Killian leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his powerful chest, watching me with that same predatory intensity.
“You don’t have to.”
”I want to,” I said, already moving to the sink.
I turned on the water, letting it run hot, and began rinsing the plates.
The warm water splashed over my hands, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning inside me.
I could feel him behind me.
Watching.
His eyes burning into my back, tracing the curve of my ass beneath the short nightgown, the way the silk clung to my body.
Every second that passed made the heat between my legs worse.
My clit throbbed painfully.
My pussy clenched around nothing, aching to be filled.
I tried to focus on scrubbing a plate, but my hands were shaking.
Fuck.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I spun around to face him, chest heaving, cheeks flushed.
The nightgown had ridden up slightly from my movements, barely covering the bottom curve of my ass.
Killian’s eyes dropped instantly to my thighs, then slowly dragged back up to my face.
He knew.
He understood exactly what I needed without me saying a word.
He pushed off the counter with deliberate slowness, the muscles in his chest and arms rippling under his inked skin as he stalked toward me.
Each step made the air between us thicker, heavier, charged with raw sexual tension.
He stopped just inches away—so close I could feel the heat radiating from his powerful body like a furnace.
The clean, masculine scent of him—soap from his morning shower mixed with something darker, more primal—wrapped around me and made my head spin.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
My breath caught sharply in my throat.
My pussy gave a hard, involuntary clench, sending a fresh rush of slick heat flooding between my thighs.
I was so embarrassingly wet that a single, warm drop of arousal slipped slowly down my inner thigh, tracing a glistening path toward my knee.
There was no point in pretending anymore.
No point in playing the faithful wife.
My body had already betrayed me completely.
I looked up into his burning blue eyes—eyes that had gone almost black with lust—and whispered, voice trembling with desperate need, “Bend me over the counter and fuck me hard.”
A slow, wicked smirk spread across his handsome face, transforming him into something dangerously predatory.
The kind of smile that promised both pleasure and ruin.
“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”
Before I could draw another breath, Killian’s large, rough hands were on me.
His fingers dug possessively into my waist as he spun me around with effortless strength, pressing my front flush against the cool marble countertop.
The sudden contrast between the icy stone and my overheated, flushed skin ripped a sharp gasp from my lips.
My breasts flattened against the marble through the thin nightgown, my sensitive nipples dragging deliciously against the smooth surface and sending sparks of pleasure straight to my clit.
He kicked my feet apart roughly, spreading my legs wide until I was completely open and vulnerable.
Then, with one swift, impatient motion, he shoved the short silky nightgown up over my hips, bunching the fabric around my waist like a useless belt.
Cool air kissed my bare ass and dripping pussy, making me shiver.
I was utterly exposed—ass up, back arched, my swollen, glistening pussy on full display in the bright morning light streaming through the windows.
No panties.
Nothing to hide how desperately ready I was for him.
My folds were puffy and slick, my clit peeking out swollen and needy, a thin string of arousal already dripping from my entrance.
“Fuck,” Killian growled behind me, the sound low and animalistic.
“Look at this pretty pussy.
Still so fucking wet from last night.
You’ve been dripping for me all morning, haven’t you?
Walking around in this tiny little nightgown, pretending you’re not a desperate little slut for your brother-in-law’s cock.”
I moaned softly, shame and arousal twisting together in my belly as I pushed back against his touch, silently begging for more.
“Yes… please, Killian.
I need it.”
His fingers dipped between my soaked folds, sliding easily through the copious slickness.
He circled my swollen clit once, twice, applying just enough pressure to make my hips jerk.
Then he pushed two thick fingers deep inside me in one smooth thrust, curling them perfectly against that sensitive spongy spot that made my eyes roll back.
I cried out sharply, my walls clenching greedily around the intrusion.
“Oh God—”
”So fucking tight,” he murmured, voice thick with lust as he pumped his fingers slowly in and out, scissoring them to stretch my walls.
The wet, squelching sounds of his fingers fucking my drenched cunt echoed obscenely in the quiet kitchen.
“This pussy is going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.
Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”
He withdrew his fingers with a lewd pop, leaving me empty and aching.
I heard the rustle of fabric as he shoved his sweatpants down his muscular thighs.
The heavy, hot length of his thick cock slapped heavily against my right ass cheek, making me whimper.
He was massive—much thicker and longer than Joe had ever been.
The fat, veined shaft pulsed with need, the swollen head already leaking beads of pre-cum that smeared across my skin.
Killian gripped the base of his cock and rubbed the leaking tip up and down my slit, coating every inch of himself in my abundant juices.
He teased my entrance, nudging just the head inside before pulling back, then dragged the underside of his cock along my swollen clit repeatedly until I was whimpering and grinding back against him like a bitch in heat.
“Beg for it,” he ordered, his voice dark and commanding, one hand still gripping my hip hard enough to bruise.