Page 62 of Beneath Your Beautiful

He pulled me in front of him and wrapped his arms around my middle. “You look a lot like her. She was beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“And so is your art.”

“You think?”

“I don’t think it. I know it. It’s so vibrant with color. Like you. But it’s kind of peaceful too. The way you make me feel sometimes.”

I was so happy I made him feel that way that I nearly wept. Killian had changed a lot, and I didn’t know if it was because we’d verbally declared our relationship, but now he spoke more freely. He didn’t hold himself back like he used to, didn’t lock down his feelings as much, and I loved it.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Is that a trick question?”

“You and your dirty mind. You like empanadas?”

“I never had one.”

“Oh man. That’s just wrong.”

“You’ll have to show me the way.”

* * *

I straddled him and pressed my lips against the scar on his neck. His breath hitched, and I could feel his pulse beating wildly against my lips. His arms around me tensed as I left a trail of feather light kisses, following the path of the scar, but he didn’t push me away or try to stop me. “How did you get it?” I asked.

“A broken bottle.”

“What happened?”

“I got in a fight with a junkie.” His answer came out so smoothly, so well-rehearsed, that I knew it was the answer he gave anyone who asked. I also knew he was lying, but I didn’t push him for the truth. Just like I’d never asked him what kind of fighter he was or what he did before he started running the bar, or what his relationship with his father was like. Some things, I decided, needed to come directly from him. Whenever he was ready, and without my prompting, I hoped he would trust me with the truth. I had a feeling that the things he kept locked inside had been there for a long time, and his pain ran deep.

He flipped me onto my back and braced his arms on either side of me. “Do you want me?”

“Always.”

Killian held his weight on one arm and slipped two fingers inside me. “You’re always so wet.”

“Only for you.”

He reached for a condom in the bedside table. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his head down. “We don’t need it. I’m on the pill,” I murmured against his lips.

“I’ve never done it without a condom.”

“Good. I can be your first.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I never skip. Promise. I want to feel you inside me.”

He pulled back and studied my face. I gave him a reassuring smile and wrapped my legs around his waist. He kept watching my face as he entered me. Just the tip. Then he glided in. Slowly. Slowly. Like he was in no rush. His eyes closed as he pushed all the way inside and stilled. “Jesus. You feel so good.” I squeezed my muscles around him. “This is…fuuuck.”

I thrust my hips against him, but he was controlling the pace, gliding all the way in and almost all the way out like he wanted to make it last forever. It built slowly, but it was so powerful, this gentleness. He opened his eyes and looked into mine. In the dim shadows of my room, I saw his raw emotions, his vulnerability and his need for me and something else I couldn’t identify. I wondered if he saw the same thing in my face. If I was stripped bare, more naked than I’d ever been with him.

He lowered his head and kissed me, our tongues swirling together, our bodies moving in a graceful dance. Slow and rhythmic, almost like we were in a trance. My arms and legs held him close, my breasts pressed against his hard chest. Our rhythm sped up, and he thrust harder and faster, my hips rocking against him, desperate to get that sweet release.

“Killian,” I screamed.