I slap him back as hard as I can, but it only makes him jog harder up the stairs.
When we get to his room he throws me on the bed and cuffs me to it.
“Stay,” he says mockingly, and when I glare up at him, obviously “staying”, his face hardens. “Good girl.”
“You keeping me locked up in this house isn’t going to help anything. All these problems are still going to catch up with us whether I’m tied to your bed or the next victim hanging in a tree,” I scream at him, letting my hot, angry tears fall.
His face turns severe, and if I wasn’t so overwhelmed, I’d be afraid.
“One day, you’ll learn to watch your fucking mouth,” he says before stomping out of his room. He doesn’t forget to slam the door hard enough to shake the entire room, though.
And it’s like all the semi-sweet moments we’ve had recently have been erased.
17
Desiree
Steam fills the bathroom while the clawfoot tub fills with water and bubbles. He’s going to fight me on it, I’m sure, but Killian needs a good soak. He wasn’t injured badly in the fight, thank goodness, but his knuckles are busted open and his lip is bleeding and starting to swell.
I watch as he leans against the sink, in just his boxer briefs, and scrubs the dried blood from his hands. He doesn’t wince, and I wonder if he even feels pain anymore.
“You need to soak,” I tell him after switching off the water and dipping my hand beneath the bubbles to check the temperature.
He snorts at the absurdity of him sitting in a bubble bath, but his shoulders seem to relax when I take his hand in my much smaller one and appraise the damage. Before he can stop me, I hop up on the counter and reach for the soft cloth I gave him to clean the wounds and begin gently removing the blood he missed.
When I feel his other hand in my hair, I brace myself for him to fist it roughly between his fingers or reprimand me for overstepping my role with him. But he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers stroke through the loose pieces of my hair and find the elastic band holding it up. He pulls it out and lets my hair fall around my shoulders before sliding his fingers through it, gently stroking my scalp.
“Get in with me.” It’s a quiet demand, but still an order. It’s my turn to laugh at the visual he’s just presented.
“I won’t fit. You’ll barely fit on your own.” I cup his face in both of my hands before quickly leaning in to kiss his bottom lip with a feather light touch.
He grips my thighs, pushing them apart and pulling me flush against him. My dress rises and my panties rub against his hard cock that’s straining to be free of the confines of his underwear. “I meant what I said in the car, Ava. All night, no interruptions.”
“You were just in a fight with…” He presses his thumb to my mouth, dipping the tip inside to rub against my tongue.
“I’m compromising by getting in that bath with you,” he says as the fingers of his other hand work on the zipper on the back of my dress. He groans when I suck and lick on his thumb and grind my pussy against him. He tugs my dress down around my shoulders with his free hand and his lips fall to my shoulder.
I rock my hips up against him and let my nails slide down his muscular back. “You don’t compromise for anyone.” My voice is breathy, full of need and I’m sure he can hear how I’m barely keeping myself together. I want him so fucking bad.
Swiftly, he moves me from the counter to stand in front of him. I begin to take down my dress, but he stops me, seemingly wanting to do it himself. When he takes my bra off, he pauses to squeeze my breasts and pinch the hardened nipples before moving on to slide my panties down my thighs and let them drop to the floor.
“Are you wet for me, babygirl?” Killian’s voice is so low as his fingers travel down my belly and find my already soaked pussy. He doesn’t wait for me to answer him. Instead, he pulls me over to the bathtub and less than elegantly shucks off his underwear and settles his large frame beneath the sudsy water.
When I start to climb in with my back toward him, he stops me with a loud slap to my ass. “Other way,” he demands, and I oblige him. I turn and carefully step into the tub and allow him to brace my weight while I try to find my place on his lap.
“Fuck.” The word rumbles from his chest and into my neck as he presses his face there and my pussy slides against his wet dick. “Ava, I’ve gotta fuck you, baby.” He sounds so unlike himself, almost pleading with me as I shift my hips, teasing him.
I tilt his back this time when his hands find their way to my ass. He squeezes hard, grinding me against his throbbing cock. “Then fuck me, Kill,” I tell him, my voice raspy with want.
He bites my shoulder just as he scoots forward enough that I can be fully seated on his lap and my legs can wrap around him. Even though I’m worked up and so wet for him, my pussy is still tight around his thick girth. I cry out when he slams his hips up and moves his hands to my hips. Water splashes out of the tub and I arch back, moaning his name when his lips find one of my nipples.
“You feel so fucking good,” he grinds out the words, his cock filling me to the
