A Vow Of Hate

Since he took Ragna away, a week ago, I barely even spoke a word to him. Selene had been right to warn me about him. She told me Killian would drag out all my vulnerabilities and use my weaknesses against me. I had been a fool to think that I could handle Killian Spencer and come out of this battle unscathed.

A fool who had been in love.

A fool who believed in second chances in life.

A fool who had thought she’d find redemption.

But I wasn’t foolish to think that Killian was done with me. No, he still found ways to insult me, to humiliate me, to take away all the little things that made me happy.

William went on about the masquerade ball, telling us how he expected the night to go and then the conversation had moved to their work, talking about Killian’s upcoming campaign for senator, which had nothing to do with me.

So, I sat back against my chair and just nodded along.

But even then, Killian didn’t grant me peace. He really was a thorn stuck under my flesh. His thumb circled my knee and I frowned. What the hell?

His touch was tentative, almost teasing. Shocked, I found myself growing still as his fingers drifted past the slit in my dress, until his callous hand was on my bare skin. Gooseflesh peppered my skin and my breath hitched.

Oh God. What was he doing?

My eyes darted to William, but he was unaware of his son’s intention. I gripped the table’s edge when his fingers inched higher toward the juncture of my thighs.

My legs clenched, only to end up trapping his hand between my thighs, and Killian grinned.

I should have stopped him. I really should have, but it was the way he caressed me that made me pause. Tenderly. Deceptively gentle. Teasingly.

Aside from the two kisses we had share, Killian hasn’t touched me in any other way. He had told me very early on that he was disgusted by the idea of touching me; what changed now?

So, I knew… for the sake of my own sanity, I should have stopped him.

But I didn’t.

Because I was glutton for punishment.

And because even though my husband was a brutal man, I craved his touch. Filled with longing, I allowed him to do as he pleased.

Call me weak; call me spineless – but you wouldn’t understand. I had my reasons.

I let out a barely audible gasp when Killian reached my satin panties. My belly pooled with warmth and my core tightened, feeling suddenly so empty. When was the last time I enjoyed my own pleasure and brought myself to orgasm? I couldn’t remember…

Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t been touched for so long, or perhaps it was just because I craved intimacy so much – I was aroused beyond belief.

To be touched by this cruel man and to allow myself to enjoy it, while his father sat there, eating lunch and conversing with his son – I really was a fool.

Killian dragged his index finger over my wet slit through my panties. My heart hammered at the delicious sensation rippling through my body. Carefully, he tugged my panties to the side and cool air wafted over my fevered flesh, wetness dripping between my thighs and down the crack of my asshole.

My breath hitched when his fingers brushed against my core. Holy shit. Oh God! With exquisite tenderness, he parted my wet folds, his thumb grazing my hardened nub. A soft whimper left me and I bit my lip, holding back the moan that threatened to escape my throat.

Stop him, my mind screamed.

Don’t, my body begged.

It felt so good, even though it was so wrong. I wanted to cry; I wanted to plead for mercy; I wanted him to stop, but I needed him to continue.

I sounded maddening even to myself. So, how could I ever explain myself to anyone? To make them understand me?

The pulse between my legs was almost unbearable at this point and I feared that I might just orgasm at the table. How horrifying, yet still… I didn’t stop Killian.

It was like all my senses had left me and I was left with a greedy body that needed his caress more than anything.

Killian continued his conversation with his father, with all the epitome of calmness. He was so contained while I was so… out of control.

His thumb moved in circles, massaging my flesh, a knowing smirk plastered over his lips. My clit swelled and throbbed under his thumb as he rubbed and pressed against the bundle of nerves. White hot pleasure ripped through me. There weren’t butterflies in my stomach; it was pure fire burning through my veins.

My hips moved against my will, chasing his caress with my wanton need. I could feel just how wet and sticky I was.

My thighs quivered and my body tightened, on the precipice of orgasm. Almost frantically, I grasped his wrist, forcing him to stop. Killian’s knowing fingers slowed to a pause, but he kept his hand between my legs, inside my panties.