Page 94 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“No. You’re not.”

Reaching out, I seize the waistband of his boxers. “Please. All my memories are of pain and fear. I want to remember this moment with you instead.”

“Dammit, Willow. I can’t think straight when you say shit like that.”

Slowly, I nudge his boxers down. “Then don’t think at all.”

Teeth gritted to suppress a groan, Killian watches me drag the material over the toned swell of his ass. He said it himself. This is all on my terms. I’m choosing to trust him with the most broken, fragile part of myself.

Any final protests die on his tongue when I wrap my hand around the base of his dick that pops free from his boxers. He’s intimidatingly large. His cock is thick and long, striped with prominent veins.

“Off,” I demand.

His eyebrows spike upwards. “Demanding much?”

“Yes. Take them off.”

Licking my lips, I shuffle to sit upright while Killian removes his boxers and tosses them aside. The intensity of his heated gaze sets my skin alight.

“Willow,” he warns thickly. “This is your last chance to walk away. You’re playing with fire.”

I pat the bed with a grin. “Maybe I want to get burnt.”

He retakes his place, stretching his legs out either side of me, offering full access to every inch of him. I swallow my anxiety and stroke my hand up and down his impressive length, getting used to the feel of his velvet shaft.

There’s a patch of light hair around the base, dusting upwards towards his packed abdominals. Leaning close, I press a soft kiss on the head of his dick before taking it into my mouth.

“Dammit,” Killian hisses.

Cupping a handful of his balls, I suck up and down his length. I can’t fit his whole girth in my mouth, the head is already nudging the back of my throat, leaving half untouched.

Turning my head, I lick around the swell of his tip. With each stroke of my tongue, his hips begin to move, thrusting upwards to gently fuck my mouth. I feel his hands fist in my hair, holding it tight.

“Fucking hell, Willow. That feels so good.”

The sense of power is heady. This man could snap my spine with a mere flick of his fingers, yet he’s the one beneath me now, begging for more of my attention.

I’ve never been afforded the chance to control a man like this. He might be riding my mouth right now, but I’m the one allowing him to. This is my performance. Under my control. He’s nothing more than a puppet to my will.

Gripping the hard planes of his thighs, I feel the sear of moisture escaping the corners of my eyes. He’s hitting the back of my throat with each upwards shift of his hips.

Before I can take more of his length, Killian pushes my shoulders, forcing me to release his cock. He’s wild-eyed and huffing each breath, glowing embers of animal lust lighting his irises.

“Hang on,” he says hoarsely.

Watching him reach into the nearby bedside table, he flourishes a foil packet. My heart hammers violently against my ribcage. Tearing it open, Killian pauses, still uncertain.

“I want this,” I assure him. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure, Willow?”

“I trust you. Isn’t that enough?”

He considers me, nodding to himself. “Yeah, it is. I just don’t want to do anything to fuck this up. You mean too much to me.”

My insides turn to pathetic mush. “Come here.”

Lips smashing together, his kiss seals any remaining cracks of doubt in my mind, even subconscious. I can feel his need to love and protect in the unspoken ferocity of his lips devouring mine.

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