Crown of Lies (Pretty Ruthless Monsters #2)

41. Quinn

41

QUINN

As we pull into the parking lot, the neon sign of the club comes into view, pulsing with an electric energy that seems to match my racing heartbeat. Killian cuts the engine and swings his leg over the bike.

I take his hand, allowing him to help me off the bike. His touch lingers, sending a shiver down my spine.

We approach the entrance, and Killian produces two masks from his jacket pocket. Mine is familiar—the same one I’ve worn so many times before. As I slip it on, I feel a sense of transformation wash over me. I’m no longer just Quinn. I’m whoever I want to be tonight.

Killian puts on his own mask, and for a moment, I’m struck by how different he looks. He’s suddenly mysterious and anonymous and… dangerous now.

We step inside, and I’m immediately enveloped by the pulsing beat of the music. The club is different tonight—the lights are cycling through various hues, bathing the crowd in ever-changing colors. One moment we’re illuminated in an otherworldly purple glow, the next we’re plunged into a deep, sensual red.

As my eyes adjust to the shifting light, I notice the crowd around us. It’s a typical night at the club—bodies moving to the rhythm, most of the faces obscured by masks, the air thick with desire and possibility and sex.

A man nearby catches sight of me, his gaze lingering a bit too long. Before I can react, Killian’s arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close. His body tenses, and I can feel the possessive energy radiating off him. He shoots a glare at the man, who quickly averts his eyes.

I lean into Killian’s embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. The music pulses around us, and a sudden thought strikes me.

“Hey,” I say, raising my voice to be heard over the music. “Did you ever come to places like this before… you know, before you saw me here that first time?”

His eyes meet mine from behind his mask. “No,” he replies simply.

His answer catches me off guard. “Really? That surprises me,” I admit. “I mean, you clearly have a lot of… interests. I would’ve thought this would be the perfect place to explore them.”

Killian’s hand tightens on my waist, pulling me closer. “I’ve always had darker tastes,” he says. “More violent cravings. But I never felt a strong need to explore them.”

I tilt my head, studying him. “Never?”

He shakes his head. “Just like I’d never felt the need to kiss anyone. Until you.”

His words send a jolt of heat straight to my core. I remember our first kiss, how it felt like pure electricity coursing through my body.

The memory and his words spark a realization that hits me like a tidal wave. I’m not just another woman to him. I’m the exception. The only one who’s ever made him want to explore this side of himself.

This dark, dangerous man, with all his violent cravings and darker tastes, wants me. Only me.

Without thinking, I grab Killian’s hand and pull him through the crowd. We stumble past writhing bodies until we reach a shadowy corner. I push him against the wall, my body flush against his.

“Quinn, what?—”

I cut him off, lifting my mask just enough to press my lips against his. For a moment, he’s still, surprised. Then he responds with a hunger that takes my breath away. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer as if he can’t bear any space between us.

When we finally break apart, both breathless, Killian’s eyes are dark with desire. “What was that for?” he asks.

I lean in close, my lips brushing his ear. “You made it clear I was spoken for,” I whisper. “I’m just returning the favor. Making sure every woman here knows there’s only one pussy you’ll be inside tonight.”

I pull back slightly, meeting his gaze. “And it’s mine.”

A low growl escapes Killian’s throat, and suddenly our positions are reversed. My back hits the wall as he presses against me, his body hard and unyielding.

“Is that so?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting along my jaw. “And what makes you think you have any say in the matter?”

I tilt my head, exposing my neck to him. “Because I’m the only one you want,” I say, my voice breathy but confident. “The only one who’s ever made you feel this way.”

He growls, his hand curling around my throat, sending a hot shiver down my spine. I can feel the leashed tension in his body, that barely contained violence that always has me on the tightrope between pleasure and pain.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asks, his voice a gravelly whisper.

“Yours,” I rasp out, my eyes fluttering closed as his thumb strokes my sensitive skin.

“And what do you want me to do with it?”

I open my eyes, staring up into his hidden ones, hungry and dark. “Fuck it. Take it hard.”

“How do you want to be fucked, siren? Like my dirty little whore, or a good girl?”

I don’t hesitate. “Fuck me like I’m your whore, Killian.”

A satisfied noise rumbles in his chest, vibrating through my body where we connect. He lifts me then, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me away from the crowd, away from the prying eyes.

I feel the change in atmosphere as we enter a private room. The red light shifts, bathing us in its dark, sensual glow. I can see his back reflected in the mirrors on the wall, and I can’t help but think of the first time Killian and I were here, in this club, giving in to our desires.

“Do you remember the first time?” he asks, as if he’s reading my thoughts. “The first time I tasted your sweet pussy here at this club?”

His thumb strokes my lower lip, and I bite down gently, my eyes never leaving his.

“How could I forget?” I answer. “I still think about that night. Often.”

His hand moves between us, freeing his thick cock. Every move he makes is deliberate, dominant. He’s in control, and I love the way he lets me know—taking his time, standing over me, teasing me even though he knows I have absolutely no patience and even less self-control when I’m around him.

“Get on your knees.”

His voice is low, commanding. I obey, my heart pounding as I lower myself to the floor.

“Look at you, just as beautiful as the first time.” His gaze rakes over me, and he reaches out, his fingers tangling in my hair. “On your knees, just like this, in that little black dress. You didn’t know it then, but you were mine from that moment on.”

I swallow, nodding, unable to speak, the memory vivid in my mind.

“You wanted to please me, didn’t you? You wanted to take all of me in your mouth, to make me happy.” The last part is a statement, not a question. He knows the answer. “I could see it in your eyes, the determination, the desire. But you didn’t expect it to be so hard, did you?”

I shake my head as I relive that moment. “No,” I whisper.

“You gagged so beautifully, struggled to take me all. But you tried so hard, didn’t you? Because you were mine.”

I nod again, my eyes never leaving his as he continues to stroke his cock. “I could see it in your eyes, the need to please me. To serve me. It was so clear, even then.”

He leans down, his lips brushing my ear. “I want to choke you with my cock, siren. I want to see you gag and gasp for air as you take me deep. You want that too, don’t you?”

I lick my lips, desire coursing through me. I nod, unable to speak for a second, my throat dry with anticipation.

“Yes,” I finally rasp.

“That’s right,” he says, his hand tightening in my hair as he guides my mouth closer to his length. “You want to be my good little whore. Just for me.”

“Yes,” I breathe again, my eyes fluttering closed as he pushes my head toward him.

“Open,” he commands, and I obey, my lips parting as he presses the head of his cock against my tongue. “That’s it, take it.”

I relax my jaw as he feeds his length into my mouth, inch by inch. I’m intimately familiar with his taste, the feel of him against my tongue, and I hum my approval, my eyes fluttering closed as I surrender to him.

“Just like that,” he says, his voice hoarse as he holds my head still, thrusting slowly, deliberately. “You’re doing so well, taking it all. So fucking good.”

I moan around him, vibrating his shaft, and he growls, his hand tightening in my hair. “Such a good girl. Taking it all, just like a dirty little toy.”

I’m his, completely and utterly, and in this moment, nothing else matters but his pleasure.

He pulls his cock away from my mouth and I gasp for air, my eyes closed as I try to catch my breath.

“I’m going to fuck your throat now,” he says, his voice hard. “I won’t be gentle.”

I know the signal—the only way to stop him when he’s like this. But I have no intention of using it. Not tonight. I want this. All of it.

“You remember the safe signal?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

I nod, unable to speak, my breath coming in short gasps.

“Good. Because I’m going to enjoy this. I’m going to fuck your mouth, use it, and take my pleasure from it.”

I don’t respond, just open my mouth and tilt my head back, offering myself to him.

In one smooth motion, he slides his thick cock between my waiting lips. I feel every inch of him as he slides deeper, filling my mouth, until I can’t breathe, can’t swallow. I gag, my eyes watering, and he growls, his hand tightening in my hair.

“That’s it,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Take it all. You’re doing so well, siren. So fucking good.”

I relax my throat, accepting his length, and he begins to move, slowly at first, then with more urgency. He uses my mouth, fucks my throat, and I let him, reveling in the way he dominates me.

“I was so fucking obsessed with you from the start,” he says, his hips snapping forward as he drives himself deeper. “The first time you got on your knees for me… I lost it. I couldn’t think straight. All I could see was you, on your knees, my cock in your mouth.”

He pulls out, then thrusts back in, his movements harsh and desperate. “You’re my good girl, taking it all. Such a dirty whore for me.”

I moan, the vibration of my voice sending a shudder through him.

“Fuck, siren,” he groans. “No one else has ever made me feel like this. It’s always been you. Only you.”

He continues to thrust, using my mouth for his pleasure, and I surrender to him, letting him take what he needs. I’m still, compliant, giving myself over to his control.

I surrender to the feeling, to being used by him. It ignites something in me—a fire that burns hot and insatiable. My body moves of its own accord, my hands reaching up to grip his thighs as he uses my mouth, my throat, taking his pleasure.

Each thrust sends sparks of desire coursing through me. I’m drowning in sensations, a sea of need, and I know I would do anything for him in this moment. I would give him everything if he asked.

Tears leak from the corners of my eyes—a mixture of the intensity of the moment and the physical sensation of his cock sliding down my throat. He notices, his gaze softening for a brief moment before he growls and thrusts again, burying himself deep.

He stills, his cock pressing against my throat, and I feel the slick trails of my tears on my cheeks. Tenderly, he reaches down and uses his thumb to brush the tears away.

The gesture, so unexpectedly tender, undoes me. It’s so much more than a physical sensation—it’s an acknowledgment of the depth of what passes between us. It’s ownership and possessiveness, domination laced with a tenderness that makes my heart pound.

His thumb lingers on my cheek, stroking gently, and he leans down, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “Mine.”

He owns me in this moment, body and soul, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a growl, he starts to move again, fucking my throat with deep, deliberate strokes. My eyes flutter closed as I give myself over to him, surrendering to the pleasure that pulses through me with each thrust.

He comes with a feral growl, flooding my mouth, his body tensing as he fills me. He stays like that for a moment, his cock throbbing between my lips, before he finally pulls out, giving me a chance to breathe.

He strokes my cheek, his thumb wiping away the remaining tears. “Do you want more?” he asks, his voice soft, a contrast to the harshness of his body’s demands.

I nod, wordless, wanting to show him how much I crave him. How much I need him.

He laughs, dark and deep. “Then get me hard again, little siren,” he whispers. “Make me want to bury myself inside you all over again.”