Page 22

Twenty-One

Reign

After the whole gun thing that happened with Killian, I’ve been avoiding him.

I guess now it’s my turn to avoid Killian at all costs.

I have barely said any words to him since that night and now me and him are stuck in a plane together, less than twenty minutes away from France.

For my birthday I asked Papa if I can go on another mission, and he said I could as long as I bring all my guards plus Killian.

When I said no to Killian coming, Papa seemed shocked that I said no. I’m always trying to include Killian in things and Papa sees I’m getting along with him, so he was curious as to why I said no to Killian coming.

But Papa doesn’t know that he made me orgasm from a gun sliding back and forth against me. He doesn’t know that Killian, the guy he currently hates the most, bit and tugged on my nipples to make me orgasm.

That’s all I can think of when I look at Killian. No one has ever handled me so roughly and intensely.

It makes me wonder what else he can do. The dark and curious side of me is yearning to know and learn more from him.

Right now, he is sitting on the right side of the plane, looking at something on his phone while I’m on the left side holding a book in my hand, pretending to read.

I keep looking up at him and have been stuck on the same page for about an hour. It’s a smutty page from this book called Lies Of My Monster, it’s a mafia romance by one of my favorite authors. Ironic how I’m reading about the mafia and actually living in one.

One of the smut scenes is happening and every time I read a few lines I immediately start thinking of Killian and everything he did to me that night.

He doesn’t notice I’m staring and if he does, then he doesn’t say anything.

Killian hasn’t been distant or anything, he’s been normal, maybe a little more flirty and talkative to me than usual but we don’t hang out much anymore ever since that night which was Monday and today is Friday.

Since then, Killian has been discreetly grabbing my hand and rubbing his thumb on my fingers or palm. He sometimes trails his fingers up my arm, sending shivers down my spine, when we’re at the dinner table. Let’s not even get started on the thigh grabbing. Every breakfast and dinner Killian always has his hand on my thigh, despite me trying to move it because I can’t risk Papa killing him for it.

But when I run up to my room, I smile because I love the forbidden aspect of this.

It’s the fact that no one knows what we’re doing because it’s wrong.

We shouldn’t be doing this, flirting, the small touches and linger of the fingers, it’s wrong but it feel so right.

The fact that no one can know what we’re doing behind closed doors because it’s not right for either of us.

He could get killed and Papa could hate me.

It’s not right but being with Killian, I can’t keep the smile contained.

Every touch, every linger of his fingers makes me want more.

But I’m way too scared to actually ask for it.

He hasn’t said much since Papa said he was going on the mission with me.

Killian asked me what clothes I brought, to start conversation, to which I replied a few dresses and cute skirts. He said those weren't good enough for a mission and that I need better clothes because it’s not fashion week. He made me put some other clothes that are more fit for a mission before he finished packing.

During the whole flight we haven’t said much.

“Ms. Pierce and Mr. De Luca, we’re about to land so if you want to put on your seatbelts for landing that would be great,” the attendant says before going back to the dickpit.

I listen to her and put my seatbelt on while Killian, who thinks he is a badass or something, just continues going on his phone.

The plane lands smoothly without any issues. Killian and I get off and get inside a black Escalade that was already waiting for us. The drive to the hotel is quiet.

Killian is still on his phone, barely looking at me which makes me want to grab the phone and literally throw it out the window.

“So.” I clear my throat.

Killian looks at me. “So?”

“So have you ever been to Paris?”

Killian types on his phone. “Yea, a few times.” He puts the phone in his pocket when he’s done and then gives me his full attention. “What about you?”

“I’ve been a bunch. I love Paris. The food is one of my favorite things about Paris.”

“Who have you gone with?”

“Just family.” I wonder if he’s ever came here with someone special. Usually, Paris is for couples who are in love and possibly about to get married. Paris is a place full of love. It’s quiet for a few more minutes before I get over the silence and awkwardness. “So, we should probably talk about-”

“About what?” Killian furrows his eyebrows, looking genuinely confused about what we should be talking about.

“About the whole gun, Russian Roulette thing.” He stays silent, still looking genuinely confused as if it never happened. “Where you made me do that thing on the gun.”

Killian licks his bottom lip slowly and nods his head. “And? What about it?”

So, he does remember.

“I feel like we should probably set boundaries maybe? I mean it got out of hand-”

“Reign.” Killian cuts me off and I feel myself blush and narrow my eyes on him. “What happened that night, will keep happening. You wanna know why?” Killian says quietly, leaning closer to me.

“Why?” I say in a low tone, still staring up at him.

“Because from the moment you looked up at the stars with those big blue eyes of yours, I knew I was going to make you mine one way or another Reign.” Killian reaches his hand towards my lips and his thumb grazes my bottom lip. “What happened Monday night will keep happening because I want you. And I always get what I want, Reign.” His touch feels like fire on my lip, but I don’t lean away from him.

I like the feel of his touch.

Killian is aggressive and dark, and it makes me want to know more.

It makes me want more.

“Ms. Pierce and Mr. De Luca, we’re here,” the driver says, ruining the small moment between Killian and I.

Killian leans away and his touch disappears. He gets out of the car and a valet opens my door.

Killian and I walk inside, side by side, towards the front desk. The woman behind the desk smiles widely before saying, “Hi, welcome to Ritz Paris, are you guys checking in today?” the woman says with a strong accent.

“We made a reservation. It’s under Malcom Pierce,” Killian says.

The woman types a few keys on her computer before looking up at us. “You guys booked the Windsor Suite?” Killian nods his head. “Perfect. Here is your key card to the private elevator.” She slides a card to Killian. “James will escort you to the room.”

Wait there’s only one room?