chapter 6

A back hallway leads to restrooms and an alley exit, cut off from the bustle of the bar by a sharp right-hand turn that takes the corridor behind the kitchen. My high heels tap loudly on the shiny concrete floors, under a song heavy with bass as it pipes from the stereo anchored near the ceiling.

I don’t even make it halfway down the hall before I feel his heat behind me. The delectable scent of him surrounds me in the split second before a strong arm catches me around the waist and yanks me back.

For a moment, I’m airborne. Kian whips me off my feet like I weigh nothing, and despite my height, maybe I don’t weigh anything to a man his size.

He yanks me against his hard body, one hand curling around my hip while the other fists in my hair. There’s a wild look in his eye that borders the line between lust and hunger. The way he dominates me, towering over me all brawn and heat and that intoxicating whiskey smoke…

Fuck, I’m lost.

Heat pools between my legs. I rock my hips against his and gasp as I feel the hard length of him pressing against me through his jeans.

Then our lips crash together.

The sparks that have been dancing between us since the moment he walked into the bar explode into an inferno of fireworks.

He tastes even better than he fucking smells, and I don’t know if it’s the lingering burn of the alcohol on his lips or just him, but I feel like I’m already addicted from just one taste. His mouth is firm and warm against mine, and he slides his tongue across the seam of my lips as if demanding access to what’s already his.

I open for him, and the second I do, our tongues meet in a fierce clash. Our teeth knock together, almost like we’re half biting, half kissing in our desperation for more of each other.

When his teeth clamp down on my lower lip, I moan hoarsely, and he growls in response. As he lifts me in his arms again, I wrap my legs around his waist without a second thought.

I’m barely aware of where we are anymore, but somehow, Kian manages to find the door that leads to the alley behind the bar. He shoves it open, making the cool night air hit my feverish skin like a blast of ice. My nipples draw up even tighter than they were, and I wrap my arms around his neck, plastering my body to his as I soak up the warmth that radiates from his broad frame.

I didn’t bother with panties tonight—they didn’t seem necessary, given what my goal was—and I can feel the hard ridges of Kian’s stomach pressed against my core. Only his shirt separates his skin from mine, and I grind against him, probably leaving a wet spot on the fabric.

With another low growl, he shoves my back against the wall of the ally, pinning me there as his hands roam my body. I unwind my legs from around his waist, and the second my feet find the ground, his large hand lands on my thigh, working its way upward with a deliberate motion. He reaches the apex of my thighs and just cups me there for a moment, his calloused hand covering my entire pussy in a gesture so dominant and possessive that it makes a needy whimper fall from my mouth.

The heat of his palm is searing, and when he draws back a little, the rings of gold around his irises almost makes it look like they’re glowing.

“You came here tonight knowing just what you wanted, didn’t you?” he murmurs, his voice heavy and thick.

“Yes.”

“Did you find it?”

“You tell me,” I shoot back huskily, pushing my hips away from the wall a little to press against him.

The heel of his hand brushes my clit, and I chase the feeling, arching my back even more. Kian grunts, slipping two thick fingers inside me as he works his hand over my clit, giving me exactly what I need—what I’ve been begging for without words.

His lips find mine again, and he kisses me like he owns me as his massive body pins mine against the wall. His fingers are moving in and out of me faster and faster, relentless and forceful. I’m so fucking wet that there’s a soft squelching noise every time he slams his fingers back inside me, but I don’t give a fuck. My gasps and moans are so loud that they nearly drown it out anyway.

I’m close, and I know he can feel it. My toes are curling, my leg muscles tensing as I try to brace for the rush of pleasure building inside me.

“Fuck. I can feel you clenching around me. You trying to milk my fingers, baby? You wish it was my cock?”

His words are low and rough, and I groan out some response that might be a “yes.” I honestly can’t tell anymore. I don’t think I could form a coherent sentence right now to save my life.

Kian’s free hand slides up my body, squeezing my breast before trailing up my neck. He grabs a fistful of my dark hair and wraps it around his hand, jerking my head back at the same moment he drives his fingers even deeper inside me.

My mouth drops open, my gaze locking with his as pleasure rips through me like a bolt of lightning. He keeps a tight grip on my hair, tugging at the strands and not letting me look away as the orgasm floods my body. He slows the tempo of his fingers just a little, somehow managing to prolong the crest of pleasure until my knees are

shaking from it.

I still haven’t closed my mouth, and even though my jaw is hanging wide open, I can’t seem to get enough oxygen. All I can do is stare up at him and gasp as aftershocks of pleasure ripple through me.

Kian takes advantage of my slack-jawed state, dropping his head again to kiss me. He sucks on my tongue before exploring my mouth with his own tongue, and when we finally break apart, he drags his fingers out of my pussy. Slick arousal coats my thighs, and his fingers and knuckles are shiny with it as he lifts his hand, breathing hard.

He’s still got a tight grip on my hair, so when he tugs my head forward a little and holds his fingers in front of my lips, it’s no secret what he wants.

And I give it to him.

Or maybe I just take exactly what I want.

Opening my mouth, I wrap my lips around his two fingers, sliding up and down on them a little as I lick up my cream. I hollow my cheeks as I do, dragging my tongue over every inch of skin I can reach, and the reaction from Kian is immediate.

His nostrils flare, the look on his face shifting from hungry to almost angry, like he’s pissed off that I’m doing this to his fingers and not his cock.

Well.

There’s an easy solution for that.

I release him with a wet slurp, then shove at his chest, pushing him back a step. I think my action catches him by surprise, which is probably the only reason he actually moves—that, or he’s already figured out what I plan to do.

It’s reckless. Even more reckless than letting my one-night stand finger me in an alley behind a bar. But I’m so far beyond caring about that, I can’t even see it in the rearview mirror. He’s right. I came here knowing exactly what I wanted.

And I don’t plan on wasting a fucking second of tonight.