19-Drunk

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Words other than promises to kiss me were trivial to me. I was drugged, blissful and clueless to my surroundings. I wanted something from him that he wasn't giving. 

"I sent David after you," he whispered in my neck, "I was ready to buy you at any pr-" he stopped talking when he noticed my hands roaming his chest up and down. Having no care for his words. The feeling of ripped muscles against my palms was driving me over the edge. I was developing some new found appreciation of the male body while he was unfolding rather important truths to me. But did I care? No. I only had one thought in mind : He was magnificent and I craved him. Like forbidden fruit. The sheer power and raw strength in him. His clothes were starting to frustrate me. I wanted skin to skin contact, I was ready to rip my own skirt and panties off and throw them out. I tugged on his collar to undo the top button and could finally see the base of his neck. I saw a chain glimmer underneath the rest of the buttons as well as the edge of a tattoo I've noticed earlier this morning. But before I could unbutton the rest of them, he leaned back again the chair and unbuckled his belt. 

I watched as he slid the belt completely out of his pants. I thought he was finally upholding his promise of "Doing it later" but instead he grabbed both of my wrists in his big hand and tied them firmly together behind my back. My chest rose up and my back arched. I didn't understand what he was doing except perhaps he was stopping my hands from fondling him while he was trying to talk to me.

He took a sip off his glass of whiskey while leaning back against the chair, eying me carefully, admiring his work. I was a sight for his pleasure, all tied up, bra exposed through ripped blouse and face flushed red from the drug. Aching for him. In the most tempting, alluring position he could imagine. He enjoyed it for a split second, every lewd thought running in his head and reaching me through his intense gaze, but then, redundant anger took over him like a wave.

I saw his hand reach for my hair and roughly grab a hold. He leaned in dangerously, his lips only mere inches from mine.

"Couldn't you have let yourself be bought quietly?" he spit out, his bicep muscles stiffened when he painfully tightened his grip on my hair, as if to punish me, but in that moment the pain was almost pleasurable, his grip was tight enough for me to feel his annoyance but he seemed aware that it was wrongfully misplaced. "You had to run off and make a mess.." he pulled lightly and my head tilted back, causing me to whimper. That move exposed my windpipe to him; he leaned down and dropped wet kisses all over my neck. I shivered. Some part of me basking in delight at the thought of Alpha Killian kissing me, some other part wanting him to stop being mad at me for whatever reason, and in the midst of all that muddle, his thoughts echoed in my own head. Loud and clear as if he had said them to me.

"Pull away from her!" 

I had heard and it pierced me like a thorn.

Granted, I was fed, his mission was over, all he needed to do was get me off of him and let me sleep the drugs off. I was limp enough that, if he were to simply remove his hands from me, I'd let gravity grab its rightful hold on my body, fall on the ground and sleep for eternity. But his grip on my waist was as firm as ever, not intending on letting go and I was drained enough to want to lazily stay in his arm for as long as he wanted to hold me.

I let my head slump on his shoulder and buried my face in his shirt while I whimpered. Being cut by his harsh words was one thing; I was getting hurt by his thoughts now?

He patted my head and leaned back on the chair with me in his arms.

"I should not have sought after you." he said to himself, rocking me left and right in his desk chair, and I felt those words physically slit into my skin. Confessions could have been slipping through his fingers due to the alcohol as much as he could have been doing so purposely for the thrill, the tiny possibility of me remembering his words after the drugs faded. Perhaps he wanted to fuel the tension between us some more, ignite a bigger fire within me, maybe even an entire blast. He always threw hurtful words my way and thrived on my livid reaction.

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