Deadly Oath

13. Sabrina

13

SAbrINA

I ’m not sure I’ll ever get used to how hungry Kian feels, every time he touches me.

When his mouth covers mine, his tongue stroking along the seam of my lips insistently, I forget for a moment that he’s bloody and bruised, his hair slicked back like it was either wet or sweaty and has started to dry, wearing a pair of workout shorts with blood splatter on them and a t-shirt. I don’t know what happened to him, or what’s going on, but all possible questions die on my lips as he kisses me like a starving man.

He looks primal, almost animalistic, standing there, and he’s kissing me the same way, his hands roving over my shirt and down to the waist of my jeans as his hands find their way underneath the fabric.

He’s all need, and it rouses the same in me. Questions that I should be asking pound through my head, but they keep getting lost in the fog of desire that springs up the moment I feel his rough palms against my skin, the moment those hands slide back down to grip my ass and pull me in hard against his taut body.

I suck in a breath at the feeling of his erection pressing into my thigh. He feels almost harder than last time, if that’s possible, and as his tongue pushes into my mouth, stealing my breath, I have no idea what’s about to happen.

His hands curl under the curve of my ass, picking me up and crushing me to him as he turns in the direction of my bedroom. My legs go around him without thinking, my hands clutching at his shoulders as he keeps kissing me, his tongue tangled with mine as he staggers down the hallway toward the bedroom.

He must be hurting. His hands, his lip— he must be in pain, I don’t see how he’s not, but it doesn’t seem to matter to him. Every time I try to break the kiss, he captures my mouth again, teeth in my lip, tongue tangled with mine, almost as if he’s desperate not to stop.

It’s not until he spills me back onto the bed, hovering over me as he starts to yank up my t-shirt, that I manage to twist my mouth away from his.

“Kian, what happened?” I gasp, one palm against his chest as I meet his dark, lust-wild eyes. “You’re cut and bruised—what’s going on? Did someone hurt you?”

He shakes his head, his reddish-brown hair falling into his face as he looks down at me. “No,” he manages, his hands stilling on my shirt, pressed against my sides as he leans over me, one knee between mine. When my gaze flicks down, I can see his cock tenting his shorts, that thick ridge pushing outwards, straining for relief.

Arousal pools between my thighs, hot and urgent, and I’m tempted to ask questions later. To ask him to do what he did with his tongue again, so I can feel that exquisite pleasure.

Kian takes a deep, unsteady breath, his fingers flexing against my sides. “You saw me boxing that day in the gym, yeah?”

I nod, the pieces starting to fit together. “You got this from boxing?”

“Fighting, yeah. Unofficially. I had a fight tonight.” Kian’s chest heaves, and I feel a throb of excitement at the thought of him in a ring, facing off against another man, dripping sweat the way he was that day in the gym. I picture them circling each other, trading blows, gripping and wrestling, the violence of it, and I feel a thrill that I hadn’t expected. “That’s how I got banged up. ”

“Did you win?” I whisper, and a slow, feral grin spreads across his face.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ won.”

Before I can stop myself, I wrap my fist in the front of his t-shirt, and drag his mouth back down to mine.

Once again, there’s the difference between what I know I’m supposed to feel, and how I really feel. I’m supposed to be horrified, frightened, maybe even disgusted at the violence. I should be angry at Kian for exposing me to it, for letting me see this side of him instead of keeping it hidden.

But the truth is that it’s turning me on, my desire running hot at the salty iron taste of the blood on his lip, pressed against my tongue as I kiss him back with the same fervor that he kissed me. That the smell of sweat and metallic violence on his skin is making me want him more, making me want everything about him that’s real and primal and alive .

The men I’ve known all my life have always been brutal. I’ve always lived in the center of a circle of violence. But the difference is that they hid it around me. They put on crisp, expensive suits, drank champagne, danced to string music, and held polite conversation. Everything about who they were was covered with a veneer of respectability.

Kian is raw and real. He’s violent, but I see it, all out here in the open for me to accept or reject. And that reality pulses through me, awakening needs that I never knew I had. Making me want things I can’t put words to, or even really know how to picture.

All I know is I want him . Like this, here—now.

I tangle my legs around his, arching up as I slant my mouth against his, and Kian groans with a sound that’s almost pain. His hips thrust against mine, that hard ridge of his cock grinding against me, and his fingers curl into my shirt, yanking it up.

He breaks the kiss only long enough to strip my shirt off, his left arm sliding around my waist to lift me as he roughly strips off my bra as well. His callused palms cover my breasts instantly, molding them, scratching over my nipples as I moan and arch under his touch .

“You’re mine tonight, Sabrina,” he growls, his head dropping forward as his mouth connects with my throat, and he sucks at the soft flesh there. “All of you. I’m going to fuck you tonight, little rabbit. And I can’t fucking wait to feel you come on my cock.”

There’s no question, no asking permission. But then again, no one was ever going to ask to be my first. The only one who ever had the power to give my virginity away before this was my father—I was expected to simply lay down and spread my legs for whoever was told he could put a ring on my finger.

Now, if I say no, if I push Kian away—he would stop. I don’t think he would force himself on me. He has no claim on me, and no right to this—but he’s decided that it’s going to be his, and I can’t think of any argument against it that doesn’t wash away on a tide of arousal before it can even be fully formed.

I want this. I want him. And as he yanks at the button of my pants, jerking my jeans roughly down my hips, I grab his shirt and pull it up, wanting to see him shirtless again for the first time since I caught him at the gym.

Kian helps, ripping the shirt over his head with one hand as he works my jeans down with the other, and I suck in a breath as I see his bare torso.

There’s a bruise purpling on his ribs, and another on his lower abdomen, some dried blood flaking on his skin. But underneath it is taut flesh and ridged muscle, leading up to his broad chest and shoulders and corded biceps. And all of it is inked with tattoos, swirls and etchings of patterns drawn across his skin.

I reach up, touching him, and Kian sucks in a breath like he’s been burned. I’m bare beneath him, and he yanks down his shorts, kicking them away as, for the first time, all of his naked flesh comes into contact with all of mine.

The hot, heavy weight of his erection presses against the taut flesh of my lower stomach. Kian thrusts against me, groaning as his mouth dips to claim mine again, and his knee pushes mine apart with an urgency that makes my thighs spread without struggle.

He reaches down, his fingers dipping between my folds, and he moans again when he finds how wet I am. His fingers slide upwards, through the drenched mess that he’s made of me, up to my swollen clit as he swirls that wetness around it and rubs firmly.

“ Fuck , I need to be in you,” he moans, his fingers rolling steadily over my clit. “Come for me, princess. Come so I can fuck you.”

Pleasure spreads through me, hot and bright and burning, tightening that coil of building arousal in my stomach, pushing me closer to the edge. Dimly, I’m aware of how thick he feels against me, of the insistent throb of his cock, the slick, liquid sensation of his pre-cum against my skin. I remember how he stretched my lips when I slid them over him, how fucking big he is—and how I have no idea how he’s possibly going to fit inside of me.

But all of that seems like a distant worry, compared to the way it feels as he strokes my clit, his tongue tangling with mine in a matching rhythm, his chest heaving against mine as he urges me on. He seems desperate for my orgasm, desperate for me to come, and that only spurs me on, making me moan and writhe against him as I feel my muscles tense and coil, that precipice of ecstasy growing closer with every moment.

His thumb replaces his fingers swiftly, so swiftly he hardly misses a beat, rubbing back and forth insistently as I gasp and arch. I’m close, so fucking close, and I think he can tell, because he breaks the kiss and looks directly down into my eyes as they fly open.

“Come for me, princess,” he demands, and I feel that release sweep over me like a tide.

In the instant I feel the orgasm hit, pleasure fanning out through my every nerve, his two fingers plunge inside of me. I cry out at the sudden sharp, hot pain of it, the stabbing sensation of his fingers driving into my clenching pussy, tangling up with the intense pleasure and confusing every sensory part of me. I don’t know if it’s bad or good, pain or pleasure, but I’m coming on his hand, coming hard, and my hips buck upwards as I clench around his thrusting fingers.

Kian rears back, his knee shoving my legs wider still, and one of his hands grabs my upper thigh as the other reaches between us, lining up his swollen cockhead with my drenched entrance .

“ God , I’ve been fucking waiting for this,” he growls, and he thrusts .

For a moment, it steals my breath away, as if I’ve been slammed into by a force that knocks all the wind out of me. He thrusts into me with one hard, swift snap of his hips that sinks him into me to the hilt, his massive cock stretching me as he fills me up entirely. I feel him bottom out, his hips flush against mine as he leans over me, panting hard as he goes still.

There’s something feral in his eyes, a wild look that almost looks like victory, although it couldn’t possibly be that. It doesn’t make any sense. My head swims with pain and the foreign sensation of his cock inside of me, but underneath that, the aftershocks of pleasure from my orgasm, and the fact that the sensation of him filling me up, although strange, is also— good .

Kian shudders, his gaze still locked on mine as he starts to slide out of me. He’s so thick that I can feel every sensation, every inch of my inner flesh dragging over his, the friction stimulating us both. Kian’s chest and neck are flushed, his hands digging into the pillow on either side of my head as his hips pull back, and he moans with a sound of pleasure that seems to come from the deepest part of him.

“ God , you’re so fucking tight,” he gasps. “So tight and hot, so fucking good — fuck , I could come right now.”

“Are you going to?” I whisper, only realizing how ridiculous that sounds a moment after it slips from my mouth. But I feel dizzy, overwhelmed, startled at how quickly I could go from one state of being to another. I was a virgin a moment ago, and now I’m not. The thing that I was always told again and again that was the most valuable part of me stripped away in an instant.

“Oh no, princess,” Kian murmurs, reaching up to cup the side of my face in his hand. “I’m going to make this last.”

His gaze never leaves my face as he draws out of me, inch by inch, until only the swollen head is still inside of me. And then he pulls back, sliding out of me, reaching between us to grip his length as he angles it up.

I gasp when the slick, hot tip rubs over my clit. My hips arch upwards instinctively, seeking out another of the sharp jolts of pleasure that wash over me at the contact, and Kian chuckles darkly, shifting his hips so that his cock rubs over me again.

“You like this, princess?” he murmurs, repeating the motion. His tip feels slick and taut and swollen, firm as it presses against my most sensitive spot, and I swear I can feel the heat of his pre-cum leaking out against my clit. When he rubs again, I can feel that hot wetness.

“Yes,” I whisper, tilting my head back. “Oh god, yes—” My hips arch again, as Kian rocks against me, rubbing my clit with his cock the way he did with his fingers a few moments ago.

“Do you think you could come like this? You think you could soak my cock before I fuck you again?” His voice is silky, wrapping around me darkly, temptingly as he teases me with the tip. He taps his cockhead against my clit, slapping it lightly before rubbing again, and a cry of pleasure escapes me.

“Yes,” I whisper, swallowing hard. I can feel the pleasure building again, feel that taut, building need, and every shift of Kian’s hips brings me closer.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and he reaches up with his free hand, catching my chin in his fingers. He holds me there, forcing me to keep looking at him, to hold my gaze as his other hand rubs his cock back and forth over my clit.

It feels different from his fingers. It feels—filthier, somehow, and I feel hopelessly lewd as I writhe under him, twisting against the friction as I chase that delicious pleasure for the second time. I could become addicted to this, I think as I feel it build, to the feeling of his hard muscle and hot skin against mine, his thick length rubbing against me. I feel myself clench, wanting that feeling of him filling me up again, and the thought of it is what tips me over the edge.

I never really thought about what my first time would be like. On the occasion that it occurred to me to wonder, I thought it would probably be cold and unfeeling, a ceremonial taking of something that fully gave me to the man who would all but buy me from my father. I didn’t expect gentleness, tenderness, or romance. Which is, maybe, why I’m helplessly aroused instead of disappointed that Kian is taking me so roughly .

There’s passion in this. Raw, unfettered desire. And that’s better than anything I ever imagined.

I throw my head back as the orgasm hits me, my legs tightening around his as my hips arch up, our bodies grinding together as the heated waves of pleasure roll over me. I’m gasping for breath, wound tight, as I feel Kian shudder above me, his body going rigid for a moment as he stiffens, holding himself hovering over me with his fingers still clasped around my chin.

“God, I love watching you come,” he growls. “I’m so fucking close, Sabrina.”

The way he says my name at that moment, with a thick, desperate desire, sends shivers of pleasure over my skin. No one has ever spoken to me that way. No one has ever wanted me like this. It’s like I’ve spent my entire life in a desert and didn’t even know it, and now I’m being drenched in rain. I never knew how good it could feel to be desired, and Kian wants me badly. Even as inexperienced as I am, I know that.

I feel the thick press of his tip against my entrance as he starts to slide into me again, slower this time, as his entire body shudders above me. It’s as if he wants to savor every inch, his face taut with pleasure, his breath coming in gasps as he lets go of my face to grip the headboard above us, his other hand steadying himself on the pillow next to my head.

“Keep your eyes on me, princess,” he growls. “I want to see the look in your eyes while I fuck you. I want to see how good it feels for you, having my cock buried in you.”

Each word sends a jolt of pleasure through me, Kian’s voice raw with lust. He thrusts into me again, hips moving sharply, his rhythm starting to become disjointed as I hear him suck in a sharp breath. He sinks into me to the hilt, rocking against me as the taut skin of his pelvis rubs against my clit, and I let out a gasping moan.

There’s still pain, the burn of his intrusion not entirely gone, but it’s fading into pleasure that builds and builds with every hard thrust. Not enough to make me come just from his cock in me, not this time—but enough to promise more pleasure in the future .

“Oh, god ,” Kian moans, thrusting again, and my body responds instantly, arching up to meet him. I haven’t learned the rhythm yet, but I move on instinct, my hands sliding up to clutch at his shoulders as he grinds against me with each snap of his hips. “Oh, fuck. I’m going to fucking come, I?—”

For the first time since he stormed into my house and kissed me, it occurs to me that he didn’t use a condom. It didn’t come to mind at first—I never expected to think about condoms. If I’d married someone picked for me, as expected, they would never have come into play. A baby as soon as possible would have been the desired effect, with no reason to use protection.

But the last thing I need right now is a pregnancy. And I realize, with a jolt of fear mixed with forbidden arousal, that Kian is on the precipice of coming inside of me with no apparent intent to pull out.

“Kian!” I gasp his name, one of my hands pressing at his chest as his hips move sharply against me, the pleasure of him filling me again and again, threatening to steal both my breath and everything I want to say. My mind fogs with pleasure, my body moving with his even as I try to push him away. “Kian, you need to pull out?—”

Kian’s hips snap against mine, his hand clutching at the headboard as he moans. “I can’t— fuck , Sabrina—I can’t fucking stop, oh, fuck ?—”

His hips grind against mine, his cock stiffening inside of me, impossibly hard in the instant before I feel the first hot spurts of his cum. His back arches, his head thrown back as he lets out a groan of sheer pleasure, his muscles taut and rippling as he thrusts once more before holding himself as deeply inside of me as he can. “Fuck, fuck —” he moans, gasping as his hips roll against mine.

Fear pounds through me at the realization of what just happened, but it’s dampened by everything else. Kian controlled is gloriously handsome, but Kian undone is something else, an animalistic creature claiming me, possessing me, filling me in the most primal way he can. The heat of it fills me, shudders wracking him as he moans, his cock throbbing inside of me as I feel the hot stickiness of his cum already leaking out around his length onto my thighs .

“Oh, god,” he gasps, sagging forward, still clutching the headboard to hold himself up. “My fucking god, that was good.” His head drops forward, his chest heaving, before he looks up at me, his dark blue eyes still glazed with pleasure. “Fuck, princess.”

I swallow hard, feeling a fine shiver run through me. “I—that was—” I can’t find the words. It was so much more than I ever imagined my first time would be. It was more than I ever imagined sex would be for me at all. As Kian shifts inside of me, slowly pulling out inch by inch, I resist the urge to grip his shoulders and hold him here with me. Something in me resists the idea of him leaving me, wants to keep him buried inside, to do this all over again.

Kian lets out a hiss as he slides out, another shudder rippling through him. “God, you’re fucking tight,” he groans. “Even as wet as you are, you feel like you’re fucking holding onto me for dear life.”

“Is that good?” I manage as he rocks back on his knees, and he chuckles, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair.

“It’s fucking incredible,” he promises me. I stare at him, taking in his bruised body, still flaked with blood. His gaze drops down between my thighs, something heating in his face as he looks at me, and I feel my cheeks flush.

“You’re looking at me like—” Once again, I can’t find the words. I’m not even sure I entirely understand the look on his face. It’s almost victorious, once again, but I can’t make sense of that. He hasn’t won anything by having sex with me, except that he’s gotten to be my first. And I suppose maybe even men who aren’t seeking a bride who can trade her virginity for money and power want that.

“You have no idea what you look like right now.” His voice is husky, his darkened eyes trailing down my body, down between my legs again. “Fucking wrecked, in the best way. All sweaty and flushed, your pretty pussy opened up for me, dripping my cum. I could fucking get off again just looking at you like this.” His softening cock twitches between his thighs, as if to punctuate that statement, and I bite my lip.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask softly. “You look like you’re hurt.”

Kian scoffs, sliding off of the bed. “I’ve had worse,” he says flatly. “ Besides, it’s not as if I didn’t sign up for the fight myself. This is nothing compared to some I’ve been in.” He narrows his eyes. “Does it bother you?”

I shake my head, pushing myself up a little against my pillows. I feel exposed now that the fever of lust has passed, and I pull my knees up against my chest, blocking my most intimate parts from Kian’s gaze. “No. The opposite, actually,” I admit, and Kian grins rakishly.

“Seeing me like this turned you on, hm? That’s how we ended up like this?”

“It’s not the only reason.” I lick my lips nervously. “I wanted this. I wanted it since you kissed me in the gym. I just—needed some time. This has all happened really fast.” I draw in a slow breath, feeling the stickiness on my thighs again. “Do you happen to know where I can get a contraceptive here? Will the doctor here give me one, if I go in?”

The thought of going into the small-town clinic here and asking for a morning-after pill makes my face heat. Kian shakes his head, and I feel my stomach drop.

“Doubt it. You’d need to go to a different practice. Somewhere in Louisville, maybe. But you don’t need to worry about it,” he says, and his tone is so convincing that I almost find myself believing him.

“I don’t need to—what on earth makes you say that?”

“It was one time. Hardly anyone gets pregnant the first time. And I’ve been tested recently, so you don’t need to worry about that.” He shrugs, reaching down for his shorts.

“Hardly anyone isn’t exactly a foolproof assurance,” I say through gritted teeth, the pleasurable haze of the afterglow rapidly fading in the face of this new reality.

Kian shrugs again, dragging his shorts on. My protests are momentarily lost as I watch the muscles in his arms and stomach ripple, his silky shorts hanging low on his hips. It feels almost wrong for him to put his shirt back on.

“Neither is pulling out, or a condom.” He straightens, and lets out a sharp breath as he sees the look on my face. “Did you have your period recently? ”

My face feels like it’s on fire. When I mumble out an answer, Kian looks satisfied.

“You’re not going to get pregnant,” he says, dragging his t-shirt on. “It’ll be fine. I didn’t mean to get carried away. I just—” He breathes out sharply again. “It felt so fucking good.”

For the first time, I find myself wondering if he’s telling the truth. But his expression looks open, sincere, and I don’t want to think that he might be lying.

Besides, I think as I watch him finish getting dressed, he can’t possibly want me to get pregnant. He’d probably be driving me to a clinic if he thought there really was a chance. This is a fling—he doesn’t want a baby with me.

That makes sense, and I feel relief as something uncoils in my stomach. I lean back against the pillows, grabbing a throw blanket as the cool air starts to register, making my skin prickle. Kian notices, sliding onto the bed next to me as I tuck the blanket around me.

“Do you want me to leave, princess?” he asks, reaching out to touch my chin with one finger. “I’ll go, if you want.”

I shake my head, suddenly very certain of one thing. I don’t want to be alone again—not yet, anyway.

“No,” I say softly. “Stay as long as you want.”