Page 80 of Bad Influence
“Needy baby.”
“Well, you’ve kept me waiting,” I grumble.
All that does is make him laugh again. “For your benefit.”
“Never been a fan of delayed gratification.”
“Then you’re not doing it right,” he counters.
Killian pushes a hand under my top and against my bare skin, making my stomach cave. Slowly, he drags it up as he continues kissing my neck.
As his hand meets the tight barrier of my sports bra, he lets out a groan, which makes me laugh. He pulls back, looking at my mouth with a frown before his mouth lands on mine again, as if he’s eating my laugh. His hand grabs my left tit, massaging and playing with it while his tongue devours my mouth.
I want all barriers gone between us. His room is only a few steps away but I don’t want him to stop what he’s doing. I’m so close to coming harder than any toy has ever made me come and if he stops now, I’ll never forgive him.
“Are you going to come, butterfly?” Killian groans. “Come all over my cock in the middle of this hallway. I’ll never be able to walk by here without thinking of you and getting hard.”
His tongue licks across the seam of my mouth. “I’ll love painting you like this, needy and desperate, eager to come.”
“If you make me come, I’ll let you paint me however you want,” I promise. I don’t say it only because I’m close to coming, but I mean every word. There’s a strange thrill in being painted by Killian and being the sole focus of his attention.
Heat flares in his eyes. “Be careful what you promise, butterfly. I can get addicted to both.”
“A man addicted to making me come? What a terrible, horrible thing that will be.”
Killian’s eyes hold a challenge. “You say that now, but what will you say when you’re tied to me 24/7 and exhausted from coming all the time?”
His hand leaves my breast and trails down to the waist bandof my shorts, pausing briefly. His eyes meet mine, a question in them.
I nod frantically. “Yes, please.”
Dipping his hand into my shorts, he pushes into my underwear. We both moan as his thumb rolls over my clit. I close my eyes, dropping my head back against the wall.
“You’re going to look at me when I make you come, baby,” Killian growls. “Open your eyes.”
I open my eyes and look at him. There’s a possessive look in his eyes which just adds to my state of arousal. He massages my clit and my mouth opens in a silent cry as my stomach flutters and contracts. I grip onto him tighter.
“Come for me like a good girl,” Killian commands. “Let me see what you look like when you give yourself to me.”
His words and his expert thumb have me coming harder than I have in my life. My pussy flutters, contracting around nothing and all I can think is, I can’t wait for the moment when he’s inside me. I groan, my heart beating so fast I can barely hear anything over its roar in my ears.
“The next time you come, it’s going to be on my cock,” Killian says.
His mouth meets mine, swallowing my cries of pleasure.
In the aftermath of the best orgasm of my life to date, we stay in the hallway, catching our breaths. Killian’s face is buried against my neck, hands gripping my waist. I have one arm wrapped around him, the other running through his hair. The world almost seems different from thirty minutes ago.
“I only came up to see if you’d finished my painting,” I say, amused.
Killian chuckles lightly. It makes me realize he’s laughed more today than he has the whole time I’ve been here. Turns out, all I needed to do was pretend to not want him while being wrapped around him.
“Come on,” he says, pulling back. “I’ll show it to you.”
Slowly, I unwrap my legs from around his waist and lower tothe floor. My legs feel like jelly as I try to stand and wobble a little. Killian smirks proudly as he grips my arm to steady me. I place a hand on my hip and arch an eyebrow.
“What’s that smirk for?”
“Feeling a bit weak in the knees?” Killian asks.
