She really is perfect.
CHAPTER 30
BELLE
I wake up slowly, sensing I’m alone. It takes me a few minutes to shake off the edges of sleep. I scan the room disappointed to see that Killian is already dressed, back in the prison jumper. I frown, not liking it at all. Seeing Killian in that bright orange hurts. It looks wrong on him.
"What's wrong?" he asks, slipping on his shoes. He's watching my face, and I try to hide my disappointment, but I can't. He has his cold mask on—the one that was nowhere to be found last night.
"I wish you didn't have to go back. I wish you could just walk out with me today and go back to your beautiful home," I whisper, my heart hurting.
I have the covers pulled all the way to my chin, peeking out as I try to survive the overwhelming ache in my chest.
"What about going home to my beautiful wife?' he asks, making me blush. He thinks I'm beautiful. I don't believe him, but I wouldn’t mind hearing him say it.
"I…I would just like to be in the house with you. I don't really want to say goodbye," I stammer out as he stares at me. His look feels like it clutches at my chest, something unspoken and intense holding my heart. I want to see him smile that cocky, intimidating smile, but he's serious. I can't tell what he's thinking, and I don't like it. "You're doing it again…."
"What?" he asks, blinking and breaking the hold he has on me. I doubt he even realizes what he can do to me—just by looking at me.
"You look at me like you're thinking bad things."
He’s not thinking sexy, bad things either. He’s full of bad thoughts. I can see a darkness swirling in his eyes and I hate it.
"Not bad, just confusing." He's confused? The man who thrives on control? How is he the one that's feeling confused after the night we spent together?
"I don't mean to confuse you."
"It’s interesting,” he replies, and I have no idea what that means. Before I can question him further, he shakes his head. “Okay, wife. It's almost time for the guards to come back. You need to get up. I want you to be dressed when they arrive.”
“I can—”
“I don't want you changing in here once I'm taken out, Belle. I don't want them seeing you looking like you do right now. That's solely mine. It’s something only I will ever get to see.” The possessive touch to his voice slides over me, making my knees weak. I can feel wetness paint the inside of my thighs and the repercussions of his words makes my clit throb. Memories of our shower together come rushing to my mind and leaves me aching for his touch.
The covers slip away as I sit up, licking my lips at his sensual words. He doesn’t miss what he’s done to me, how my body is reacting as he rakes his eyes over me. My peaked nipples press against the cotton of the shirt I’m wearing. I blush and try to hide myself as he watches me.
"I'll go change," I whisper, stepping out of bed and getting my clean clothes from my overnight bag.
"Kiss me first," he demands. It's a dominant growl. I drop the clothes on the floor, walk over to him and do it without thought. I want his lips on mine. I want to kiss him. I want even more than that.
I lean into him, kissing him hard as he teases my bottom lip, and I gasp into his mouth while his tongue sweeps in taking over and plundering my mouth like an ancient Viking warrior. When we break apart, my breathing is crazy erratic.
"If I touch you, will you be wet?" he asks quietly, his voice hoarse.
My heart is pounding inside my chest. I can barely catch my breath. I could lie to him, but he’d know it wasn’t true. I don’t want to do that anyway. I’m not a liar and I don’t want to start with a man that I think could mean everything to me.
"Yes," I admit, meeting his stare and catching a glimmer of surprise that I didn't hesitate to answer him. He reaches out his hand as the blush on my cheeks grows hotter.
"I dare you to show me."
"Show you?" I squeak out, wondering if I’m brave enough to do just that.
“Show me,” he repeats, his voice graveled and hungry.
I swallow nervously. Then, before I can second guess myself, I take his hand—still joined with mine—and bring it between my legs. I lick my lips, full of nerves as a new gush of need slips out coating the lips of my pussy—as well as our fingers.
"God, you're soaked," he groans out. His fingers slide between my lips, moving over my throbbing clit, making my knees go weak. I tremble with his touch but refuse to look away from his beautiful face.