Dear Heart, You Screwed Me

We sat at the lavish dining room table, the cream tablecloth hanging over the edges and finished off with a red trim. Pretty, understated. My mouth watered at the delicious food that was in front of us. Turkey, mash, baked sweet potatoes, green bean casserole and bread rolls. It would have been perfect if my candied yams were still in the picture, but they weren’t. They were now in the bin after being smashed all over Killian’s floor.

Connie was chatting away, but I wasn’t listening. I was too busy watching Killian who was sitting next to me, chatting to Frank. The way his dark eyes were roaming over me, seductive and sultry. The way his cheeks hollow slightly under his high cheek bones before his jaw scoops into the perfect rounded point. His jaw is sharp and defined, dusted in a dark stubble that I loved. I loved feeling the friction of the roughness on my smooth, soft skin.

“Reese,” Connie threw a roll at me, “did you hear me?”

I tore my eyes from Killian, nodding, “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered back.

“Perfect, I’ll set the blind date up,” Connie squealed, clapping her hands. My eyes widened, my pulse racing under my skin. I’m sure you could see it throbbing.

“Cool.” I rushed out, reaching for my wine and gulping it down. I didn’t dare look at Killian.

“Frank, would you like to give thanks?” he asked coolly as he took his own mouthful of wine. Too coolly.

Frank nodded, clearly delighted being asked to do so.

The smile on my face from listening to Frank say his piece soon slipped as I felt Killian’s hand grip onto my thigh tightly, dancing his fingers over the material of my jeans.

I tried to steady my breathing, my breath trembling as it passed my lips. Connie was digging into the food, piling it onto her plate.

“Sort yourself out some food, please,” Killian said low, his fingers still working their way to the apex of my thighs.

My breath caught, his fingers trailing along the seam that was sitting right where he wanted to get to.

Leaning across, I grabbed the spoon and started filling my plate.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

The burn in my belly was distracting, the sweat beginning to bead on my forehead presenting itself for the table to see. I exhaled deeply as his hand left my body to plate his own food up.

Taking a small mouthful of turkey, my eyes moved to Connie who was deep in conversation with Frank. My heart warmed, it made me realise how much I missed my parents. I rubbed the ache in my chest, I’ll call them as soon as we’re finished.

“How’s work going Connie?” Killian asked as his hand found it’s place back on my thigh, slowly trailing back to where it was.

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes hard, “it’s going okay, I can’t moan.” She shrugged, shovelling a mouthful of mac ‘n’ cheese into her mouth.

“When are you going to come and work for me?” he asked, his words slow as his finger ran up and down my core, the seam of my jeans hitting me in the right spot every time.

I tried to disguise my shaky breath.

“When hell freezes over,” she jabs at her dad with her fork before throwing him a wink.

“Oh, come on Princess, it’s not that bad… just ask Reese here,” his head turns slightly, his eyes falling to me as his fingers continue to stroke me in slow, teasing strokes.

“Not bad at all,” I say on a whisper, my grip tightening round the fork.

“Apart from Adele right?” Connie snickers.

“Yeah… apart from her,” I roll my eyes back, but was it in pleasure or from the frustration of her name? “The raging bitch.”

His fingers move in small, slow circular movements now, my orgasm at tipping point.

Connie really giggled now as she forked more food into her mouth.

“She’s not that bad,” he leaned in, speaking low in my ear, his finger pressing harder now and causing my clit to throb. I couldn’t hold off. The tingles swarmed me, a shiver dancing over my skin like a cool breeze as I came, my head falling forward. As soon as he got what he wanted, he pulled his fingers away before bringing them to his lips and running them across his bottom one.

The sadistic fuck.

“Pumpkin Pie?” he asked, throwing his napkin on the table and pushing back off his chair.