Page 27 of Reckless Desires

"Show me how a spoiled brat submits," he demands, his voice rough with desire. "Don’t be shy now."

“Screw you!” I bite out, holding back. The night air wraps around my nipples.

His hand slides up, gripping the crease between my thigh and pelvis. “One taste of me and you’ll never be the same.”

His words should disgust me, but instead they push me over the edge. The orgasm hits me like a physical blow, stealing my breath and making my vision white out. I convulse against him, my pussy clenching around nothing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. I should feel shame, disgust, anger, anything but this lingering satisfaction that hums through my veins.

Killian’s breathing is heavy, and his cock remains stiff against me as I climax all over it. A final shudder runs through my body as I try to get some distance.

“Get me off here, you pervert,” I sneer, pulling the towel around me again.

The horse begins to slow its pace, and the night rushes back in—the sounds of the night, the chill air on my exposed skin, the reality of what just happened. Killian releases my hip, his hand returning to the reins.

"We need to keep moving," he finally says, his voice devoid of emotion. "I’m not looking to get pneumonia."

“What did you get out of that? You’re just as horrible as Nico Vidalia.”

“Usually women are more relaxed after a good release.” His voice is condescending. “But if you want to compare me to someone like Nico, let me start acting like him.”

Just like that, the towel is ripped off me and tossed while he continues to ride.

“Asshole!” I cover my breasts.

“Oh, now you’re shy. Not the same confidence you had when you took that shower.”

I surrender. “Fine, you win! You made your point that you’re in control. But I’m not dealing with this. I’d rather take my chances with whatever is out there than stay here with you.”

Frustrated, I try to dismount the horse, but Killian makes it impossible.

His arm wraps around my waist. “I told you if you test my limits, I’ll make it miserable for you. But let me make this very clear. If you ever compare me to that vile piece of shit of a human again, you’ll see exactly what humiliation will look like.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I see flashbacks of those girls in cages, things I saw that should never happen to any female. This was better than going back to that.

Chapter Seventeen

Killian

It is downright insulting enough to be compared to a man whose name is the same as an onion-flavored dressing, but to have a woman get under my skin is downright deplorable, like a cockroach crawling under my skin. In no way am I Mr. Nice Guy, but I’m not Mr. King of Human Trash either. Maybe I should just call Cameron and let him know I have her, just return her before I find myself in over my head. Well, deeper than I already am.

Liliana sits, her body rigid but trembling, arms crossed tightly over her breasts. Despite the chill of the night air, she holds her ground, a fierce glint in her eye, refusing to look away. I admire her for that. She’s like a cornered animal, poised and ready to spring, even if she doesn't realize just how precarious her situation is.

We finally arrive at Aunt Maeve’s cottage, the light outside flickering. I park the horse in the back, swinging off the saddle with ease, tying the reins to a hook with a decisive tug. Liliana remains on the horse and avoids my gaze, her eyes darting around as if seeking an escape route. I knock on the door three times, wait a heartbeat, then knock again—my focus laser-like on Lily, ready to catch her if she tries to bolt.

The door swings open, the warmth from inside hugs my body.

“Shit,” I hear Aunt Maeve huff. “What happened?”

“Intruders,” I reply, my voice low and hoarse. “Can you watch her while I call the boys?”

“Who’s the girl?” she shoots back, her eyes narrowing.

“Leverage.” The word drips with tension.

“Go on,” Aunt Maeve replies, stepping out toward the horse with a knowing glance.

Dashing inside, I pick up the landline and make a call. Within five minutes, Mickey, Leon, Trevor, and JoJo storm into the cottage, a whirlwind of energy and questions.

“I don’t know who it could have been,” I inform them, avoiding the possibility that it could be Nico. “But they had a tattoo of a fox tail on their neck.”