is relentless, tongue flicking and sucking at my clit, his piercing dragging over me until my thighs quake.
He shifts, pressing the cool handle to my entrance, sliding it in with a slow push that makes my breath catch. The stretch is sharp, shocking, filthy. My moan breaks into a scream when he adds two thick fingers beside it, fucking me open while his tongue works me ruthlessly.
“Killian—oh God?—”
I buck against him, overwhelmed, his mouth devouring me as the handle thrusts deep, his fingers curling inside. The mix of steel, flesh, and his hot tongue is unbearable—intoxicating.
“Come on, angel,” he growls against me, lips slick, voice rough between licks. “Soak my knife. I want to taste you all over it.”
