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Authors: Katherine Rhodes

BOOK: Knots (Club Imperial Book 4)
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His growl trembled across her skin. His erection throbbed, but he didn’t come. It was a look of triumph on his face as he took her through a second orgasm and didn’t end the coupling yet. Her body trembled in expectation at his plans.

“That’s right, babe, I’m not done with you yet.” Killian’s eyes were suddenly wicked.

It was a cruel feeling of emptiness as he withdrew from her, but somehow she knew it was only a temporary situation. Cece knew she was right when he laid his hand on her hip and rolled her over. His other hand took its place on the opposite hip and she found herself face down, ass up in a flash. Killian’s wonderfully oversized cocked pushed its way back into her willing, wet sex, and Cece didn’t stop the grunt of delight as he seated himself all the way inside.

“Oh, shit, babe, look at this gorgeous ass.” His words were reverently filthy as he passed a tender hand over her smooth bottom. Killian grasped her hips and pulled her back on him. Her body reeled, still recovering from the orgasm and now being pushed back into the insanity of pleasure again. “You like feeling me deep inside you.”

“Fuck yes,” she hissed. “Your cock is incredible.”

He moved back, then in again. One of his wonderful hands skimmed up her back, tracing up her spine, and around to her breast as his other hand held fast to her hip. Palming her breast, caressing it, he moved himself smoothly in and out of her wet, willing sex. Killian’s hand pinched and pulled at her nipple, then released and caressed, and repeated. His thrusts were deep and slow at first, but it was only a moment before he started moving faster. He switched hands, moving to torture her other breast.

Cece was panting at his sudden punishing rhythm, and enjoyed every instant of it. His heavy sac slammed against her clit in the same rhythm. It had been years since she let someone rule her like this, and at the same time she somehow knew that if she wanted to control, Killian would let her. She smirked, knowing he couldn’t see it, and tightened the muscles that were gripping his shaft.

“Oh, shit…” he gasped. “Do that again and I’m going to come.”

“That’s the idea,” Cece panted, and squeezed him again.

His grunt turned into a groan and his thrusting became desperate. Cece tried to keep up her rhythm of press and release, but Killian was too overwhelming. His hands had slipped back to her hips to help him drive hard into her. “Coming,” he grunted. “Cece, I’m coming. Oh, fuck!
Fuck.

Cece lowered herself to one elbow, reached back between them and palmed his sac, rolling him in her fingers. It was his undoing—he shouted incoherently as he pushed in again and again to her tunnel. Cece wished the barrier wasn’t there; she wanted to feel his come inside her. Killian’s surging cock distracted her enough though. She pushed against him as came forward, emptying himself into her.

Killian slowed, coming back to himself. “You dirty little minx,” he breathed, the smile in voice. “You have one very talented pussy.”

Cece made a sad little mewling sound as his erection retreated. “Are you all done playing?” Cece asked, glancing at him over her shoulder.

He eased himself out of her, and discarded the rubber. “Oh, not even close.” He leaned over to the drawer and pulled out a small silver object. Cece instantly recognized it as a bullet as he slipped it on to his finger. “It’s your turn, babe.” Wrapping an arm around her waist and slipping his hand up to her breast again, he righted them to a sitting position and pulled her close. His finger with the toy snaked between her legs.

The vibration shot through her sensitive clit, ripping through her body, tearing the scream of pleasure from her throat. Cece wanted to jerk away, but it was so clear that Killian knew exactly what he was doing with her body, and pulled her tight to him without a word. The buzz teased her sensitive bundle of nerves, making her shiver and quake against him and she felt like she was going to pitch forward. She reached behind her, where she could feel Killian’s hot skin against her and wrapped her arms around him. She felt his thick length against the small of her back, resting from its resent assault on her.

Of course, that was the source of the problem—she had been so ramped up by his cock that she was at the tipping point of another climax. With the silver vibrator humming and tickling her, it only took a small pinch at her nipple by his hand and she screamed with the fourth orgasm of the hour. Cece arched back gasping and squirming; she chanted his name as he passed the bullet over her a few more times, coaxing more and more of the climax out of her.

Cece laid a hand on this arm. “Stop, stop,” she breathed. “You have to stop.”

The buzz dropped away, while Killian whispered in her ear. “You okay, babe?”

She desperately tried to catch her breath. “Yes, I’m fine. More than, really. I just needed you to stop… my body was just done.”

“Happy to oblige,” he laughed lightly. “More to come?”

She turned in his arms and looked at the playful smile there. “Oh, I plan on lots to come. For both of us.” Cece glanced at the clock, then back at him and pouted. “It’s only six p.m. I’m kind of hungry.”

Killian nibbled on her neck. “Good. I plan to do some eating out.”

Chapter Seven:

 

Killian heard Cece padding across the room to the kitchen. He glanced up and found the gorgeous creature who had spent the night in his bed standing there, leaning against the wall. She gave him a sweet smile while he inspected her clothing choice.

She’d grabbed the shirt he’d been wearing the day before, and because she was so tall, it barely covered the panties she had slipped back on. His cock throbbed hard for a moment, but he gained control of himself; they’d spent six hours the night before bringing each other to ecstatic heights, with barely a stop for some Chinese delivery.

Killian would never have guessed the wonderful sexual things that could be done with mu-shu.

“Good morning, babe,” he said, turning back to the stove. “Breakfast.”

“Please,” she answered. “I’m famished.”

“I wonder why,” he teased. The laugh that answered was high and full of life; he relished the sound. He tucked it away with the memories of the night before. “Eggs are okay? Canadian bacon?”

“Perfect.”

He flipped over one of the pieces of ham in the skillet. “How do you feel?”

“Sore.” Killian looked back at her sitting on one of the bar stools in his kitchen, a little worried. “And it’s amazing,” Cece finished catching his eye with a predatory glint.

He laughed and turned back to the stove again. “Use that look on me again, babe, and you’re not going to be able to walk.”

“That also sounds promising.”

He coughed, choking back his desire again. Killian wasn’t sure if the night before was good idea or a bad idea, aside from the fact that it was the best sex he’d ever had. She’d shown her mettle—and kept up with him all night long. He kept thinking about how much he wanted to bring this wonderful woman to Wanderer’s End, and tell her everything about him. To see her blindfolded and tethered, his name tripping off her lips as he brought her to another amazing climax. To have her completely at his mercy at the other end of a flogger.

Slow your roll there, McInnis
. He pushed the eggs around in the skillet. Neither of them were in a state where learning about
that
would be a good idea. There were a thousand things between them and a night at Wanderer’s End. “You look good in my clothes,” he smiled.

“I like the way they feel,” she answered. “And smell.”

Killian turned to where  Cece had seated herself at the table. “I want this, Cece. I want a relationship with you.”

“I can’t, Killian.” The tone of defeat in her voice was painful to hear.

“I want to help you get out of this.”

“I want nothing more,” she admitted. “But you absolutely have to understand: Hannah is the only part of my family I give a damn about at all. I love her, and I need to make sure she’s safe. If they take my house, I can’t be sure of that.”

“She’s nineteen.” Killian was confused. 

“She’s frail, Kay,” Cece said, playing with the cuff of his shirt. “She doesn’t like to let on, but she’s not a healthy, strong person. If my parents lost the house and she was on the street, she’d be dead in days. Because they couldn’t get her medicines, they wouldn’t keep her warm and dry…” Killian was shocked to hear the tremor in Cece’s normally unwavering voice. “I will be happy when she finds someone to care her for her the way she needs, and deserves, but until then I have to make sure that she’s safe.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Cece pulled chewed her lip for a moment. “She has myasthenia gravis.”

Killian cringed. He knew that disease. Lambert-Eaton Syndrome had been one of his papers in med school. It meant that Hannah’s body attacked and destroyed the receptor sites at the muscle. The critical control chemical never got to her muscles to help her use them—both voluntary and involuntary. It explained a lot—about her pallor, her fatigue, her seemingly delicate state. She really was medically frail, and Killian understood why Cece worried about her.

“So we have to get you out of this contract and make sure that Hannah’s free and clear of it as well,” he said.

“Killian, this can’t happen again.” Cece’s voice barely carried over the sound of the cooking food.

“What?”

“This.” She pointed to the shirt she was wearing. “You and I, naked and having sex. It can’t happen again. Not until we have some idea what’s going on.”

“Frances.” He dared to use her full name. “This isn’t fly by night for me.”

Her hand hit the table so hard that he thought she cracked the top. “I have no interest in this being a one night stand either, Killian. At all. But I don’t need this to be more complicated than it already is. I have to worry about Hannah. No one else does. If that means going through with this wedding, then so fucking be it.” Cece massaged her hand where she hit it on the table. “I don’t see as it’s a problem any way. Once I have a kid with Paul, that’s it. We can have an affair and no one will--”

“Fuck you, Cece,” he growled. “I am not going to be an affair. I’m not going to be your illicit lover who can’t spend every waking minute with you. It’s all or nothing for me.”

Cece jerked back at his reaction. Killian was pissed. He wasn’t going to play that fucking game. Everyone he had grown up with had married and had children and then fucked around on their spouse, and he wasn’t going to be part of that bullshit. Not with someone who meant as much to him as the gorgeous creature sitting at the table. Shaking his head, he realized he had frightened her too much.

“Cece, do you realize that there are so few people we know who are actually dedicated and happy with their spouses?” And in that instant he took a leap of faith that brought her into his closest circle of trust. “My father was killed because he took part in that bullshit.”

Her mouth fell open as she reeled from the admission. “What do you mean?”

“My father and his mistress were killed in her apartment.”

“I thought he was killed in a hotel room?”

“Patricia’s apartment,” he corrected. “And the words ‘cheater’ and ‘adulterer’ were sprawled in their blood on the mirrors. He was shot through the rectum, Cece. Someone shoved the shot gun up my father’s ass and pulled the trigger, killing him and Patricia.”

Her hand flew to her mouth, covering the gape. “They did
what
?”

“You heard me,” he said, without reproach. He didn’t want to repeat it. “It’s never been put out into the public because they are sure that’s going to be something they can use to prosecute with. If they could ever find the bastard.”

“You shouldn’t be telling me,” she whispered.

“I’m telling you because I am not going to let either of us get to that level.” Killian finally turned back to the stove and pushed the eggs around again. “I won’t risk either of us being hurt that way. I loved my father, and even more, I loved Patricia. He would have been happy with her, if only my mother agreed to the divorce.”

“Did your mother kill him?”

He paused. “No. She was really and truly with me the whole weekend. She wouldn’t have bothered with a hit either; she was too cheap and when my father sued for divorce she would get everything she wanted anyway.” The ham snapped in the pan in the momentary silence. “I won’t risk our lives. We don’t know who killed him. We don’t know anything about what happened. And I will not have you die lying next to me.”

He heard the barstool scrap across the floor. He thought Cece was leaving the room, but was caught a bit by surprise when she pressed herself again his back and pulled him into her, her cheek against his back. “I’m so sorry, Kay. I had no idea. I know that’s the idea, but shit. Shit.”

“Do you understand why this is all or nothing for me? That if you marry Paul I can’t and won’t touch again unless or until you divorce him?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her words dancing on his skin. “Yes, I do, Killian.”

Turning, he pulled her against his chest. “I want this, with you. But I understand you as well. We have to make this a one-time thing until we make a full time thing. And I’m OK with that.”

He felt a heavy sigh and shake, and looked down to find tears in Cece’s eyes. “Why did we wait so long? Now we have to walk away from this before we know it can be.”

“Cece, we’ll figure this out. I promise.”

She gave him a half smile. “I hope so.” The tears rolled down her face, but the smile spread. “Because frankly, I want a few more nights like last with you.”

Killian quirked an eyebrow. “Just a few?”

“A whole shit ton,” Cece laughed.

“And just think,” he whispered in her ear, “that was only the beginning.”

Cece’s eyes grew wide and wicked with his promise.

* * *

The dull, angry thud of leather on leather was the only thing Killian could hear. His knuckle stung, and he was coated in sweat. It dripped and rolled down his face, falling onto his shirt and to the floor beyond, and still he didn’t stop.

“This is new for you,” came the voice from the door.

Killian let two more punches fall before stepping back from the bag. He pulled off the thin leather gloves and examined his knuckles. They were raw, and it felt good. “What do you mean?”

Darien walked into the room, looking around. “You’re not usually into getting the pain. You’re usually the one giving it.”

“Believe me,” Killian said, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat off, “that bag is hurtin’.”

“You are too,” Darien said. “What’s going on?”

Killian pulled the sparing glove back on and whacked at the bag again, in quick succession with both fists. “I slept with her.”

Darien stepped into his line of sight. “Jesus Christ, you slept with
who
? For the love of God, Killian, if you fucked Diane I will kick your--”

Killian’s next punch came within millimeters of Darien’s jaw. And it was only at the last second that he managed to stop it. “Don’t you ever accuse me of sleeping with that rotted piece of meat. I know better than that.”

Darien wrapped his hand around Killian’s fist. “You need to relax.” He lowered the fist out of his face. “Relax. You announce that you slept with someone, and the last time you were here, you were bitching about that rotted piece of meat. So it was my logical conclusion that you had slept with her. Take it down a notch and tell me who you slept with.”

Killian pulled his fists back and slammed the bag again. “Cece.”

Darien walked back into his line of view again. “Excuse me?”

Killian dropped his fists. “Cece.”

“Robbe? Frances Robbe? You slept with Frances Robbe?”

“Yes.”

Darien pinched the bridge of his nose. “Holy fucking hell, Kay.” He snapped his eyes open. “Does she know?”

“No.” Killian shook his head, taking two more shots at the bag. “No, she has no idea.”

“And it worked?”

This time, Killian took six punches to answer. “I had to repair the wall before I came over.”

“The wall?”

“There were a few holes behind the bed.”

Darien laughed. “You fucked her so hard the walls had holes.”

“Ripped the sheets at one point, too.” Two more shots on the bag. “Damn shame, they were my favorite satins. If my neighbors didn’t know my name before…”

“You know she’s getting engaged.”

Killian hit the bag so hard it swayed and he had to grab it before it swung back at him. “I am well fucking aware of that, thank you very fucking much.”

Darien held up his hands. “Just making sure.”

“Know any good lawyers?”

Darien stare at him hard. “You are also aware she’s marrying Paul Wainwright, right? The coroner? You’re not going to find any lawyer who is going to want to go up against the county coroner for any reason. They need his reports, and they are not going to cross him.”

“Who said anything about crossing him?” Killian punctuated each word with another hit to the punching bag. “I’m going to talk to him. I want her free and clear.”

“Hold the phone.” Darien stepped closer. “You want her? Free and clear? What the hell is going on here, Killian.”

“Oh, come on,” he answered, hitting the bag even harder. Darien grabbed the bag to hold it for him. “You know I’ve always been hot for her. I’ve always wanted to get to know her and date her and see if there was something between us. And now I know there is.”

“You’re in love, aren’t you?”

Killian stopped his assault on the equipment. “You’re a fucking genius.”

Darien punched him right in the gut. Killian doubled over, sputtering and coughing. “You mind your fucking manners in my house, McInnis. The only reason I’m not hauling out by your balls is because I like you, and I know what you’ve been though.” He took a few steps back.

Killian took a moment to hold his stomach. And let his pride resurface. He deserved the hit; he was walking on thin ice with one of the most powerful Doms in the ‘Burgh. Slowly, Killian let himself stand up straight and take a deep breath, looking Darien in the eye. “I apologize. Your house, Sir. Not mine.”

“Answer the question, Killian,” Darien said.

Killian eyed the punching bag, but didn’t swing. “I want to be.”

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