“Killian,” she breathes, my name coming out like a moan.
It sounds so fucking good, that I do it again and again until her body is trembling, and she can do nothing but hold on to me.
While I’m playing with her clit, she grasps at my shoulders, her nails biting into my skin. I keep kissing her breasts, sucking her nipples into my mouth, drawing circles around them with my tongue. Her moans almost have an animal quality to them at this point. They become needy and intense.
She begins rocking against my fingers, begging for more while I continue to play with her.
“I…Oh, God…I feel…”.
Each of her words are chaotic and puffed out with ragged breath, her body moving against me, begging for more.
And fuck, do I want to give her more.
I know if I stripped her down, she’d let me take her. I could push into her sweet pussy and claim her. I don’t want her to have regrets, however. It’s important to me that when I take Belle completely, it’s done with her giving herself over to me fully. I can’t explain the need, but it’s there just the same.
Right now, the only thing keeping her upright is my arm around her waist. She’s so close, and I know I need to finish her off. If I don’t, I’m not going to be able to stay in control. I want her too damn much. I watch her eyes close as her head falls back.
“Oh, God,” she gasps as I bite through her fabric and suck on her nipple all while moving my fingers over and over on her swollen, pulsating clit.
I know the exact moment she falls apart, her orgasm tearing through her, because she yells out my name.
“Killian!”
Her cries are so loud that I figure if there are guards outside, they hear them. I don’t give a fuck. I’ve never heard anything better in my life. When I finally claim her completely, neither one of us may survive. It’d be a hell of a way to go, though.
She leans on me as she comes down. It takes a while. Hell, that had been so intense, if it had kept going, I may have come with her—and she didn’t even touch me. Something about giving her pleasure springs forth feelings I’ve never experienced, and I do my best to ignore them and file them away for now.
I continue praising, sliding my hand up and down her back while holding her, letting her orgasm ebb away. Belle’s breathing is ragged as she looks at me through heavy-lidded eyes. She bites her lip as if she's embarrassed, and I suck it into my mouth. She’s mine now. I don’t want her getting embarrassed because she comes apart with my touch. That’s nothing to be self-conscious about. It’s too fucking beautiful.
I maneuver us back under the spray of water, making sure all the soap is gone. I love washing her body, but I don’t push things any further—no matter how much I want to. I promised, and that’s a promise I’m going to keep.
CHAPTER 29
KILLIAN
I get out of the shower, stepping onto a rug to dry off and letting her watch. Her eyes are glued to me and something about that makes me feel more alive than I’ve felt in years. Hell, maybe ever. Once I'm thoroughly dried, I grasp her hand and help her step out, too.
I take my time drying her off. Her legs are still trembling, even as she tries to still them. I'm tempted to try to lick off the water instead, but I promised her I would behave, and if I taste just an inch of her sweet skin, I'm going to want all of her.
"I know that I said you could keep the underwear on, but you're going to have to have dry clothes in bed." I trace the wet strap of her bra, watching as she responds to my touch, wishing we weren't still on the prison grounds. I ache to be home with her where we can actually explore one another as husband and wife. I pull my hand away before I go back to exploring her body—apparently my willpower is very weak when it comes to my beautiful wife.
"I packed pajamas in my bag," she explains, nodding toward the bed as I finish towel drying her hair. It’s not much, but there’s no blow dryer here and I want to make sure she doesn’t catch a chill because the air condition is on.
I wrap a big towel around her as we walk to the bed. I rifle through her bag, surprised when I find an outfit of my own clothes. I turn to look at her in surprise.
“I…I wasn’t sure if you would want regular clothes tonight instead of…”
She stops talking with a shrug, seemingly very nervous. I grin at her, pulling out one of my favorite t-shirts that she packed—which confuses me.