Page 92 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“I meant what I said, Willow. I’m not doing this for the wrong reasons.”

“Kill. Shut up and kiss me.”

He grabs my face and slams his lips against mine without another whisper of protest. Soft at first, he coaxes me in, his teeth nipping my bottom lip before his tongue slips inside my mouth to increase the tempo.

Mr Sanchez never kissed me. That would’ve been too intimate for him. He certainly never touched me like this, with gentle, loving reverence. I doubt he’s even capable of it.

Blocking his memory out, I stick him in a mental prison and lose myself to the sweetness of Killian’s kiss. His palm slides up my thigh, still slung across his body. Every stroke of his fingers is setting me on fire.

Gripping my hips tight, in one sudden move he manages to pull me on top of him. His cock presses up against the heat dampening my panties. I rock into him, desperately seeking more friction to satisfy the building ache.

“You like that?” he rumbles.

“Yes,” I admit, writhing on his lap. “It feels… good.”

“What else do you like?”

Arching my back as his hands find the swell of my breasts, I release a moan. He rolls my nipples between his fingertips, tugging on the stiffening peaks. My chest feels so sensitive, tingling with the slightest of touches.

“Words,” he reminds.

“Fuck,” I moan. “I like it when you bite my nipples.”

“That’s it, baby.”

His lips secure themselves to my left breast, lightly nipping and sucking to leave a bright red mark in my skin. Teeth capturing my nipple, he lightly bites down, fulfilling my plea.

“What else?” Killian encourages.

Still grinding against his hard length, I long to remove the fabric barrier keeping us apart. My fear has evaporated. Gone. Right now, I am in control. This formidable beast of a man is begging for the chance to worship me.

“Kiss me,” I beg him. “And… pull my hair a bit.”

“Damn, Willow. Are you feeling brave?”

“Maybe.”

“I think I like this side of you.”

Curling a handful of my long hair around his fist, Killian tugs on it to drag my mouth back to his. I land on his chest, my mouth seeking his out with an embarrassing mewl.

He pulls again, harder this time, and the pain blends perfectly with the fire racing over my skin. I love watching his gentleness fade, and hints of his dominance shine through.

“Anything else?”

“I want to forget him,” I blurt before I can stop myself.

Killian hesitates. “Your husband?”

“Help me to forget what he did to me. I need you to replace all that pain with new memories. Good ones.”

He curses colourfully. “I am going to break that bastard’s fucking skull. I don’t even need to know what he did to you. He’s already signed his goddamn death warrant.”

“Come back to me, Kill.”

Blinking the haze of anger from his eyes, he blows out a breath. “Keep your eyes on me at all times. You’re not allowed to think about anything else. Am I clear?”

There it is again—that hot dominance. I love it.

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