Page 95 of Where Broken Wings Fly

Killian would never hurt me.

The safest place in the world is right here.

Breaking the kiss, I watch him roll the condom over his length. When he touches me again, his roughened hands on my skin don’t bring pain, but blistering waves of pleasure. I let him lay me down on the bed, his knee pushing my legs open.

I’m still soaked from one mind-blowing orgasm, and his thumb stroking against my clit reignites the heavenly warmth running through my veins with each tiny touch. My legs squeeze his waist, beckoning him in.

Killian peppers kisses along my jawline. “You belong to me now. I’m the only man you’re allowed to think of when I’m buried in your cunt.”

“I’m here with you. I promise.”

His cock nudges my entrance, not quite breaching me. “What do you want, baby?” He slowly pushes inside. “You want me to fuck your sweet pussy?”

“Yes,” I gasp. “Fuck, yes.”

“Beg me, Willow. I want to hear it.”

It should be humiliating, but his gruff demands only turn me on even more. There’s no malicious greed behind his words, just lust and passion that beckons me closer.

“Please, Kill. I’m begging you.”

“Begging me for what?” he pushes.

I want to scream in frustration. He’s inching inside my slit but holding back the final move that will offer me much-needed relief.

“I’m begging for you to fuck me,” I mewl, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

His soft expression melts away like wallpaper peeling from decaying walls. Animal desire is left behind. The man beneath the mask unveils himself—an impatient beast who threatens death to anyone that dares to challenge his control.

Killian snaps.

Actually, finally snaps.

Mouth slanting against mine, he swallows my loud groan as he surges inside of me in one slick move. The agony I’ve come to expect never arrives. Instead, ecstasy engulfs my senses, blotting out everything else.

Killian slides out of me and shifts his hips, pushing back in to stretch my walls. His strokes are long and confident, filling me to the brim each time, encouraging me to take the extra inches as I relax into it.

“So fucking tight,” he hisses.

I can’t even garble a response. My brain is short-circuiting. His pumps drag endless moans from my mouth, each louder than the last. I’m panting and begging him for more with every passing second.

Holding my waist, he moves a little faster, finding his rhythm with ease. Each time he enters me, fireworks explode beneath my skin. I want more. Need more. He’s making me feel alive, and I’ll do anything to hold on to this feeling.

“Willow.” He rocks into me. “You.” His tongue drags up my throat. “Are.” He captures my lips in a breath-stealing kiss. “Perfect.”

When I’m about to scream his name, he quickly pulls out and leaves me on the cusp of falling apart. I yell in frustration, writhing and fisting handfuls of his bedsheets. The sudden loss is so acute.

Killian shifts backwards on the bed, dragging me with him. His long legs stretch across the mattress, and he lifts me in the air then drops me on his lap with a grunt. My mind spins with the abrupt role-reversal.

“I want to watch you bounce on my cock with your perfect tits in my face,” he explains with a filthy wink.

Manoeuvring my hips to find the perfect position, he lines his length up with my soaked entrance again. I hold on to his shoulders, circling his waist with my legs until we’re flush against each other.

On top of him, I choose the exact moment to sink down on his hard rod and let him fill me back up. In this position, he reaches an even deeper angle. I throw my head back and moan his name, relishing the feeling of fullness.

“Kill,” I hum.

“Move, baby.” He palms my breasts, squeezing gently. “You look like a motherfucking goddess on top of me right now.”

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