I moan as he thrusts again, bringing me so close.
“Come for me, princess,” he says again.
This time, I do. I feel the warm waves of pleasure flow through me as I scream his name.
He comes right after me before collapsing on top of me. Our bodies stay pressed together for several minutes. In these few precious moments, our bodies are one.
And I know now that he will hurt me. As soon as he gets up and goes to clean himself off, he will rip me apart, taking a small part of me with him that I can never get back. Because that was the best sex of my life. That’s how sex is supposed to be. And I know that I gave a small part of myself to him that made it so incredible. I just hope that, when he moves, it just leaves a small hole in my heart instead of the gaping hole that I’m afraid he will leave in his wake.
Heat creeps up my neck, waking me. I try to move, but I can’t. Killian’s body is heavy on top of mine. His stubble scratches against my chest when I try to move.
We fell asleep. I try to glance at a clock, but I don’t find one. How long have we been sleeping like this? I try to move, and I find that he is still buried inside me. Although he doesn’t fill me quite the same way he did before.
This can’t be happening. He was supposed to leave as soon as this was over. If anyone catches him leaving my room in the morning, we are going to be out of time to decide what we want to do. My grandfather will force us into getting married when that’s clearly not what either of us wants. So, why did Killian fall asleep on top of me then? If he doesn’t want to be with me, why is he still here?
“Killian,” I whisper. I don’t know why I’m whispering. Maybe it’s because I’m ashamed of what we just did. I don’t sleep with strange men—although Killian isn’t really a stranger anymore. I don’t do this though. I’m a good girl. I don’t sleep with someone on the first date—except I just did.
“Killian,” I say louder.
He stirs slightly, but my voice isn’t enough to wake him.
“Killian,” I say even louder.
His eyes open wide, and his body jerks off of mine. We both wince at the loss we feel as soon as his body leaves mine. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I will not let the pain overtake rational thought. I will not.
“You need to go,” I say without opening my eyes.
I feel his hand against my cheek, brushing my hair off my face. “If that’s what you want,” he says softly.
I keep my eyes closed, afraid I will cry if I open them. I refuse to be the girl who cries after sex. I will not let that happen. I will prove to him that I can be just as heartless as him. I can sleep with a man without losing a bit of myself, without expecting more than one night.
“You need to go,” I say again.
“Okay,” he says.
I feel the bed shift as he stands from the bed. When I hear the bathroom door close, I open my eyes. I take another deep breath before getting up and walking to the closet. I slip on pajama pants and shirt. I grab a hair tie and quickly gather my hair in a bun on top of my head.
I glance at my phone. It’s three in the morning. I sigh. I’m not going to get much sleep. I probably won’t get any more sleep as soon as he leaves. But I need him gone before I do something stupid that will reveal that I can’t do this, just like he said I couldn’t.
He comes back from the bathroom, but I don’t glance at him as much as my body wants one last peek at his tight abs and impressive cock. I won’t. I had my fun. Now, it’s time to move on.
“I’ll be in the living room,” I say. I walk through the bedroom door and into the living room. I don’t look back.
It only takes him a minute to get dressed. I glance up from my spot on the couch when he enters the living room. He’s dressed. His hair is combed. He looks exactly like he did when he came to pick me up, completely unaffected by what just happened. He probably isn’t affected. He does this once a month with different women all the time. I’m just his whore for the night.
Killian walks to me. He bends down and softly kisses me on the lips. “Sleep well, princess.”
He walks to the door. I don’t get up. I refuse to walk him to the door. That’s what girlfriends do. That’s what women in love do. I’m not in love, not even close.
My eyes follow him though. They follow him to the door. They watch as he pauses for just a second before he opens the door. His eyes meet mine. I s
wear they look sad, or maybe that’s just my imagination. I don’t know. But then he opens the door, and he’s gone.
I stay on the couch as one tear falls. It hurts, seeing him go.
Tonight was a mistake. I shouldn’t have had sex with him…because I think I just fell a little for him. And if I fall for him, then that gives him the advantage. That means I will do whatever is in his best interest instead of what is in mine. I can’t do that. I have to stay strong. I have to do what I need.
I should be angry with Killian. He lied to me. He took away another bit of my freedom. And I am. I am angry. I’m angry that I didn’t get to experience dating Eli for longer than I did. I’m angry that I didn’t date other men after Eli. I’m angry that Killian is the only man who has ever made me feel loved…except it wasn’t love. It was anger and passion. That’s what made the sex so great. It wasn’t real.