Chapter 17

Tori Townsend

With one hand, I slide the plate into my palm from the counter, and with the other, I grab the mug of steaming coffee. I know making him eggs and toast isn't the best apology, but there haven't been many things in my life that I've had to apologize for. I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to any ‘I'm sorry' gestures.

I could barely sleep last night. Hell, I was so embarrassed by the whole thing that I walked inside instead of waiting to see how the Pierce and Killian conversation ended. I couldn't hear what they were saying anyway, but I could tell that it wasn't a pleasant conversation. It was a conversation that likely had to do with me – by the way Pierce had been flicking his gaze in my direction. That was embarrassing too, knowing I was the topic of choice. I seem to be everyone's topic of choice lately.

I don't know how I manage it, but I somehow get the door open and uneasily make my way to the B&B front door. Once there, I bite my bottom lip and try to figure out how I'm going to knock on it when my hands are full. It makes me feel like an idiot, but I use my foot to knock, and it sounds more like I'm trying to break in than asking for access to the person inside.

It doesn't take long for the door to open, and standing there in nothing but his briefs is Killian. I can't help the way my eyes rake his body, tracing the hills and plains and the way the tattoos wrap around them. The nipple piercings glisten in the morning sun, and the scabs from our sex look to be healing nicely. The piercings aren't the only things that glisten. He's covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and by the way his veins are pronounced, he'd been working out.

And then there's the bulge between his legs… That bulge that twitches under the weight of my stare.

I gulp and slowly raise my gaze to his. "Hi," I squeak because who the hell could talk normally when he looks so damn edible? He isn't a fucking snack. He's a four-course meal.

"Hey," he rumbles. He places his hand on the door frame and leans a little weight into it. His corded muscles ripple, and it takes everything in me not to watch them shift.

Somehow, and don't ask me how because I have no idea, I manage to get my wits about me and raise the plate and the mug. "I have breakfast."

His eyebrows lift into his forehead. "For me?"

I nod, and he grins a small smile. "To apologize for last night."

Under his smile, he considers me for a moment before stepping aside. I nibble my bottom lip, wondering if I should even go inside or just pass him the plate. He waits as I make my decision, probably wondering what's going through my head that might explain why I haven't entered yet, but eventually, I give in. Even though I know it's a bad idea, I step inside his rented space.

The bed isn't made, so I imagine he hasn't been up long. A couple of pieces of clothing are lying on the floor like he stripped out of them last night after the shitshow that happened as he walked to the bed.

I twist my lips at the sight of them and say, "You know, I do have a washer and dryer you could use."

"I don't want to bother you, so I've been buying from Derek's store."

I turn to face him as I set the plate and mug on the table. "I have a perfectly good washer and dryer that you can use. You don't have to keep spending money, especially since I know that backpack of yours won't carry much more than what's stuffed in there."

My gaze drifts to the backpack that's brimming to its limit. I get the feeling it's always packed, so I don't mention anything about that. Instead, I say, "I really am sorry about last night. You have to know that I don't think you'd ever do such a thing."

From the corner of my eye, I see him shrug, so I drift my attention back to him. The way he's looking at me, the heat in his eyes as they rake over my body, makes me squirm a little. Warmth pools in my lower abdomen when he takes a step in my direction, and then another, a predator confidently stalking a prey that's too captivated to even move. "I really am sorry," I mutter again as he stands before me.

"Stop saying that," he huskily demands.

"I'm only saying it because I mean it," I murmur back. My mind goes to places… places that make my panties immediately wet. I squeeze my thighs together and hope like hell that I won't have a wet patch on my white shorts .

"You know what I think?" he asks, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck and tugging the roots of my hair at the nape. I all but moan, and my eyelids flutter as the sting of pain shoots right to my clit.

I shake my head.

"I think you came here to apologize, but you're staying because you can't stop imagining what a second time with me would be like. What it'd feel like. What core memory it'd make." He leans to whisper in my ear. "How I'd fucking destroy you and then ask you to go about your day with my cum drying between your legs."

Oh god. I shiver, and it only serves to prove him right. He chuckles and nips at my jaw. This time, the sting zaps straight to my nipples, and they pebble through my thin bra.

"Have you eaten?" he asks against my skin.

I shake my head again because there's no point in lying to him. I do, however, fail to admit that I've decided to try intermittent fasting. It was a decision I made last night while I lay in bed, unable to sleep after the night's events.

A low growl rumbles up his chest like he knows that I'm trying something new to lose weight. He barely knows me, yet he knows me.

Stepping away, he orders, "Take off your shorts and get on the table."

"What?"

A ghost of a smile tugs at the edges of his lips. "You're going to eat, and so am I."

I glance at the plate full of the food that I made solely for him. "But-"

He takes my chin and steers my attention back to him. "Take off your shorts, Tori, or I'll find a knife and cut them from you." He gives a small shake of his head, and for a second, his eyes downcast and skate over my body. When they return to mine, he adds, "And I won't be gentle."

Goosebumps rise over my skin, and just for a moment, I consider defying him just so I can experience that moment and have it live rent-free in my head. But then I find myself pushing my shorts and underwear down.

I kick them aside as he heads to the table and takes a seat in front of the plate. He scoots the plate to his left and pats the spot on the table where the plate was sitting only a second ago. "Sit," he orders.

Nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach, but again, I do what he asks. I cross the distance, slide between him and the table, and sit. Surprisingly, the table holds my weight.

"Now what?" I ask, my voice shaking with anticipation.

He wraps his palms against the top of my ass and scoots me to the edge. The slickness of my pussy slides against the table until he's satisfied with my position. And then he grips my knees and slowly spreads open my thighs. He takes in my dripping pussy with a hungry gaze. Heat pools and settles in my lower abdomen because that damn look . . .

With a lick of his lips like a starving man, he says, "Eat."

In the next second, he bends forward and nips my inner thighs, right at the juncture of my pussy. My thighs quiver for a moment, and I have the sudden urge to grip the back of his head and guide him to where I want him so desperately. It's hard, but I exercise patience.

Lazily, and as if he's taking his first lick of an ice cream cone, he skims my pussy with the edge of his tongue. When he reaches my clit, he nips it. I suck in a sharp breath, but it's cut short as his mouth latches onto the tight, throbbing bud that's begged for attention since the moment he opened my thighs. I inhale sharply at the sudden sensation and then moan when his tongue flicks against it, taking away the sting of his nip.

I lean back, balancing on the heel of my palms, and tip my head toward the ceiling as he sucks and flicks to the same song as my rapid-beating heart. Shuddering breaths escape me as he tugs on the most sensitive spot on my body with his mouth.

It's a reflex when I attempt to close my thighs around his head, making sure he doesn't move a damn inch, but he grasps my knees again and forces them apart, forcing me to take everything he's delivering.

My toes curl and uncurl, and my mouth falls open with a loud, tortured moan.

And then he stops.

My head whips up to look at him, an immediate protest on my tongue. His mouth and chin are coated in my arousal, and he must know that I'm about to beg him to keep going because he tips his eyes toward the forgotten plate by my hip. "Eat, or you won't get to cum."

I snap my mouth shut and glare at him. To test me or to tease me more, I'm not sure which one, he shoves a finger inside me and crooks it to massage that secret little spot. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head, but his voice keeps me from completely falling apart. "Eat, Tori."

The slickness of my inner walls is telling him just how much I want this as he moves his fingers around inside me. Shakily, I pick up the fork and dip it into the eggs. Once I bring it to my mouth, he smirks like a cat who's got the cream and moves between my legs again.

He doesn't remove his fingers while the flat of his tongue slowly slides along my clit. I moan as I chew, and the sound is cut off when I swallow .

"Again," he orders against my soft flesh, his lips tickling.

I do exactly what he asks because I'll be damned if he stops. As a reward, he inserts another finger, and that delicious stretch and pressure makes my legs squeeze around him again.

His fingernails dig slightly into my knees, and his eyes lock with mine as he rumbles, "You'll eat, and you'll take every ounce I give you, Tori. Understood?"

Swallowing my bite, I nod and loosen my thighs once more. He dives between them and latches back on, and even though I barely register that I'm doing it, I eat.

Heat builds so heavily in my lower abdomen that my stomach tightens. I moan and groan around mouthfuls while I watch him feast on me. That sight alone makes my blood boil with pure, undiluted pleasure.

Every inch of my legs quivers and clench, and I beg him over and over again to not stop, to keep going. And when I explode against his face, the fork clatters against the plate, all but forgotten.

My abrupt scream as I orgasm makes my throat raw. My pussy walls tighten around his moving and crooked fingers, and my clit pulses against his tongue as he pulls every ounce out of me. I cum for what feels like forever, but he's patient and greedy and rides out the entire thing with me. And when I slump backward against the heels of my palms, his tongue slides down and licks up the mess I just created at my entrance.

Sliding his fingers out, he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean as he stands. I watch with hooded, sated eyes while he pushes down his briefs and frees his rock-hard length. He grabs my hips, lines himself up, and pushes inside with one smooth motion .

"Oh my god," I moan out because that stretch and pressure of his cock is even more delicious than his fingers.

"Fuck," he hisses. His fingers are bruising my hips as he holds onto what appears to be sanity. "You're still pulsing."

Together, we watch as he pulls out, glistening, and pushes back in. His entire length is swallowed by my pussy, and aside from feeling it, just witnessing it is better than anything I've drummed up when I take care of myself.

The table groans as he picks up the pace until he's slamming into me. Knowing exactly what he likes, I take the fork and drag the pointed edges down his chest to just above the scabs from the other night. His eyelids flutter as welts rise across his skin, and he whispers his pleasure in words that I can't understand.

I do it again and again while he pounds into me, leaving trails of red that are almost masked by the tattoos. Muscles ripple and shift as I take him in. This powerful man, this man with so many secrets, could break me in more ways than one. Instead of being scared of it like any normal person, I embrace it. At least, for this moment, while he is slamming into me and his cock rubs just the right spot.

My lower abdomen coils, and my breath picks up pace. Aside from the sound of our bodies joining together, all I can hear is my blood rushing through my ears. I can't take my eyes off my pussy swallowing his cock. I can't think of anything else but the way this feels.

I'm so close, so damn close, and I'm just about to raise my gaze and tell him that when he reaches between us and presses a thumb to my clit. It's enough to send me crashing into my orgasm. The fork clatters to the ground, and I grab his forearms as I scream once again.

I barely hear his deep groan while my pussy ripples and milks his cock. He moves faster, slamming into me so hard that the table moves with us. He lifts his gaze away from our union and locks them with mine. His lips part, and his eyebrows pull together, and then he's pulling out. I watch with interest as he pumps himself the rest of the way. His cum spurts out and hits me on the top of my pussy and all over my inner thighs, and I freaking live for it.

When he's finished, he smears his cum all over my inner thighs like frosting then puts his wet fingers to my lips. "Eat," he orders with so much heat in those damn words that I open my mouth and suck his cum off his fingers. Salt explodes on my tongue, and I swallow, refusing to take my eyes off his. While I clean his fingers, he hums in approval.

Eventually, he pulls them out and replaces them with his lips, giving me one, lingering kiss.

And my heart fucking melts.