Maybe she really was a prostitute.
The thought was in no way comforting. It only made her all the more anxious to leave.
Stop thinking! The voice in her head hissed and she had to agree with it. Thinking wasn’t helping.
Sucking in a deep breath, she reached for his buckle. The cool metal kissed trembling fingers only to be captured a second later. Long, tapered fingers curled effortlessly around the expanse of her hands. The hold was firm, but gentle in his restraint.
Confusion and surprise flicked her gaze to his face, to those intense, black eyes and full mouth. It was probably a bad time to notice when she was trying to keep her mind blank, but he really was ridiculously beautiful. The knowledge didn’t ease the anxiety eating at her insides, but the fact that he wasn’t some fat, hairy slob was a kind of small comfort.
“I thought…”
She was drawn off her knees and pulled up onto his lap. His toned thighs cradled her backside as she was made to straddle his hips. Cool leather shifted beneath her knees, a contrast to the scalding hot palms that released her hands to curl around her waist. She was pulled closer. So close, they shared the same air with every exhale. So close she could count each individual lash circling his darkened eyes. One hand pulled forward and captured her chin between long fingers. Her face was tipped even closer.
Juliette gasped, a weak, pitiful sound that seemed to ignite the fire in his eyes. The light flickered with a glimmer of triumph that stole a shiver through her.
“You should have left, a ghrá.” His low, seductive drawl snagged on the few wisps of air she’d managed to coax into her lungs and tore them from her. She floundered while he watched her with those predatory eyes. “You should have escaped whilst you had the chance. Now you’re mine, little lamb.”
Mesmerized by his eyes, lured by his scent, captivated by the feel of his hands gliding to her hips, Juliette could only hold her breath while he dared her to do something she had no experience in. Every prickling sensation was brutally aware of his callused fingers inching up the soft skin of her thighs and dipping beneath the fabric of her skirt to graze her hips. Juliette’s whimper crashed into the back of the teeth she clamped over her lip, but the sound still filtered from her throat in an embarrassing moan.
Damn it. She wasn’t supposed to be enjoying herself. That hadn’t been part of the plan. But there was no stopping it now. Her body was freefalling into a whirlwind of everything it had been deprived of for the last seven year. It was thrumming for everything he was offering her without a shred of care. It made no difference that her mind was against the whole thing when he had so expertly tamed her body to his will.
Hard hands curled into the globes of her backside and she was dragged over the hard lump nestled beneath his pants. The heat of their bodies coming together burned through fabric. The rigid length of him slid perfectly up the heart of her being, hitting every critical point right to the taut muscle at the top. The slow grind elicited a rush of unexpected heat to plow into her. It welled up through her in a single swoop of arousal that had her grabbing for his shoulders. One of them groaned, low and guttural that sounded infinitely too loud in the fraught silence. It was only when he pushed down on her hips while lifting his and she gasped that she realized—with some degree of horror—that the sounds were coming from her.
“That a girl,” he drawled in that delicious accent of his. “Tell me what you like.”
She couldn’t think of a single response to that. She couldn’t think period. Her mind had become a wasteland of desire and guilt. The two coiled around each other in a vicious war that made her want to cry.
It had been years since she’d come anywhere near an orgasm. Years where she hadn’t even touched herself and the need was killing her. Worse than that was the knowledge that she had all but abandoned her morals in the time it took to climb into a stranger’s lap, but she wanted this. She wanted him. As wrong as it was.
Yet the moment she peered into those impossibly dark eyes, there was no denying the sweet flutter of arousal that swept through her belly. She couldn’t ignore the ache. Her body was lost in a sea of desire and nothing else mattered. The fact that his eyes were promising things that made her pussy clench and her nipple tighten didn’t help calm the waves washing over her.
His hands felt their way over her eager body, fanning the fires bursting through her in a rainbow of colors. Against her mound, his cock worked her approaching climax with a skill that had her delirious for something only he could provide. All the while, he continued to fuck her with his eyes. He plunged deep inside her and rode her emotions hard. She could have orgasmed from the look alone.
“I want a taste of your pussy, little lamb,” Killian hissed into her ear as he twisted his fingers around the straps of her camisole. “I want to open you wide right here and feast on you until you can’t walk straight.”
Christ, how was she supposed to keep her head when he was saying things like that?
“Please,” she breathed. She begged. Her fingers tightened around fabric of his blazer. Her body arched deeper into his. “I need—”
“Up,” he commanded.
Juliette wasted no time scrambling off him. The roof of the limo grazed the top of her head, forcing her to stay stooped as she dropped unceremoniously into the seat next to him. She waited with her breath held as he shrugged out of his blazer and carelessly pitched it aside. His tie followed in a streak of solid emerald slashing into the air before fluttering to the ground. Juliette hurriedly kicked off her shoes. The black heels struck the carpet with a muffled thud and lay forgotten.
Killian lowered himself down on his knees in front of her. It didn’t seem to bother him in the least to be kneeling at her feet. He didn’t seem to care about anything but getting his hands on her hips and jerking her roughly down the leather seat. Her skirt bunched in a wrinkled mess about her waist, exposing the painfully plain material of her panties stretched over the lips of her pussy.
“You’ve soaked through.” The pad of one thumb traced the wet patch in lazy circles from hole to clit. Each pass over the nub they could both clearly see poking up against her panties increased the flow. “Can you feel just how wet you are?”
He gave her no chance to respond when his hands closed around the supple flesh of her thighs. Her knees were lewdly splayed and the place in between was filled by his lean hips. Her choked gasp was met by the vicious glint in his eyes as he pressed over her, pinning her to the leather with his torso. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Her lips parted. They tingled in eager anticipation as he drew closer. Her fingers tightened in the sleeve of his dress shirt. The fabric wrinkled and she knew she was damaging it beyond repair, but the only thing she could bring herself to focus on was the mouth a heartbeat away from hers.
He shifted his weight higher. The leather beneath her squeaked with the adjustment. On either side of her hips, the seat dipped beneath his hands as he settled, aligning the full weight of his erection against her mound once more. A sound escaped her that she couldn’t even identify. It was something between a whine and a whimper, but it came from somewhere deep in the pit of her body. Her companion rocked his hips forward and her entire body jerked. Her cry was louder, desperate, and it rang through the car.
“Like that?” he murmured, doing it again, but slower.
Cotton mouthed and irrationally dizzy, Juliette gave a single, rapid nod. “Yes.”
Hungry eyes devoured her through the thick fringes of his lashes. His hands lifted. They wrapped in the straps of her top and dragged them leisurely over the slopes of her shoulders. The painfully slow descent tugged the hem down her chest, over the swell of her breasts to catch on the puckered tips, tugging and teasing before popping free. Juliette’s hiss was met with triumph before he was focused on the flesh he’d uncovered.