CHAPTER 154

CHAPTER 154
~THE TASTE OF MORNING~

The first thing Killian was aware of was the warmth. A deep, languid heat that seeped into his bones, a stark contrast to the cool morning air drifting through the open balcony doors, as he had shifted them in the bedroom in the middle of the night. The second was the weight. A delicious, grounding pressure against his chest and thigh.

He opened his eyes. The world was soft-focused, bathed in the pale, pearlescent light of dawn. And there she was.

Cassandra.

His Cassandra. His fiancée.

The word sent a thrill through him that was more potent than any coffee. She was curled into his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder, one arm flung across his chest. Her dark hair was a wild, silken cascade against his skin and the white pillows.

The blanket had slipped down to her waist, baring the elegant line of her back, the gentle curve of her hip, the perfect swell of her ass.

He held his breath, afraid to shatter the perfection of the moment. Last night under the stars had been a claiming, passionate and raw, a culmination of years of suppressed desire. This… this was different. This was intimacy. This was possession of a quieter, deeper kind.

Slowly, so slowly, he began to move his hand. He traced the line of her spine with the very tips of his fingers, feeling the delicate bumps under her impossibly soft skin. She sighed in her sleep, a soft, contented sound, and pressed closer to him. A surge of protectiveness, fierce and absolute, washed over him.

He continued his exploration, his touch reverent. He mapped the gentle dip of her waist, the smooth plane of her stomach. He memorized the feel of her, the reality of her, naked and trusting in his arms. This was his. His to cherish. His to pleasure. His to love.

He bent his head, nuzzling the fragrant hollow where her neck met her shoulder. He breathed her in— the scent of her skin, the lingering hint of champagne, and something uniquely, essentially her.

He couldn't resist. He pressed his lips to her skin, a soft, closed-mouth kiss. Then another. Then he let his tongue dart out, tasting the salt-sweetness of her.

She stirred in his arms, a faint murmur escaping her lips.

Emboldened, he opened his mouth wider, sucking gently at the tender skin. He wanted to mark her. Not with violence, but with devotion. To leave the faint, lavender evidence of his worship on her body. He sucked until a faint bloom, a promise of a bruise, appeared on her shoulder. A primal satisfaction curled in his gut. His.

His hand slid from her stomach up to cup her breast. It fit perfectly in his palm, heavy and warm. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, feeling it peak instantly into a hard, eager bead under his touch. He rolled it gently between his thumb and forefinger, and this time her sigh was deeper, more conscious.

He shifted lower under the blanket, his mouth following the path his hands had taken. He kissed the valley between her breasts, licking a slow, wet trail to the underside of one. He took her nipple into his mouth, sucking deeply, lavishing it with his tongue until she was arching her back off the mattress, a soft moan finally breaking from her lips.

Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep and instant arousal. She found his gaze watching her, dark with hunger and adoration.

“Killian…” She breathed, her voice husky with sleep.

“Good morning, fiancée.” He murmured against her skin, his voice a low, possessive rumble that vibrated through her.

He didn't give her time to fully wake up. He wanted her pliant and soft, lost in the sensations he was creating. He continued his ministrations, his mouth moving to her other breast while his hand slid down her body, over the gentle curve of her belly, through the softness of folds.

She was already wet for him. The evidence of her arousal soaked his fingers as he parted her folds. A groan tore from his throat. “So ready!” He growled. “Always so ready for me.”

He found her clit, swollen and sensitive, and began to circle it with a relentless, knowing pressure. Her hips jerked, and she cried out, her hands flying to his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin.

“Please…” She begged, already on the edge.

“Please what, my love?” He teased, his fingers never stopping their torturous rhythm. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you!” She gasped, her eyes wide and desperate. “Inside me. Now.”

That was all he needed to hear.

In one fluid, powerful motion, he rose over her, hooking his arms under her knees and spreading her wide, opening her completely to his gaze and his possession.

The morning light illuminated her most intimate place, glistening and eager for him. He positioned himself at her entrance, the broad, leaking head of his cock pressing against her.

He didn't thrust. Not yet. He just held himself there, letting her feel the immense pressure, the promise of being filled. He watched her face, watched her bite her lip, her eyes rolling back in her head at the sensation.

“Look at me.” He commanded, his voice rough.

Her eyes, dark and glazed with lust, snapped to his.

“I'm going to fuck you now.” He stated the crude word a stark, erotic contrast to the tender morning light. “I'm going to fuck you until you forget your own name. Until the only thing you know is my cock in your perfect, tight cunt. Do you understand?”

A violent shudder wracked her body. “Yes!” She whimpered.

With a guttural groan, he drove into her in one long, deep, uninterrupted stroke, burying himself to the hilt.

She screamed, her inner muscles clenching around him like a fist. He was so deep, so impossibly full. He gave her no time to adjust. He set a brutal, punishing pace from the start, each thrust slamming into her cervix, rocking her entire body up the bed. The headboard knocked a steady, frantic rhythm against the wall.

His grip on her thighs was iron, holding her open, making her take every inch of him. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a searing, possessive kiss, swallowing her cries.

“That's it!” He grunted against her lips, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. “Take it. Take all of me. Your fiancé. Your man.”

His words, filthy and possessive, drove her higher. She was mindless, a creature of pure sensation. The world narrowed to the feel of him pistoning into her, the slap of their sweat-slicked skin, the raw, animal sounds of their coupling.

He could feel her climax building, her inner walls beginning to flutter and spasm around him. He reached between them, his thumb finding her clit and pressing down hard, circling in time with his thrusts.

“Come for me, Kitten!” He snarled. “Come on my cock. Now.”

The command, the overwhelming stimulation, shattered her. She came with a raw, broken scream, her body convulsing around him, milking his length with violent, rhythmic pulses. The sight of her, lost in ecstasy because of him, was his undoing. With a final, deep thrust, he emptied himself into her, his own release a hot, endless flood, his roar of completion muffled against her neck.

He collapsed on top of her, spent, his weight crushing her into the mattress. They lay like that for long minutes, both gasping for air, their hearts hammering against each other.

Slowly, he softened inside her, but he made no move to pull out. He just shifted his weight to his elbows and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, a faint, sated smile on her kiss-swollen lips.

He brushed the hair from her damp forehead. “Still with me?” He asked, his voice now soft, tender.

Her eyes fluttered open. They were hazy, but they held his with a new, profound depth. “There is no me without you.” She whispered. “Not anymore.”

He kissed her, softly this time, a seal on the truth of her words. The morning sun climbed higher, filling the room with light, illuminating the man who was no longer a jerk, but a CEO, a protector, a lover. And the woman who was his entire world.