Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
The property is so big with dozens of cars lingering outside. It’s impossible to tell which of those cars belongs to staff or guests, so until I can be sure that the meeting is over, I’ll be staying right here.
Another hour passes when I realize the bay windows open up into a small balcony that overlooks the front of the property, and I put the unread book down before spending a few minutes trying to figure out how to actually open it.
After realizing I’m just an idiot who doesn’t understand a basic locking mechanism, I finally get it open and step out into the sun, pleasantly surprised to find a well-tended garden taking up the majority of the small balcony. Vines creep along the handrail and up the side of the home with flowers blooming and begging for attention. It’s like I’ve stepped out of reality and into a magical garden of beauty, and despite how much I love the rest of Killian’s home, this is easily my favorite part of the estate. However, that incredible pool comes in a close second.
I’ve barely had a second to take in all the beauty of the balcony garden when I hear someone making their way through the library, and the moment I feel his intense gaze on my back, I don’t even bother looking to see who it is.
A strange flutter builds in the pit of my stomach as he steps out onto the balcony and moves in behind me. When his breath hits my skin, my whole body trembles.
“You’ve been hiding up here,” Killian murmurs in that rich Romanian accent that sends burning electricity pulsing through my veins like wildfire. He reaches around me, bracing both hands on the balcony railing and keeping me caged.
“Not hiding,” I say, refusing to tell him the real reason I’ve been locked away in his library for the past three hours. “Krista mentioned that you had a meeting, so I figured I’d keep out of your way. I wouldn’t want to be a disturbance while you were working.”
Killian lifts his hand and brushes his fingers across my chin before turning my face to meet his stare. “You are anything but a disturbance,” he rumbles, those deep eyes locking right onto mine.
I suck in a breath as he steps in closer, his chest right up against my back. His fingers drop from my chin to my shoulder before trailing lower to my waist and finally to the hem of my skirt. He grinds his thick cock against my ass, and I push back against him, wanting to take anything he can offer me.
Within moments, my skirt is at my waist and as he takes my hip, he pushes inside of me, stretching me wide. I grip the railing, tilting my hips just enough to take him deeper, and in this position, knowing he can’t see my fading bruises from this angle, I welcome his every touch.
Killian takes me slowly, and with every thrust, I’m pushed closer and closer to the edge. “Oh God, Killian,” I groan. “More.”
His fingers bite into my hip. “You know my name.”
Oh shit.
My body stiffens, and I start to panic. “I do,” I breathe, unable to relax. “I’m sorry. I know you were intentionally keeping that from me. I didn’t go seeking that information, it just kinda fell into my lap.”
He’s silent for a moment when his hand slides around to my front and finds my clit. He rolls his fingers over the sensitive bud, and I push back for more, my hips jolting with desperation.
“F—fuck,” I stutter, my eyes rolling in the back of my head.
“It’s okay, my sweet angel. Relax. I don’t mind that you know my name. In fact, I like how it sounds on your lips,” he tells me, thrusting deep into me and stretching me so damn wide. “The question is, do you truly know who I am? What I do?”
My knuckles whiten as I clutch the railing tighter, the intense pleasure quickly overwhelming my system. I nod as I begin to pant, feeling my orgasm already building deep within. “Yes,” I breathe. “You’re Killian DeLorenzo, the head of the DeLorenzo Mafia.”
“And?” he says through a clenched jaw. “Are you scared of me?”
“Terrified,” I admit, swallowing over the lump in my throat, and standing by my word that I would always be honest with him . . . mostly.
“And yet,” he says with a forceful thrust that has me crying out with pleasure. “You still allow me inside of you.”
I nod again. “What you do and what you’re capable of is what terrifies me, but when it comes to you and me, you’ve shown nothing but kindness. I don’t believe you would ever intentionally hurt me,” I tell him. “I know I don’t know you nearly well enough to make a judgment call, but I feel like I can trust you.”