Page 96 of Where Broken Wings Fly

It takes a few attempts to find the right movement. Arms wound around his neck, I rise and fall on his length, swivelling my hips to find the perfect angle to relieve the ache deep inside of my core.

He sinks his face between my breasts, his thumbs mercilessly toying with my rock hard nipples. When he twists one, the sharp stab of pain heightens my rampant desire. The two blend into an inferno that sears my insides.

“Fuck, Kill. I need to come.”

His teeth graze across my left nipple. “Are you close, beautiful girl?”

“Y-Yes. So close.”

His fingers slide through my hair, and he roughly tugs a handful, causing me to hiss out a curse. I move faster—chasing my release, needing the wave inside of me to crest.

With one hand in my hair and the other moving to hold my hip, Killian’s patience expires. He thrusts upwards beneath me, pushing deep into my pussy as I slam down on him. His timing is excruciatingly perfect.

Our shared strokes allow my release to build, my walls clenching tight around his dick. We fit snugly together, like lock and key. He’s so big, I can barely fit all of him inside me.

Nails cutting into his shoulder blades, I crash down on his cock one more time and feel myself finally reach that unattainable peak. I can’t hold it in for a second longer, my body surrendering to bliss.

“That’s it,” he directs. “Cover me in your sweet juices.”

“Killian,” I cry out.

His thrusts remain steady, squeezing every last drop of my release. I cling to him, letting him fuck me senseless, despite my orgasm stealing the breath from my lungs. His strokes don’t relent, demanding even more from me.

“So fucking beautiful.”

My limbs turn to jelly, and Killian quickly lifts me from his lap, laying me face down on the bed. I grip handfuls of his bedsheets again, still quivering like a leaf.

I’ve barely sucked in a breath when he lifts my ass into the air and uses the upright position to push back into my slit from behind. The vulnerability of the position almost catches me out, but his murmured praise keeps me locked in the present.

“More,” I beg him.

The sound of my gasping moans echo around the room as he pounds into me, and I doubt there’s anyone in the house who can’t hear the chaos we’re causing. I need him to fuck me to death and leave no space for the demons of my past.

“Take it,” he grunts.

Killian’s palm cracks against my ass cheek, but the blow doesn’t trigger me. I relish the welcome sting of pain, extending my release into a series of explosive aftershocks. His fast pumps rattle the bed frame, testing its construction.

He doesn’t hold back, tossing aside his reservations and fucking me into a sweaty tangle on his bed. Each spank accompanies a thrust, his coordinated attack on my body forcing me to ride the waves of my orgasm over and over again.

It doesn’t stop. I’m being annihilated, but for the first time, it’s entirely my choice. This is a destructive collision of my choosing, and it feels entirely too good to be the one in control of my sexuality again.

“Fuck!” Killian roars.

With a final slam, he stills and booms a guttural curse. Even through the condom, I can feel the surge of heat inside me from his seed. It sends me spiralling again, unable to hold the frayed edges of my mind together.

I’m falling.

Falling.

Falling.

But he’s here to catch me.

Our skin is glued together with a sheen of sweat as Killian twists his body to land sideways on the bed instead of crushing me beneath his weight. I’m numb and speechless, floating on a cloud of contentment.

He drags me into his arms and imprisons me against the rapid rise and fall of his chest. All I can hear is the thunderous pounding of his heart, as if it’s trying to break free to crawl inside me and find a new home.

“Are you okay?” he gasps.

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