Chapter 25

Iwas on my way back from the bathroom when the fight broke out, leaving me stuck in the middle of it without any way out. I tried my best to stay out of the way, but it was hard. Everyone was fighting someone—even the Ironwood pack ladies were throwing punches. But they’d always been badass women to be envious of.

Me? I wanted nothing to do with it. I could verbally spar with the best of them when needed but a physical fight? No, thank you. I could think of a dozen or more things I’d rather do.

I scrambled, doing my best to get out of everyone’s way. It was easier said than done. The sea of movement around me was all-consuming. I kept my hands up like Killian had taught me—protect my head. Why was his voice the one in my head at a time like this?

Poor timing, that was what.

An arm locked around my waist, hauling me off my feet. I didn’t have a clue who it was as they dragged me out of the main bar and away from the insanity.

“Put me down!” I screeched, doing my best—and failing miserably—to free myself. “Put me down, put me down, put me down!”

My wolf growled, the violent sound tearing through my throat. How bad would it be if I shifted right there? Probably bad, especially if the person was human.

With me flailing, he carried me into one of the small pool rooms and slammed the door. The unmistakable sound of the door locking set me on edge. When my boots hit the floor, a hand snaked around my throat.

“Stop fucking fighting me, Genevieve,” Killian snarled. I froze as he pulled my back tight against him. “I’m saving your ass from getting fucking trampled out there!”

Oh…

“Why?” I asked stupidly. For all the fighting, I couldn’t imagine why he’d go out of his way to get me—especially since he broke up the fight only to start it all over again.

His hand slid up my neck and gripped my jaw so tight it hurt. My head wrenched to the side, and his lips crashed against mine. His mouth was brutal and unforgiving, his tongue driving between my lips. That scent of vanilla and tobacco made my head foggy while the taste of him burned through my body like liquid heat. Any resistance I had melted away. I sank into him, my hands clawing at his thighs to pull him closer.

His mouth tore away from mine, leaving me gasping and desperate for more. That hand on my jaw turned my head away.

“What’s the color code, Genevieve?” he growled. His nose ran down the column of my neck. I shuddered at the question. I knew what it meant. I knew what was coming.

And not a single part of me wanted to fight against it. My body was primed for him. That hand around my throat, the power in his voice, the demand of his mouth. There wasn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do for him if he ordered it. I didn’t know how.

“Red to stop, yellow to slow down.”

“And?”

“Green to keep going,” I whispered. His hand tightened around my neck.

“Good girl,” he said. “Do you want me to stop, or do you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are, dancing around with those other men while wearing my collar? I’m going to remind you who you belong to when you wear that collar. Say the word, princess. Tell me you want me to stop.”

He said it as if he needed to hear me say it was okay—as if he was holding back. I didn’t want that. I wanted the reminder. My body craved the reminder. Whatever the repercussions later, I wanted him now. I wanted to feel him own me all over again. No one would be able to do to my body what he did.

“Please,” I whimpered, my voice rasping in my throat against his hand.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Sir.”

“Cheek to the wall, princess, palms flat at shoulder height,” he ordered as he released my neck, and I obeyed. His hand flattened between my shoulders, pushing me against the wood. My entire body thrummed with anticipation and memory of what he could do to me. Heat pooled between my thighs. God, I wanted this. “Not a sound. No one gets to hear you come but me.”

His hands ran over my sides and grabbed my hips. In one rough movement, he adjusted them and thrust against my ass. I moaned at the feel of his hard dick against me, unable to help myself.

His palm came down hard on my ass while he pushed me further into the wall.

“I said not a sound,” Killian growled. “Are you going to listen, or do you need a reminder of how this works?”

“No, Sir.” I bit my lip and nodded. If he wanted it, I’d do it.

“Good girl.” His hands rounded my hips and slid under the hem of my shirt. I silently thanked God for the skimpy top that gave him easy access to everything. He dragged his palms up my stomach and over my ribs, taking his time. My skin was on fire. It took everything I had to stay quiet, but I nearly lost it when his thumbs flicked over the curved barbells in my nipples. When he did it a second time, I buried my face in the wall and swallowed a moan. “Does my dirty little princess enjoy showing off for all the men out there? Dressed like a goddamn slut and showing off these perfect tits.”

His teeth sank into my shoulder as he gave my piercings a tiny tug. The deliciously painful sensation surged straight to my core. I pressed back against him, desperate for him to touch me. My pussy throbbed, and I needed more.

“There she is,” he murmured. His tongue ran up the side of my neck. His breath was hot on my ear as he whispered, “There’s my desperate little fuck toy. Tell me, princess, are your nipples the only thing you got pierced?”

I shook my head. He leaned back enough to crack his hand across my ass, and I bit back a yelp. God, I was so close to coming without him ever touching me.

“Use your words, or I’ll make it hurt more than you like,” Killian warned. And he would. He knew my threshold, and he knew how to push me right over it as punishment.

“No, Sir,” I said.

“Good girl, princess.” Oh, I missed those words. I missed hearing him whisper those words over and over every time I did what he asked. His hands ran a hot trail down my sides, and he tugged my ass snugly against him. I was practically vibrating as he undid the buttons on my pants and pushed them down.

I did my best to hold still despite how badly I wanted to move against him—to tempt him while his fingers teased the lace on my panties. Build-up and teasing were Killian’s thing. My attempts to make him go any faster would only make him slow down. Even with a bar full of people outside the door, nothing would make him go any faster. He’d leave me wanting rather than give me what I wanted if I tried.

“Fuck.” A deep growl ripped through him as the pads of his fingers trailed over the front of my panties. Thin lace did nothing to hide how wet I was. I inhaled sharply, struggling to contain myself, even as his other hand dug into my hip. “Don’t you fucking move. I don’t care how fucking greedy you are, princess. You’ll take only what I give you, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” I let out. The brat in me whispered tempting encouragements to do otherwise. One little roll of my hips would have his fingers on my clit. I wanted that. I needed it. The tension and pressure inside me was agonizing.

He slid my panties to the side, and his fingers hovered—not touching but almost. I bit down harder on my lip. This was torture. He was right there and testing my resolve to obey.

“Does this drive you crazy, princess?” Killian demanded. His teeth tugged on my ear.

“Yes.”

“Did you forget your training, princess? If I ask you one more time to respond to my question properly, I’m done,” he told me. A threat he’d follow through with. And no amount of masturbating would give me the kind of relief he could. “Does this drive you crazy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he snarled. “It doesn’t come close to how fucking crazy it makes me to watch my submissive dance around and flirt with other men. That’s my collar, princess. Did you forget that?”

“No, Sir,” I said.

“And who do you belong to when you’re wearing it?”

“You, Sir.” But he was wrong. Taking off the collar didn’t change that—a fact I was painfully aware of. Removing the collar would never change that.

“That’s right,” Killian replied. “You’re mine, Genevieve. You’re my little fuck toy, you’re my submissive, and you’re my wife. Every one of your orgasms belongs to me, do you understand? You ask me to come. Don’t you fucking come unless I permit you, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” I practically whined. The relief was damn near instant as the pads of two fingers rolled over my clit. My orgasm surged, and I sank my teeth so hard into my lip I almost drew blood. I’d always been a touch-sensitive person. Once I was comfortable with the idea, it became very easy for me to come, but my VCH brought it to a whole new level.

“Jesus fuck, you pierced your clit.” Pain and pleasure deliciously collided as he gave the curved barbell a slight tug. My stomach contracted and my thighs shook as I desperately tried to contain it.

“Please, let me come, Sir,” I begged breathlessly. I couldn’t hold on much longer.

“Not yet. You can take more,” Killian said. The rate at which he swirled his fingers over my clit increased. A tiny gasp caught in my throat. His free hand snaked around my neck and locked tight, cutting off my airway. The temperature in the room skyrocketed as my eyes drifted shut. I drifted deliriously into that euphoric place only his hand around my throat could provide. My body melted as I surrendered completely. “Come for me, princess. Stop holding back, and come for me.”

His permission shattered the flimsy boundaries I had in place. I came hard, gasping and panting as his hand loosened around my throat. My body trembled as I sagged against the wall for support. The zipper of his pants sparked through my body like lightning—every part of me hungry for his dick. He yanked my panties down to my knees, and his fingers dug into my hips as he lined his dick up. With a single thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. I gasped with the fullness of him. God, I’d forgotten how big he was.

His hand clamped over my mouth with a possessive growl.

“Not a fucking sound,” Killian ordered. “Those sounds you make are for me. No one else gets to hear you come, or I won’t let you come at all. Do you want me to let you come on my cock, princess?”

I nodded against his hand.

“Then be a good girl and stay quiet while I fuck you,” he snapped as he drove into me over and over at an unrelenting pace. Fingers bruised my hips, skin slapping against skin, his teeth in my shoulder. I was a frenzied mess, meeting every thrust of his hips in kind.

My muscles fluttered and pulsated as I clung to the edge. He hadn’t given me permission to come. But God I needed to. So absolutely desperately needed that release all over again.

“Please, Sir,” I whispered, my breath ragged in my throat. That strong hand wrapped around my neck once more and squeezed tight. My breath caught in my chest as I fell back into that daze he graciously offered. His other hand cupped my center and teased my piercing.

“Come for me, princess,” Killian growled in my ear. “Come all over my cock like the good girl I know you want to be.”

One tiny tug on my barbell was all it took, and I was wrecked. I came undone for him, my body violently shaking. He pushed me roughly into the wall as he lost control, driving hard into me and riding the high too. His hips jerked against my ass erratically, and he bottomed out, staying there as he came with a groan.

That hand around my neck vanished, and I gulped down several deep breaths of air. My body hummed with a million little sensations, and the room swayed unsteadily.

Killian ran his hands down my sides once before pulling away. His ragged breathing matched mine. I just needed a minute—just a moment to catch myself before I dared to ask him what the hell any of this meant.

But without a word, he walked away, slamming the door behind him and leaving me half-naked with his cum trickling down my thighs. I leaned against the wall for support as a sob tore through me. This man was going to wreck me—thoroughly and completely all over again. I could feel it in my heart and my soul.

And I’d let him.