40: Third Time's A Curse
ALEXA
Okay. So here's the thing. You're not supposed to kiss the man you were ordered to kill.
You're especially not supposed to kiss him while you're straddling him with a knife to his chest.
Oops.
His hands found my hips, and my heart took one long, dramatic pause, like it had no idea which team it was playing for anymore.
The enemy?
The ex?
God, I was so screwed.
His lips moved against mine with that signature Killian arrogance, the kind that said, 'I know you're dangerous, baby, but I'll still die in your arms, smiling.' And the worst part? My body was matching his energy because it was a traitor.
I should've pulled back.
Instead, I tilted my head and deepened the kiss.
Killian groaned deeply, and it echoed straight down my spine like an earthquake. The good kind. The kind that levels your internal infrastructure.
The blade was still in my hand.
My sanity? Missing. Probably on vacation.
My mouth moved from his lips to his jaw, then down his throat.
"Alexa—" he groaned.
Holy shit. My name in that voice?
It made my core throb.
I pulled away to catch my breath, and his brows lifted slightly. Of course, he was into this shit. Such a lunatic.
"Are you planning to finish the job, Angel?" he asked.
I looked down at the knife still resting on his chest.
And then I did the most dangerous thing of all, I threw the knife aside.
Killian was still staring at me as though I'd just walked out of a fever dream.
He was shirtless. Half-sitting. His back was resting against the pillows, every muscle tense beneath his bruised skin and the white gauze. But his eyes?
His eyes were damn near pleading.
And I hadn't even touched him yet.
I straddled his hips slowly, grinding down just enough to draw a strangled sound from his throat. His breath hitched, his hands clenching the sheets.
"You gonna kill me now, sweetheart?" he rasped.
I leaned down, brushing my mouth over his jaw. "Not tonight."
My fingers traced down his torso, careful around the bandages. His body was so wrecked, and still... ready for me. He was rock hard. Throbbing. Already twitching under the fabric of his sweats.
I reached for the waistband, and he grabbed my wrist instantly.
"Tesora," he warned, his jaw tight. "If you start this—"
"I know," I whispered, and yanked my hand out of his grip. I reached over and lowered his waistband, pulling him free.
He hissed through his teeth as my hand wrapped around his thick length.
And when I lowered my head?
He literally growled.
A curse ripped through his clenched teeth as I took him into my mouth, slowly, inch by inch, letting the heat and slick of my tongue drive him mad.
His head slammed back against the pillow, one hand buried in my hair.
The other fisted the sheets like he might rip them apart.
"Bloody hell," he groaned.
I moaned softly, letting the vibration roll through him, and he shuddered. His hips jerked on instinct, but he held back, his breathing coming in ragged, broken pants.
"Alexa—Alexa, baby, fuck—"
I took him deeper, massaging and licking. And the louder he moaned in that sinfully deep voice of his, the more I grew wet with need. I felt like I was in control, and I loved it.
He was so big, and I wanted him inside of me. It was crazy how the sight of him in such a helpless state fueled my desire.
When his climax came, his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he came in my mouth.
And fuck, the sound he made...
That wrecked moan.
"Alexa—fuck—"
His fingers tightened in my hair, not to stop me, but to ground himself as his body trembled.
His hips jerked, his chest heaving.
When I looked up at him with my mouth full, his blue eyes were barely open. They were wild and glazed.
I pulled off with a slick pop and licked my lips.
"Still think I came here to kill you?"
His laugh was cracked and breathless. "You're doing a damn good job of it."
And then I was straddling him again. I was naked under the large shirt I was wearing.
So, I slid down on him slowly, inch by excruciating inch.
His gaze was locked with mine, clouded by lust. His hands flew to my hips, his grip bruising, but he didn't move. He just watched me take him.
All of him.
I sank down fully, letting the stretch and the fullness make me tremble.
"You feel that?" I whispered against his lips.
His breath hitched, and I started to move. I rocked my hips, slowly and mercilessly, watching him come undone with every roll and every tight squeeze of my muscles around him. He tried to meet my pace, but the cracked rib made him falter, and that power nearly made me dizzy.
"Can't fuck me the way you want, can you?" I whispered, grinding down. "You're stuck. At my mercy."
He growled. "You're evil."
"And you love it."
He threw his head back. "I'll never recover from this."
"Good."
I leaned down, kissed his throat, and rode him harder.
Until the room spun.
Until he was gasping, twitching, helpless beneath me.
His grip trembled on my thighs as I moved over him, chasing another release. Undoubtedly, he was built to be mine, and I was born to ruin him.
His second orgasm nearly took him out.
His vision had glazed, his moans had turned raw, and he'd whispered things I wasn't ready to hear.
"You're going to kill me, and I'll thank you for it," he'd growled.
But I didn't stop.
Because I needed this.
I needed to burn it all down.
So I rode him again and again.
His head dropped back into the pillow, his beautiful wavy hair damp with sweat, a vein pulsing wildly in his throat.
"Alexa—"
His voice was barely a rasp now. "I can't—"
"Yes," I said through gritted teeth, keeping my rhythm. "You can. One more."
"You're going to kill me."
I leaned down, my forehead brushing his.
"Then die moaning my name."
And holy hell, he almost did.
His whole body arched, a shudder rolling through him. The groan he let out was hoarse and beautiful and so broken, I felt it settle deep in my bones.
His third orgasm hit him like a bullet to the chest.
His eyes fluttered, his swollen lips parting.
And then…
He went completely still beneath me, his breathing shallow. His long eyelashes were dark against his pale, sweat-soaked skin.
"Killian?"
There was no answer.
I blinked.
Was he...?
I pressed two fingers to his throat. His pulse was still there. It was faint but steady.
"Oh my...holy shit."
I'd ridden the man into cardiac surrender.
I slowly climbed off him, grabbed the sheets, and covered his very unconscious body before collapsing beside him, staring at the ceiling in stunned silence.
"Well, Alexa," I muttered. "You really outdid yourself."
A soft groan escaped his lips, just a hint of awareness flickering back into his face.
“Third time's a curse," he whispered weakly, his eyes still closed.
I stared at him, a loud snort escaping my lips.
Then I laughed.
It was an actual, uncontrollable, half-crazed laughter.
I flopped onto my side, still breathless.
"You're an idiot," I said.
"You're evil," he whispered.
"You love it."
He didn't answer because he didn't need to.
Instead, his hand found mine under the sheets, weakly.
"You're so going to pay for what you've done," His voice rumbled from his chest, and I looked away from him, clamping my thighs together.
I'd be damned if I didn't admit that I anticipated his revenge.