“Killian,” she cried out, fingernails digging into my shoulders.
A gruff groan emerged, and I pulled back then thrust into her. Once. Twice.
Our eyes locked as our bodies became one, moving together in perfect harmony. It was slow at first, and then when her thigh tightened around my hip, and her hand ran down my back to my ass, that was it… the regulator busted.
I thrust faster. Harder. My mouth crashing into hers, fingers fisting a handful of hair.
She panted beneath me.
Rough.
Raw.
Raging.
As if neither of us could get enough of one another. We both lost control and grabbed at one another in a frenzy of need. Mouths and hands everywhere.
Starved. That was what I’d been for years.
I’d been denied. No, I’d denied myself. I hadn’t thought this was possible. I’d been too fucked up and angry and had never wanted that attachment. To risk losing again.
But whatever happened, I’d always protect her.
Her sex clenched around my cock. Muscle spasms then short gasps before she screamed, “Killian. Yes!”
I thrust faster several more times before my cock jerked and I joined her. “Fuck,” I growled, coming like I never had before. “Jesus. Christ.”
It was several minutes before either of us moved. My forehead rested on her shoulder, her hand in my hair as we lay quiet except for our panting and the sound of the sheets crinkling as our chests rose heavily.
Finally, I raised my head.
She opened her eyes. They were gentle and lazy, and her lips were swollen from my kisses. With a red chin from my stubble, she looked completely sated.
I ran my hand down her side to her thigh and lowered it off my shoulder, and her other leg slipped off my hip. My cock remained nestled inside her where it was meant to be. Where it was always meant to be.
I lowered my head and kissed her, taking my time.
Savoring. Tasting. Enjoying the laziness about it. I’d never kissed a woman like that before. I rarely kissed a woman period. It didn’t do anything for me.
It was her. Kissing Savvy for the first time at the cemetery… innocent and sweet, and her mouth easily melding to mine, nothing compared to that kiss.
And now… fuckin’ now it was as if for years my lips had been cold and lifeless, and now they’d woke the fuck up and were alive with her kisses.
I lifted and stared down at her flushed face and glazed eyes.
This. Right fuckin’ here. I’d never had it. But I wanted all of it.
With her.
But I wasn’t going to define this. Not to her anyway. I had my issues and she’d had a taste of them, and I knew I’d have to give her more of me. The parts of me I kept hidden. Emmitt. She needed to know about Emmitt.
My fuckin’ father was something I didn’t want to share with her, only because I didn’t want her touched by it, but Savvy with me was going to be thrown in the path. She’d had a taste of that at Compass.
I’d protect her from him. And soon, he’d break. Like he did to his horses, I was breaking him.
And him showing up at the club was a sign he was getting desperate. His clubs were hurting.
“Why are you so tense?” she asked, her finger tracing the crease between my brows.
I relaxed, pushing my father out of my head. I was good at doing that, had done it for years.
Lowering, I kissed the corner of her mouth on each side then lifted and rolled off her. Getting out of bed, I then dealt with the condom.
When I came out of the bathroom, she was naked on her side, perched up on her elbow watching me as I approached the bed. And I fuckin’ loved it. I loved how her gaze trailed over me and there was a tiny smile on her lips.
“You have a lot of tattoos,” she said, her voice a little scratchy and husky as if she’d just woken.
“Mmm.” I slid onto the bed beside her, not ready to leave yet even though my phone was probably going crazy with texts and calls from the guys because we were late for brunch.
I bent one knee and put my arm above her head so I could play with her hair. She ran her fingertips over the tattoo on my neck. “Is this a hawk?”
“No. It’s a black kite.”
“That’s a bird?”
She continued to trace the spread wings that curved up my neck. “It’s a bird of prey. You see the tail?”
She nodded. “It’s forked.”
“Yes. What makes them distinct from others.”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“My first tattoo. It was done in a guy’s basement when I was seventeen. Ream knew him and he had done a few of his. The guy has his own shop now and is so busy you can’t get in to see him for months. He did most of mine, but a few I had done while on tour.”