Page 15 of Save Me the Trouble (Country Love Collection #12)

Chapter Eleven

Killian

L ester stopped outside her apartment building just as I finished my phone call to my grandmother.

I hadn’t left much room for her to get a word in, but I was going to put an end to this barrier between us.

I told my grandmother I’d found the woman I wanted to marry, and the arrangement with Embers was over.

Over her worries—her protests—I reminded her that this was our deal.

She wouldn’t give up on me and the business if I promised I wouldn’t give up on love.

When that started to look like the case, she’d contacted Embers, and now, they were no longer needed.

I left her with the consolation that the contract hadn’t been for nothing. If it hadn’t been for Embers, I wouldn’t have found Grace; I wouldn’t have fallen in love.

“Apartment 3B. Good luck, Mr. Crown,” he said like he knew I’d need it.

“Thank you,” I grunted and got out of the car, my phone clenched in my fist. The temptation to message her gnawed at me, but I didn’t want to give her the chance to run. If she was going to turn me away—truly put an end to this. It was going to be to my face…in private.

Desperation stampeded in my ears when I reached her door. God, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d felt nervous like this. Maybe the day I’d had to tell my grandmother the truth about losing all of my inheritance, but even then…

I lifted my hand and rapped on the door, listening for the low sound of conversation behind it.

“Mr. Crown?” Darcy answered, her wide eyes going even bigger when I stepped inside without an invitation. “What are you?—”

“I need to talk to Grace.” I tried to look for her but couldn’t see much past the hall.

Darcy barreled her arms defensively. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You know what’s not a good idea, Miss Miller?” I scowled and loomed over her. “Standing between a man and the woman he wants.”

Her jaw hit the ground.

“Now, will you please go get Grace?”

She snapped her mouth shut and nodded, pausing for a second to add fiercely, “But if you hurt her?—”

“I won’t.” It was a promise I intended to keep.

She rushed down the hallway, then there was a small cry followed by the swift pad of bare feet on the floor. My heart stopped when Grace appeared, still in the emerald dress I’d bought her and holding an open bottle of wine, her mascara a little fuzzy around her eyes.

Her eyes widened when she saw me, like she couldn’t trust what she was seeing. She’d looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her, and it took my breath away.

“Killian.” Her shoulders fell, her strength cracking. “What are you doing—You shouldn’t be here.”

Without a word, I closed the gap between us in two quick strides and cupped her face.

“I’m exactly where I should be,” I muttered, my lips not even an inch from hers.

“And I’m definitely somewhere I shouldn’t be,” Darcy muttered and grabbed her shoes and purse. “I’m going to my sister’s. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Grace.”

“Wait, Darcy—” The door shut on Grace’s protest, and she shivered in my arms. She shook her head, trying to regain control. “You can’t just…show up here and?—”

“Tell me why,” I demanded, resting my forehead to hers as my voice devolved into a low growl. “Tell me why when it’s what we both want.”

Her resolve started to crumble, the fire in her eyes dimming as she struggled with the truth she didn’t want to admit. “This isn’t professional,” she whispered, but there was no conviction in her voice.

“It’s never been professional,” I countered, skating my thumbs over her cheeks and feeling the trace of tears that crossed them before I got here.

My stomach tightened. “Not from the moment I first put you in my private office that first day. It was never about needing to create the profile, Grace. It was about wanting you to get to know me.”

She looked up at me, her eyes wide with shock and something else—something softer, more vulnerable.

“I want you,” I said simply. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.”

“No.” She tried to fight it, shaking her head. “I can’t.”

“Why?” I pressed, tipping her head so she couldn’t hide from my gaze. “Tell me the truth, Grace. Why do you keep fighting how we both feel? Is it because of him? Because of Sheetz?”

Her eyes searched mine for something—maybe a reason to resist, maybe a reason to give in.

“Tell me what happened,” I begged, hearing the words trust me punctuate the plea.

Her throat bobbed, and I watched tears well in her eyes. For a second, I thought she wasn’t going to tell me, but then she sagged into my hands like she was too tired to fight anymore.

“I had a relationship with him, and I didn’t realize he was married,” she began, and my stomach started to turn.

I couldn’t stop the way I stiffened with anger; I’d wanted to do more than force him to resign. I’d wanted to force him to dig his own grave, but I knew that was too far. I knew Grace would think that was too far.

“His wife found out and told him he had to fail me or she’d leave him.”

Rage rolled through me. It was a good thing I hadn’t known the details before I’d had Sheetz remove himself from his position.

I thought he’d come on to her like he had to several other female students who’d previously filed complaints, and I thought she’d given him a piece of her mind and that was why he’d failed her from the program.

This was worse.

“I didn’t want to stay anyway,” she went on quickly, her cheeks flushed. “I was so ashamed and…angry. I just wanted to get away from it all. And I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again,” she finished, her voice barely audible. “I swore I’d never get involved with a man who had…power over me.”

The pain of what she suffered…the anger I felt over it…it churned through me, but not nearly as strong as the protectiveness I felt over her heart. It was mine. She was mine. And I’d take care of her for as long as it took for her to see it.

“I won’t hurt you, Grace,” I murmured, letting my forehead rest on hers. “I swear it.”

“I know,” she whimpered, and then I felt her hands on my chest. “It doesn’t change what you are to me.”

“I’m no longer a client, Grace.”

Her sharp inhale pierced the air. “What?”

“The contract with Embers is done. I’m ending it.”

“But your grandmother?—”

“I already called her and told her it was over. I found my match. I found the woman I want to be with,” I told her and then forced her head to lift.

If she wanted me to go, I would go. Even though it was the last thing I wanted. I’d walk away if that was the proof she needed from me. The evidence that I’d always put her first.

“And I’ll do whatever it takes for however long it takes to prove it to you,” I drawled slow and drew back, my fingers loosening where they held her face.

“Killian…”

“I’ll do whatever you want, Grace. Anything.” My jaw pulsed. “Even if what you want is for me to leave.”

Her eyes fluttered and met mine, and then I felt it—her fingers curl into my jacket, not to push me away, but to pull me closer.

“Stay,” she said softly and then lifted up on her toes, pressing her mouth to mine.

I let out a groan. There was no going back. Not a fucking chance.

For a beat, I let her kiss me. I let her test the waters. Tease my lips. Coax them open with her tongue. I let her tempered torture last just long enough for her to make sure this was what she wanted.

And then when her tongue pressed into my mouth and tangled with mine, the tension that had been building between us for weeks snapped. I took control of the kiss, sliding my fingers back through her hair and angling her head to deepen my access.

Her soft moan was all the encouragement I needed to kiss her until she couldn’t stand straight. Until I had to take the wine bottle and set it on the floor and then back her up against the wall.

“Killian,” she whimpered when I took her mouth again. “I can’t stand.”

“Good.” I chuckled low, locking my lips over the racing pulse on her neck and licking a path all the way to the shell of her ear. “By the time I’m through with you, you won’t be able to stand…or sit…for a week.”

Her gasp on my tongue was sweet—sweeter than anything I’d ever tasted before. And I wanted to taste more.

My hands found the silk of her dress, gathering it in my fingers until it was rucked up around her waist. I wanted to give her everything—more than everything—to prove she had nothing to fear.

I dropped to my knees in front of her, relishing the catch of her breath and the way she reached for my shoulders.

“Killian…”

I lifted my eyes to hers as I hooked my fingers in the front of her thong, stripping it from her as I said, “You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this—taste you—in my office.

” She shuddered as I lifted her one leg and curved it over my shoulder, my mouth watering with the scent of her. “On my desk. My couch. My chair.”

My fingers found her wet pussy, and I let out a groan of pain as my cock throbbed, feeling how hot and drenched she was.

“Please,” she whimpered, her hips shaking.

“You have no idea how many times I imagined making you come in front of my windows,” I growled and set my mouth on her.

“Oh god.”

I heard her head hit the wall as my tongue toyed with her clit, licking and sucking as I pushed two fingers inside her. I loved hearing nothing but incoherent pleasure coming from that smart mouth of hers and knowing it was because of me. Because she trusted me.

“Not God,” I muttered as she started to shake, her back bowing off the wall.

“Killian.” She moaned my name as my fingers found her G-spot.

“Good girl.” My praise made her pussy tighten, and another rush of desire greeted my greedy tongue. “You taste so fucking good. Feel so fucking good.”

I praised her and finger-fucked her harder. Faster. And I didn’t let up until she was panting and clawing at the back of my head for release.

“Please, Killian. Please.”

My lips closed over her clit and sucked hard, my tongue flicking the swollen bud at the same time, and she fractured.

Unraveled completely. And the way she screamed my name was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

Meanwhile, her body pulsed around my fingers and drenched my tongue with her sweet release.

“Where’s your bedroom?” I growled, still licking up the spoils of her sweet pussy.

Her arm sagged as she attempted to point down the hall. With one swift motion, I straightened and picked her up, her legs wrapping around my waist, and carried her to her room.

I loved the way she clung to me—trusting me completely. I was going to show her it was worth it; that I was safe.

When we made it to her room—her bed. As soon as I had her on the mattress, I grabbed the front of her dress and tore the fragile fabric in two down her front. I groaned as her gasp mingled with the tearing surrender of the fabric.

“I’ll buy you another one,” I preempted, mentally promising to rip that one in two, too, as I dropped my head back between her legs.

She grabbed my hair and tried to pull me up. “Killian…”

I grinned at her and licked my lips. “I told you what my preferences were, Grace.” Her jaw went slack as I then demanded, “Tell me what they were.”

When she hesitated, I gently flicked the tip of my finger over her clit, watching the light touch send fireworks rippling over her skin.

“Tell me.”

“To give pleasure,” she murmured huskily.

“Good girl.” For her answer, I flattened my tongue along her and licked from her entrance to her clit.

“And why do I like giving pleasure?” I pressed, blowing a soft stream of air over her.

She trembled and moaned. “Because you’re a…”

“A what, Grace?” I blew on her clit again.

“A pleasure dom.”

“That’s right.” I groaned low. “Now let me get off on making this sweet little cunt come again.”

I didn’t wait for her reply. I couldn’t. I was too fucking hungry for another taste of her. This time, it was my fingers that had the pleasure of pulling a second orgasm from her G-spot, and as she bowed off the bed, I set my mouth to her clit and stacked a third release directly on top of it.

I could’ve spent hours there on her bed making her come until her limbs and lungs were jelly, but after the fifth orgasm made her squirt all over my palm, I couldn’t wait any more.

My cock strained and wept inside my pants, begging to be free.

Taking one last lick of her honey, I reached for my waist, practically tearing the zipper open to free my length.

I couldn’t stop the deep groan that tore from my chest when I watched her eyes widen as I pulled my cock out. Or the way my tip dripped cum as I stroked myself hard for her to watch.

Her thighs tipped open, and now it was my turn to suffocate.

“God, I want to fucking fill you up,” I rasped, sliding my free hand along her leg. “Stuff you so fucking full?—”

“I’m on the pill,” she whimpered, and my heart stopped.

To fuck her bare.

Something wild broke open inside me—something I hadn’t known existed until this moment. That thought. And the next thing I knew, I was over her, my hands wrenching her legs wide and the fat tip of my cock wedging into her tight pussy.

Fuck. I couldn’t stop staring as I pushed inside her. She looked so damn small. So pink and puffy and glistening, but too damn small for the amount of cock I was asking her to take.

But I couldn’t stop, and her moans sounded like she didn’t want me to.

A feral growl tore from my chest as I bucked and buried myself inside her. Bare. Fucking bare.

“Please, Killian. Please…”

I grabbed her waist and drove into her so hard the bed started to bounce. And then rock. And then crack. But she was so hot and tight…and all mine. She grabbed my shoulders, her hips lifting to meet mine like she wanted nothing more than for me to split her in two.

And after a few deep, punishing thrusts into her already sensitive and hungry pussy, she did.

“Killian!” Grace screamed as she came undone for one final, beautiful orgasm.

And this time, to feel her shatter around my aching length was more than I could take.

My head tipped back, and I picked up the pace, my hips slapping into hers until the pressure at the base of my spine exploded. I buried myself to the hilt inside her pussy and came with a loud roar, filling her until I swore I’d pumped my very fucking soul into her body.

Once the world started to settle and an unsteady equilibrium returned, I tipped over her, both of us panting. “Grace.”

She let out a soft sound.

“I’ve got you,” I promised and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Do you?” she asked even as her eyes fluttered shut.

My teeth locked, and I brushed the hair back from her face and murmured, “Always.”

I was done for. Taken. Claimed. In love. And nothing—not my obligations, not my past, not even my grandmother’s damn dating scheme—was going to stand in my way.