Page 32 of Killian (The Doherty Mafia)
He thrust again. Our bodies slammed together. My back was against the hard cold wall, but I wasn’t cold at all. I was burning up.
I cried out again when he pulled out and plowed into me. I looked at his face. He stared deep into my eyes. I didn’t know what he was trying to find. I hoped he didn’t find it.
He thrusted again, quickly picking up a rhythm that sent my body soaring high above.
“Yes. Yes. Yes!” I cried out. “Harder. Fuck me harder. Please.”
He obliged.
His cock went in deeper. Harder. Stronger. I reached down between our bodies so I could flick my clit.
It felt so good, like nothing had ever been before. I wasn’t thinking. My mind was black. Dark. But empty.
The harder he fucked me, the less I thought. Our breaths mingled. He covered my mouth with his, sucking and slurping my bottom lip. At that moment, he possessed me completely and I wanted to belong to him.
Nobody had ever made me feel like this before.
His thrusts became faster and I knew I was just about balanced on the edge of my orgasm.
“Come for me, you beautiful thing,” he murmured softly in my ear.
The contrast of his soft voice with the way he plowed into my body was too much to handle. I dug my nails into his strong muscular back, looked into his eyes and came.
He groaned under his breath with another deep thrust and then he came too.
We were staring into each other’s eyes as we came. I felt his seed shoot deep inside me, filling me up. My juices were damp between my thighs.
I was deliriously joyous at that moment. Like nothing else mattered. Not the past and not the future.
I didn’t care what happened to me after this.
Seventeen
Killian
I hadn’t spoken about what happened to my mother with anybody in years. Not since it actually happened.
My brothers, father and I had discussed it with almost mechanical precision. Like a procedure we needed to take care of. We had to eliminate the DiMaggios and we executed that plan.
Since then, every thought I had about the night my mother died was bottled up inside me. The guilt I felt. The pain. The memory of her. The loss.
Everything was locked away.
It wasn’t something I indulged in, talking about my feelings. It was a weakness and I never let it show. It had changed me for life and I knew there was no coming back from it.
I had lost the person I loved most in this world. The only person I had allowed myself to love. And it was my fault. I was the oldest son. My father had left me in charge, and I had slept in my room when the men came in and took our mother’s life.
I would never forgive myself for that.
And I didn’t understand what made me talk about it with Reese all these years later.
Maybe it was because she was my prisoner and I had control over everything she did and said. Maybe it was because I knew she had very little opportunity to ever repeat it to someone else.
Or maybe—and this was a theory that was beginning to dawn on me but I didn’t want to admit—it was because I’d never met anyone like her.
There was something about the way she looked at me that made me want to keep talking to her.
It was like she understood. Like she actually gave a shit about how I felt. When she told me she knew what it felt like, because she had been through similar experiences, I actually believed her.
And then I took her. I released all that pain and grief into her and she received it without complaint. She took it, no matter how rough and hard I fucked her, like it was exactly how she wanted it.
I put on my clothes and watched her put on hers too.
I didn’t want the night to end here. The idea of leaving her there and going upstairs to my bedroom didn't entice me. I wanted her with me. Was that weird?
I’d never sought companionship before. At least not female companionship. To me, all a girl was good for was fucking. For the release. Then their job was done.
But that wasn’t all Reese was good for.
“Come upstairs with me. For tonight,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
She looked up at me. There was no mistaking the shock on her face.
“Really? Is that what you really want?” she asked.
I knew there was a chance she would try and run away. I had opened myself up to more opportunities of messing up. Could I really trust this girl? No matter how she made me feel.
“Yes, that is what I really want,” I replied.
Reese smiled at me and I realized I loved it when she looked at me like that.
