Page 33 of The Final Contract (The Black Ledger Billionaires #5)

“ K illian Shaw,” I whisper, eyes stinging with tears as a smile breaks over my face, “are you trying to tell me you love me?”

Something shatters in him. Not rage. Not grief. Something deeper, older—something that’s been clawing to get out.

The next second I’m not on the floor anymore. He hauls me up like I weigh nothing, his mouth claiming mine, devouring me as if the words themselves lit him on fire.

We slam into the kitchen table, a chair clattering over, Killian’s leather jacket dragged down with it. Neither of us cares. My hands are fisted in his hair, tugging, pulling, kissing him like I’ll never get enough.

Clothes disappear in frantic motions—his shirt torn over his head, my jeans shoved down, his belt undone with trembling urgency. His hands grip me everywhere, greedy, desperate, shaking with the force of it.

And then his mouth is on me.

I watch, breath caught, as he lowers between my legs and ravages me like a starving man.

His tongue moves fast, ruthless, flicking and circling until my thighs tremble.

The sharp press of his piercing drags against me, sending electric shocks through my body.

His mouth seals over my clit, sucking hard, pulling a cry from my throat.

“Oh—fuck, Killian?—”

My nails scrape across his scalp, clutching him to me as if I could anchor myself against the storm he unleashes. His growl vibrates through me, low and primal—the sound of a man who refuses to stop until I’m wrecked.

The pressure builds fast, brutal, my body clenching tight as I throw my head back, eyes squeezed shut. Pleasure slams through me, my legs twitching helplessly around his head as I come apart on his mouth.

“Killian—oh God?—”

He doesn’t let up. Doesn’t slow. He devours me through it, tongue relentless, sucking until I’m gasping, shaking, tears pricking the corners of my eyes from how hard it hits me.

When I finally collapse back against the table, chest heaving, I look down at him—his mouth slick, his eyes dark and burning into mine—and I know this isn’t just sex.

This is surrender. For both of us.

He rises from between my thighs and crashes his lips to mine like the kiss itself is giving him life. I taste my release on him, feel the desperation in the way his hands clutch at my face, and I can’t hold it in anymore.

I cup his cheeks, forcing him to see me, to hear me. “I love you too, Killian. I’ve fallen in love with you—so fucking hard I don’t ever want to stop falling.”

His breath stutters against my mouth, gray eyes wide, raw.

“I’ve been dragging myself through dinners, looking for a partner, looking for the one I thought I needed…” My voice breaks, and I shake my head, a shaky laugh slipping out. “But he was here the whole time. You. It’s always been you. I just had to stop lying to myself.”

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, low and guttural, and kisses me again, deeper, fiercer, like he’ll never let me breathe without him. “I’ve been desperate to hear you say those words.”

“Bedroom,” I pant against his lips.

His answering growl vibrates through me.

“Now.”

I tug on his shoulders, pulling him with me down the hall, kissing him with every step until he picks me up and carries me the rest of the way. My legs are still trembling, my body still thrumming, but I don’t care. I push him back until he sits on the edge of the bed.

I drop to my knees, sliding my hands up his thighs until I’m at his zipper.

His breath hitches as I free him, his cock springing heavy and hot into my hand.

I look up at him through my lashes, my heart pounding. “I can’t wait another second to taste you, Killian Shaw.”

Then I take him into my mouth.

His head falls back with a groan, his fingers tangling in my hair instantly. I hollow my cheeks, stroking him with my lips, my tongue—every motion deliberate. Not just pleasure. Worship. My way of saying all the things words could never hold.

He curses low, his hips twitching when I tug on his piercing, watching him pant for me. “Christ, angel?—”

I take him deeper, until my throat closes around him, until my eyes water. He looks down, his face wrecked, and I want him to see it all—the tears, the need, the devotion.

I moan around him, one hand gripping his thigh, the other wrapping around the base of his cock, twisting in rhythm with my mouth. His groan rips through the room, primal, undone.

He tugs hard on my hair, his body shuddering as he fights control. “Fuck, Sera—don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

And I don’t. I can’t.

Because this isn’t about getting him off—it’s about answering him the only way I know how. With my lips, my tongue, my whole body bent to him. My confession given in gasps and moans, in devotion and surrender.

And if he ruins me for everything else, so be it. Because I’m his. Completely.

His grip tightens in my hair, his hips rolling shallow thrusts against my lips as if he can’t help himself. His voice is rough, unraveling.

“You love this, don’t you?” he rasps, breath coming harsh. “Being used by me. Taking every inch until your eyes water. Fuck—Sera?—”

I swallow him down, greedy for it, greedy for him. His thighs tense under my palms, his body shuddering.

“Gonna come down your throat,” he growls, broken and feral. “And you’re gonna drink every drop, angel.”

The warning is barely out before he jerks, groaning deep, guttural, as hot pulses of release hit the back of my throat. I don’t let a single drop escape, swallowing him, sucking until he twitches against my tongue and every last moan of ecstasy is wrung from him.

When I finally pull back, licking him clean, his chest is heaving, his gray eyes wild as they pin me in place.

“Greedy little killer,” he murmurs, voice wrecked.

Before I can answer, he’s hauling me up, his mouth crashing into mine, the taste of him still on my tongue. He spins, tossing me back onto the bed. His knife tumbles onto the mattress beside me, gleaming under the lamplight as he strips the rest of his clothes away.

His cock is still hard, still pulsing, ready for more.

Honestly, the stamina on this man should be studied as a scientific marvel.

I lean back on the bed, bare and open, my knees bent and spread wide. Every inch of me is his to see, his to touch, to claim. I coax him with a hungry smile, my voice husky. “Come here, big man. I need you.”

That’s all it takes. His control frays, feral energy pouring off him as his gaze drops to the knife glinting on the mattress. His grin turns wicked.

He picks it up, twirling it once like it weighs nothing, like it belongs in his hand as much as I do.

“You’re lying there naked for me, angel,” he rasps, crawling up the bed until he looms over me. “Spread open like a fucking feast. And all I can think about is how you’ll look with my knife against your skin while I take you.”

My pulse hammers. Excitement crashes into a tremor of fear, winding me so tight I could snap.

He brings the tip of the blade to my throat, dragging it slow, deliberate, down the column of my neck. My breath shudders out.

“You scared?” he asks, filthy and taunting, his gray eyes locked on mine.

“Yes.” My voice is barely a whisper.

“Wet?”

“Yes.”

His smirk deepens, feral now. “That’s my girl.”

The blade glides lower, between my breasts, circling one nipple before flicking across it with the flat of the steel. My back arches off the bed, a moan breaking free.

“You trust me?” he asks, pressing the cool blade flat against my sternum.

“Yes,” I breathe, every nerve ending on fire. “Always.”

His eyes darken further, his grin sharp as sin. “Good. Because I’m gonna make you come with this knife against your skin. You’ll scream for me while you feel how close I could cut you—and how much you fucking love it.”

The edge grazes down my stomach, stopping just above my mound, and my hips lift, begging.

“Say it,” he growls, pressing the blade flat against my thigh, close to where I ache for him. “Say you want this.”

“I want it.” My voice cracks, but it’s strong enough. “I want you. All of you. Every way you’ll take me.”

His cock twitches against my thigh, thick and hot. His free hand spreads me open, his eyes blazing as the knife hovers dangerously close.

“Filthy angel,” he murmurs, the sharp tip of the blade brushing my swollen clit before he replaces it with his tongue. “You’re mine to ruin.”

He nips my clit between his teeth, his tongue piercing teasing across it. Not hard, but it’s so fucking sensitive it nearly sends me into space.

My scream fills the room as fear and desire collide, and I know I’ll never want anyone but him.

His mouth is relentless, tongue flicking and sucking at my clit, his piercing dragging over me until my thighs quake.

He shifts, pressing the cool handle to my entrance, sliding it in with a slow push that makes my breath catch. The stretch is sharp, shocking, filthy. My moan breaks into a scream when he adds two thick fingers beside it, fucking me open while his tongue works me ruthlessly.

“Killian—oh God?—”

I buck against him, overwhelmed, his mouth devouring me as the handle thrusts deep, his fingers curling inside. The mix of steel, flesh, and his hot tongue is unbearable—intoxicating.

“Come on, angel,” he growls against me, lips slick, voice rough between licks. “Soak my knife. I want to taste you all over it.”

It shatters me. My body bows off the bed, groans ripping free as I come hard, squirting over his hand, over the handle, over his face. He groans into me, sucking harder, drinking me down as my release drenches everything.

When the spasms finally break, he withdraws the knife, glistening with my cum, and raises it above me.

“Lick it clean,” he orders, voice like gravel.

I grab his wrist, my gaze locked on his, and drag my tongue up the steel. Slowly. Deliberately. Licking my release from the blade like I’m starving for it. His eyes go black, a guttural curse spilling from his lips.

“Good girl,” he rasps, his dick resting hot and heavy on my pussy.

Then he shifts, settling back on his haunches between my spread thighs, his cock poised thick and hard. The knife gleams in his hand, his grin wicked as sin.

“Open,” he orders.

My lips part without hesitation, breathless and trembling, and he slides the handle of the knife between my teeth. The taste of steel fills my mouth, the weight of it heavy on my tongue.

“Bite down, angel.”

The command rumbles through me a second before his hands seize my hips and he drags me onto his massive cock in one brutal thrust.

I scream around the handle, the sound muffled, my body arching as he buries himself deep, hard, unrelenting.

He fucks me ruthlessly, pulling me down over and over, the knife handle locked between my teeth, every moan forced out of me jagged and raw.

Then he plucks it free, his eyes wild as he flips the blade, the tip gliding along my throat, slow and deliberate.

“God, look at you,” he rasps, pressing deeper into me. “Spread wide, stuffed full of my cock, trembling under my knife… you’re everything I ever wanted to worship.”

The blade grazes my throat, shallow, just enough to sting. His mouth is there instantly, sucking, soothing, claiming. He drags the tip lower, tracing the swell of my breast, cutting another shallow line near my nipple. His tongue follows, licking the bead of blood before pulling it into his mouth.

My groans are half pain, half pleasure—and all surrender.

He grips my ankles, spreads me wide, thrusting into me with brutal force. The blade is pressed into my palm now, his command low and raw. “Get yourself off, angel. Show me how much you love it.”

I press the handle to my clit, circling frantically as he pounds into me. The pressure builds fast—violent, unbearable.

“Come with me,” he growls, voice shredded. “Soak me again. Mark me as yours.”

The climax rips me apart—violent, wet—flooding him as my body convulses. I scream his name, soaking his cock, the sheets—ruined by him, for him.

He roars my name as he comes with me, pulsing deep, holding me wide open as we fall apart together.

“Fuck, Seraphina, fuck.”

His forehead drops to mine, his chest heaving against me, both of us shaking, slick with sweat and each other. For a moment it’s just the sound of us trying to breathe.

Then his voice, raw and broken open: “I love you, angel. Christ, I love you.”

Tears sting my eyes, but my smile breaks anyway—wide and unguarded. I cup his face, forcing him to see me. “I love you too, Killian. More than I ever thought I could.”

The weight of it hangs between us—not fragile but solid, undeniable. His lips crush mine in a kiss that tastes like salt and heat and truth, sealing what we both already knew.

And for the first time, it feels like we’ve stopped running—from each other, from ourselves.