"Oi!" I shriek.
"Hm, didn't think rock was your type of music." Killian says.
I reach for my bud, but he ducks back, away from me, slapping my hand away. I growl. "Give me back my AirPod."
"I don't know..." He pretends to think. "I kind of like it."
I cock my head, staring up at him through my eyebrows. "Give it." I grit, reaching for it again. He slaps my hand away. "Killian." I warn.
"Yes?" He smirks. He knows what he's doing.
"Give. It. Back."
He seems to think. Then, "No."
I tackle him, ready to pin him to the floor, but he twists us, me landing on the floor. I grunt, expecting for the impact, but his hand blocks my head from the concrete floor. He hovers over me.
I snatch my AirPod from him and shove him off. He sits back on his forearms. "Rude."
I put my AirPods away, so he can't take them again, and turn to him. "What do you want?"
"You're going to show me what all you know, remember?" He pushes himself to his feet.
I sigh. "Does it have to be today?"
"Yes. I'll be busy, and with Christmas—"
"Okay, okay. I get it." I cut him off. I blow out a breath and turn to him. "What do you want to know?" I walk toward him. Suddenly, I'm slapping his fist away. I point a finger in his face. "That was rude."
He strikes again, my hand slapping his away.
"Stop it."
He does it again.
"Quit."
Again.
"Killian, do not toy with me."
Again.
"Cut it out."
Again.
My anger flares and I have him pinned against a wall. "I said stop it!" I yell, my fangs elongating. He smirks, then it drops, and he grabs me by my neck, lifting me up and slamming me against the floor. I hit my head, then lift myself onto my forearms, glaring up at him.
"Are you really gonna use your fangs as a threat? That will get you killed." He says, matter-of-factly. "One wooden bullet to the heart, and you're dead."
My nostrils flare, my teeth grinding. I lift my leg and kick him in the balls, watching as he crumbles to his knees. I then stand up, roundhouse kicking him in the face. He groans, falling.
"I survived my heart being ripped out of my chest. A measly bullet is nothing." I hiss.
He looks up at me, blood dripping from his mouth. He spit it out, wiping his nose. He gets to his feet, looking at me from the side of his eye as he faces the ring. He wipes the side of his mouth with his thumb, wipes it on his jeans.
Who the hell wears jeans in a gym?
He turns to me, chuckling. "That the best you got?"
My face darkens, and he notices. I charge, swinging for his face, but he catches both wrists, so I result to my head. I headbutt him, his grip letting go. I lift one leg and kick him in the stomach, watching as he falls.
He covers his nose, snapping it back into place. It heals and he stops bleeding. He's on his feet quicker than I can blink, hurling me up against the wall.
I bite my lip, squeezing my eyes shut against the pounding in my head. Then I open my eyes, looking up at Killian. He holds me in place, his body covering mine.
His hand moves to my face, his thumb pulling my lip out from my teeth. My eyes shift, lingering on his lips, then back up. He notices.
We both breathe heavily, our heartbeats mixing, beating as one. He glances at my lips, his eyes staying for a second too long, and I can't help it. I press my lips to his, relishing in the smooth, warmth his lips hold.
I pull back, his eyes still shut. When he opens them, they're hooded, full of desire. And I crave it. He picks me up, my hands cupping his face as I slam my lips against his.
He sends some type of euphoric feeling through my body, and I yearn for more of it. A heat pools in my stomach as he walks, heading somewhere unknown. He opens and kicks a door shut, pinning me against a wall.
I gasp as he kisses a trail down my neck. I move his head back and our lips mold together, fitting together as if they were made for us.
He lays me down on something soft and he goes back to kissing my neck, sucking in one particular spot. A breath leaves me as my fingers run through his hair.
Turns out, his hair is soft and fluffy. Feels like a cloud.
He pulls back and I sit up. "Are you sure—"
I place a finger to his lips. "Shh, don't talk." I whisper. I peel my shirt up over my head, discarding it. Then he follows.
Thankfully, he listens to me, not saying another word. He lays me down, grinding against me. I let out a breathy moan at the feeling. His lips are back on mine, our tongues raging war on opposing sides to see who will win.
He does.
I trail my hands down his chest, to his waistband. I fidget with it, enjoying the thrill his groan sends through me. I pull away to utter, "Skip the foreplay."
He nods, tugging off his pants. I do the same, tossing them. He leads a trail, kissing down my chest, through the valley of my breasts. Then he moves back up, pressing his lips to mine again. He distracts me with his lips, his touch, sliding my hands up toward my head, as he slips inside, my moan being muffled by his mouth.
He holds my hands, my nails digging into his skin as he slowly pulls out, only to push back in.
I may not be a virgin, but I haven't had sex in a long time.
I pull away, letting out a moan as his movements gradually speed up. I cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. "Don't hold back." My voice comes out breathless, but his gaze darkens at my words.
And he doesn't.
He slams into me, lifting one of my legs and pinning it to his waist. He fucks me at a different angle, my moans growing louder. His mouth muffles them, ensuring I stay quiet.
There's an ocean building inside of me. An ocean of euphoria, and I'm drowning in it. I'm being smothered in it, but it's not bad. I enjoy it, and I don't want it to end.
My nails claw at his back as he pounds into me, making me feel full. He whispers words of praise, but also of degradation, a mix of both. And God, I never want it to end.
A knot forms in my stomach as he keeps going, my mind falling drunk. Drunk on his taste, on his touch. On him.
The knot grows until it can't anymore, my orgasm hitting me harder than ever. He comes at the same time, falling on top of me – but not smothering me – while breathing heavily. Sweat coats our skin as we catch our breaths.
He still hasn't pulled out of me.
He kisses my shoulder, my collarbone. Then he kisses me again. I push him, sitting up. He pulls his cock out of me, hovering over me as he kisses me, not stopping. As if we don't need oxygen to breathe.
I pull away and move to the top of the bed. "'Nother round?" I quirk a brow, smirking.
"Yes, ma'am." And we fall into the sheets once more.
