“Well?”
Vi nodded approvingly. “Nice. So, you’re done.”
She started to thank her again, but stopped herself. The first time had been awkward enough. But she smiled and headed for the door.
Phil was still standing there when she emerged. She offered him a half grin before making her way carefully down the stairs; it had been a damn long time since she’d worn heels that high. Halfway, she stopped and turned back, kicking herself for not having asked if she could help straighten some of the mess made on her behalf.
Phil was gone, she noted with some surprise. Vi’s door was still open and she assumed he’d gone in to help her tidy up.
“She said she’d raise my allowance,” Juliette heard Vi say softly. “I just have to stop five fingering my wardrobe.”
There was a hint of self-deprecation in the remark.
“I warned you about that,” Phil reminded her calmly. “Remember what happened last time?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Vi grumbled.
“I know it’s not what you wanted, but it’s a small step in the right direction,” Phil encouraged softly. “Don’t give up.”
“I don’t know why I have to bother.” Something thumped across the room. “This isn’t going to work.”
“It will. You need to be patient and—”
“Persistent. Yeah, I know. But it’s so … weird. I’m not used to being … nice.”
“Remember what not being nice got you?”
Vi exhaled. “What if it doesn’t work?”
“Patience and—”
“If you say persistence, I will hit you.”
Juliette turned away. She had no idea what they were talking about, but whatever it was, she would corner Phil about it later. Juliette was too tired for games and if there was something Vi needed, one of them needed to tell her. But later. Already an hour had passed and she had made Killian wait long enough.
Javier glanced up from his post at the table by the window when she hit the bottom landing. She offered him a nod before making her way towards the kitchen and the steady flow of chatter weaving through the corridor. Her heels clicked a bit too loudly in the rumbling emptiness of the place, sounding like firecrackers going off. But she made her way to the doorway and paused.
Her tiny kitchen was packed with people. Mrs. Tompkins and Killian stood at the island, chatting on like old friends while Killian’s armed forces stood in various spots around them, guarding without looking like they were guarding. All heads lifted when she stepped over the threshold. The men looked away just as quickly.
Killian didn’t.
He glanced back over his shoulder and faltered mid speech. The lines of his shoulders tightened even as he straightened. Eyes the infinite black of the night sky bore into her and carved deep grooves along every curve. She felt the weight of his desire wash over her like the slow rise of dawn creeping across the bed in the morning. It singed every inch of her.
“Apparently I have to make sure you don’t look at other women while we’re there,” she told him with a teasing quirk of her mouth.
Amusement shimmered across the inky surface of his eyes. “Would it put your mind at ease if I assured you I haven’t noticed another woman since you?”
It was funny, but the thought of Killian looking at other women had never bothered her. She hadn’t even thought about it until Vi had pointed it out. Maybe it was because it had been stated in the contract that neither of them would see other people in their twelve months together or maybe because he had never given her a reason to worry, but … she hadn’t. Oddly enough, she still wasn’t worried. Nevertheless, his words sent a warm shiver through her.
“That so?”
“Aye, love.” He crossed towards her in three long strides and stopped when he was close enough to lower his head and capture her mouth in a deep, toe curling kiss. She was breathless when he released her. “But you might want to bring a second dress.”
The low growl against her ear rippled down her spine in rivulets of fire to burn in her belly. Her nipples hardened to sharp points that strained through the material of her dress. His gaze lingered on them before trailing back up to meet hers, darker, if possible. That simple gesture rocked through her as powerfully as though he’d reached out and stroked them.
“You … you said you had work,” she whispered.
Four deft fingers whispered feather light up the curve of her side. They moved to spread across the small of her back and bow her into him. Unbalanced by the motion and her heels, she hit his chest a bit harder than was necessary. Her hands flew to his shoulders. But he caught her easily.
“You ought to know how good I am at multitasking,” he drawled lazily into her ear.
Her face heated up, but it was nothing compared to the spike in her temperature. Her entire body burst with an explosion of warmth triggered by the mere memories alone. She shifted as the hot rush of arousal trickled down the inside of her legs.
Killian eyed her questioningly when she mashed her lips together and grimaced with embarrassment.
“I’m … I’m not wearing panties,” she confessed in a whisper that was no more than the stiff movement of her lips. “The dress doesn’t…” She broke off when his hands snaked down the curves of her hips, fingers dragging, possibly in search of elastic under the fabric. “It’s too tight,” she finished breathlessly once his palms had settled firmly over her backside.
“Christ, woman!” he snarled low under his breath.
Legs unstable, she tugged herself out of his bruising grip. “I have to make a quick bathroom run, but I’ll meet you at the car, okay?”
He didn’t say a word, but the look he gave her … oh, the look raged with an inferno so wild she felt the flames lick strips off her skin. Lightheaded, she staggered back a step. Then another until she had extracted herself from his heat. She made a weaving path down the hall in the direction of the powder room. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Vi and Phil making their way downstairs. Laurence had joined Javier at the bay window. But no one paid her any attention as she slipped into the washroom and began to shut the door behind her only to have it fly out of her grasp. Another figure ducked in after her and closed them in with a resounding snick of the locks latching into place.
“Killian?”
His hands went to the fastens on his pants.
“We can’t.” She backed into the counter, not to escape, exactly, but to brace herself. “You’re injured.”
“I could be on my deathbed and I’d still fuck you,” he panted, shoving his trousers down around his ankles.
The belt jingled loudly in the cramped space. It was followed by the snap of rubber as the condom went on down the hard length of his cock. His hands were on her then, grabbing her and lifting her. The cold marble came up against the bare skin of her backside as her skirt was bunched up around her waist. Bruising hands gripped her hips and she was yanked to the very edge. Juliette was given no time to react, not even to gasp when his mouth slammed down over hers, hot, hungry, and violent.
He pushed inside her with more gentleness than she knew he normally would have displayed. Their mutual sounds of satisfaction pulsed through the room as their bodies met in that beautifully perfect way. Juliette clutched him tight as he moved inside her in smooth, fluid strokes, hitting every nerve with brutal accuracy. Her fingers gouged into his shoulders, biting in deep as the world rocked beneath her. She came into the side of his neck with a cry of his name. He shuddered a split second after with a murmur of something in a language she didn’t understand, but it sounded dark and possessive. He stayed buried inside her, even when he raised his head and peered down into her face. The beast continued to prowl just behind his eyes, still hungry, but temporarily sated.
Carefully, he pulled out, eliciting a whimper from her and a groan from him as the sensitive walls of her sex clutched at him, not wanting him to leave.