My options to Cillian are to leave or to come in and tell me where he was. He chooses to do neither.
Instead, he moves so fast, I don't even have time to register what he's doing. His hands come and grip my head. His mouth comes down on me brutally, pushing my lips apart while he starts walking me backward into my apartment.
I'm vaguely aware he kicks out with a booted foot to slam my door shut. He continues walking me backward until I'm flush up against my living room wall.
The halt in my backward progress doesn't stop him. He merely reaches down with one hand, wraps it under my ass, and hauls me up so that my core is pressed up against his hardness. He does this without even breaking the kiss, thoroughly intent on exploring every inch of my mouth with his tongue.
When my legs just dangle there, he rips his mouth away from mine and growls in frustration, clearly wanting me to wrap myself around him. But he doesn't wait to give me the opportunity to make the choice on my own. Instead, he pins my body to the wall with his h*ps and says in a voice rich with dark lust, "Put your f**king legs around me, Renner, or I'll do it for you."
It's hard for me to describe what Cillian's words do to me. They touch something that lives in a dark place, deep inside of me. They awaken something in my body that I didn't know was sleeping. With absolute certainty that my brain and common sense have been completely overtaken by this man's sinful charm, whatever that thing is inside of me bursts forth in response to his demand and my legs wrap around his waist and squeeze him tight.
All he says is, "Good girl," before resuming his kiss and I am powerless to stop the fact that I'm sucked under a giant wave of lust and yearning that he's induced inside of me. His kiss is hard and unyielding. I try to participate but he's in complete control and I can do nothing but submit, so I just wrap my arms around his neck and hang on.
Cillian's hands grip my ass, kneading my flesh while he grinds himself into me, hitting me at that spot that is sure to have me screaming in a few moments. My breath starts hitching over the sensation and pleasure ricochets through my body.
I'm on the verge... ready to slip over the edge and completely yield to Cillian. It's almost on the edge of my tongue to beg him for something more, when he pulls his mouth away from me again. His breathing is ragged and he flexes his h*ps into me one more time, causing my body to shudder and my legs to squeeze him tighter.
He's looking at me with a mixture of desire and... anger?
Yes, that's anger in his eyes I see, and I can see it warring to take over the sexual heat that's still bubbling. I become still and on edge, my grip in his hair loosening.
Cillian then lowers me to the floor but he doesn't move his body away. His hand snakes into the back of my hair and grips it tightly, pulling my head back just a bit. It's another display of dominance, to show that my body will bend to his.
Oddly, I don't even think to fight against it.
"My band mate...Maeve... tried to kill herself two days ago. That night we kissed. That's where I've been... taking care of her."
I gasp. "My God. I'm so sorry. Why didn't you just tell me that? Why the display of male testosterone just now?"
He releases my hair and tenderly strokes his fingertips across my cheek. I have to fight not to close my eyes against the softness of his actions, even though his eyes have gone cold. His voice is deliberate when he says, "I didn't tell you because I don't take orders. And that display? That was so you never forget that your body responds to me, no matter what demands come out of that f**kable mouth of yours."
Ouch, those words hurt, even though I probably understand that he's being driven by stress over Maeve's suicide attempt. He has to be in a world of pain right now.
"Then why tell me about it at all? You made your point."
His hand drops from my face. "Because... you deserve to know there was an important reason that kept me away from you. But that's all you get from me, and I'm only giving it because I got what I wanted from you first."
Now I’m the one to get angry. "Is this some sort of game for you? Is that how you get your rocks off? Because if it is, I'm not playing."
"No game, Renner. This is who I am."
I'm beyond frustrated and want to slap him silly right now. "I don't get it. I don't understand what you want from me?"
Some of the ice melts from his eyes. He reaches down and takes my hand, bringing it to his mouth. He turns it around and places a gentle kiss on my palm, and just like that, I'm ready to melt back into him. "You're complete submission to me, Renner. That's all I want. And you just gave it to me."
"No," I insist, anger flaring hotly in me and I have the urge to stomp my foot like a child because he's making me crazy. "I did not give it to you. It doesn't work that way. There has to be something reciprocal."
His hands come up quickly, gripping my shoulders. He leans in, gives me a swift, hard kiss and pulls away just as abruptly. "There is reciprocity, babe. You got something out of it and you know it."
Gah. What did I get out of that exchange? Sexual frustration? Anger? Hurt feelings?
Before I can even think of anything to say, Cillian spins on his heel and walks to the door. "I'll catch you around," he says, and then he's gone.
CHAPTER 8
Cillian
"Dude... you need to get your head out of your ass."
Those words cut into my thoughts, which have been getting progressively darker and pissier as each day passes.