Kilo

 

For one beat, she went still as fuck.

Then she was turning and throwing herself at me.

Her arms around my neck, her leg around my hip, she fucking climbed me.

I grabbed her ass and lifted. But before I sank my tongue into her mouth and drove into that tight cunt, I had to tell her.

Shoving her back against the wall, I fisted her hair and held her head so she couldn’t look away. “It’s worse.”

She sucked in a breath and blinked. “Pardon?”

Fuck. I didn’t want to tell her. I had to. But god-fucking-damn it, I just wanted my redhead right now, and this shit could change that.

I tried to phrase it with words she knew. “You looking to get fucked to forget about those pictures and all the shit that went down, or you looking for something like that dark landscape?”

She frowned. “I am not using you.”

“Didn’t ask that.” She could use my cock all she wanted.

She studied me for a beat. “Have you really never eaten a meal with a woman before me?”

“Eaten, yes.” I’d taken her to dinner. A fucking French place. “Dinner cooked for me, no.”

Her throat moved with a swallow. “Have you ever taken a woman to your house?”

“No.” Fuck no.

“But you’re asking if I want a dark landscape with you?”

“What do you want, woman? Me or my cock?”

“Why can’t it be both?”

I didn’t answer. I fucking stared.

She picked up on half of the program. “So my response is going to change the outcome of this moment?”

“No, it’s going to change what happens after I fuck you.” If I didn’t goddamn blank out.

“Meaning you’ll either leave or you’ll stay.”

“Not staying here.” I had a house. One where the fucking doorways weren’t short as hell and the showerhead wasn’t at chin height. “Answer the question.”

Her grip on me loosened. “Why? It doesn’t seem like it matters what I say.”

It didn’t. “I’m fucking you either way.”

“And aftercare?”

There it was. “Damn, that looks good on you.”

“What does?” she demanded, giving me flipside.

“Jealousy. And we’ll talk after I fill that sweet cunt.” I leaned down to sink my tongue into that hot mouth of hers.

She leaned back. “I’m not jealous, and I want to talk now. I don’t know what you meant by dark landscape other than obvious inferences, but you don’t do that. You never have. You’ve always spoken bluntly and honestly to me. I want that now because you were about to walk out of my kitchen if I hadn’t asked you to stay, and that frightened me. So, I’m asking. What do you want?”

Fuck, my redhead was beautiful. “Everything I shouldn’t.”

“Meaning?”

“You. In my bed. On my cock. Every fucking night.”

She frowned. “And why shouldn’t you want that?” No flipside, no attitude, she asked her question like the woman who’d crawled to me because I’d told her to.

I downloaded. “The TBI is worse.”

The exact fucking expression I was trying to avoid coated her entire face. “Worse?”

“I’m not a bright sunset. I’m a dark fucking landscape. You deserve better.”

“Kavan.” She gently cupped the left side of my face. “What really happened?”

She’d already sunk into my headspace was what really fucking happened. But same as she deserved better, she deserved the truth.

I gave her all of it.

“I took out Carlos’s entire compound. Perimeter was large. Volume of explosives larger. Had to cut it close. Blast wave was fucking supersonic. Threw me a few meters. I took another concussive blow. Hard one. Spent the last week vomiting. Headspace is still fucked. Not fucked like it already was. Worse. More blackouts. I don’t know if it’ll reverse or if this’ll be my new normal. You tell me to walk after I fuck you, you say it with conviction, I’ll listen.”

“And if I don’t tell you to walk?” she asked, no hesitation.

“I’ll dominate the fuck out of you until I bring that sweet, submissive flipside to the surface. Then I’ll take you down to base. Make you scream my name. Fuck you until your cunt’s full of my cum, and you’re calling me an animal again. I’ll also nurture the hell out of every submissive breath you give me until you forget you were made for anything other than being mine.”

Her voice dropped. The corner of her mouth twitched. “I’m my own person.”

I fucking stared. “You testing me?”

Shy, reserved, sweet, she smiled. “Yes.”

I metaphorically stood the fuck up. “In my bed, you’re my sub.”

“And outside your bed?”

“You’ll be my submissive artist who paints the fuck out of any goddamn thing you want.”

She kissed me.

My little sub fucking kissed me, and that was all it took for me to lose control.

My cock was driving into her cunt, my tongue was dominating her mouth and I had no reins.

I held her legs, and I fucked her.

I thrust, I ground, I bottomed out.

Then her cunt was constricting, and it happened.

I fucking blanked.

Except this time, my body didn’t follow my headspace.

My hips pounding into her. My cock driving into that tight cunt. Like she was my cure, I kept fucking her.

That pull.

Her. Me. Sex.

I felt it.

Her. Me. Us.

I breathed it.

“Kavan!”

She fucking detonated.

My shit came back, I drove in deep, ground my hips, and I fucking came.

Pulse after pulse, filling that tight cunt, holding her shaking body, my head spun.

Then all of a sudden, I was fucking shaking, and my vision was tunneling.

Training kicked in, and I was moving.

Slamming the water off, holding her on my cock, stepping out of the shower, I carried her down the hall and made it to the bedroom.

Still cupping her ass, praying I didn’t fucking pass out, I hit the bed hard, took her weight, then fucking warned her. “I’m going under.”

My cock still buried deep as she straddled me, two small hands hit my face. “Tell me what to do.”

I fucking fought to focus up. “Nothing.” My eyes closed.

“What’s happening?”

That motherfucking tunnel. “Still concussed. Blood flow. Cock. Not Head. Give me a sec.” Fuck.

Wet hair was pushed off my face.

Soft lips touched mine.

Hot breath hit my right ear. “Did you remember my voice?”

Tight cunt slid on my cock.

Hard nipples rubbed against my chest.

Fuuuuuck.

My cock came to life. I grabbed her hips. Her palms hit my chest. My eyes opened.

My redhead rode me. Slow and smooth.

I watched her tits. I watched her mouth. She arched her back. She ground her hips. But she didn’t come.

She couldn’t.

I stepped the fuck up.

Topping her from the bottom, I lifted her hips. Then I angled my piercing against her G-spot and rocked her as my mouth closed over one of her nipples.

Letting out an uninhibited moan, she fucking came.

Her cunt milking my cock threw me over the edge, and I filled her a second time.

Breathless, wet hair, soaked cunt, slicked skin, she fell to my chest.

I fucking inhaled and held it.

Then I wrapped my arms around her, turned us to our sides, and closed my eyes. “You brought me back.”

“From?” She sifted her fingers through my hair.

It felt good. I didn’t stop her. “LOC.”

“LOC?”

“Loss of consciousness.”

I felt her shift up. “That’s what you meant when you said you were going under? Literally, you were going under?”

“Yeah.”

“Kavan,” she whispered.

Too fucking tired, I didn’t open my eyes. “What?”

“How often has that been happening?”

“All week. Why I didn’t come sooner.”

The hands returned to my face. “Please look at me.”

I opened my eyes. Fuck, she was beautiful. “My redhead.”

“Your…?” Her face softened. “Stop trying to distract me.”

“Never, beautiful.”

“That.” She shook her head. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Avoiding this conversation?” I closed my eyes again. “Guilty.” I needed sleep.

She didn’t say shit, and her hands didn’t leave my face.

Breathing in, I opened my eyes and focused up. “All right. Let’s have it.” I made a mental note. Horizontal fucking, good. Shower fucking, questionable. This motherfucking current concussion couldn’t heal fast enough.

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Talerco came.”

She frowned. “What did he say?”

“The usual.”

She glanced at the left side of my face, and her frown deepened. “I’d like you to see a doctor.”

“Turning the tables on me?”

She blinked. “Pardon?”

I brushed her hair from her temple. “Pretty sure I said something similar to you. I’ll be better in a few weeks. If not, I’ll get seen.” I’d do it for her. “Good?”

Relief coated her expression. “Yes, thank you.”

“Welcome.” Now, I wanted to have a different conversation. “Nomad life. You need that?” Because I’d fucking read the shit November had sent. London, Rome, France, Antigua, Italy, Greece, Spain, the Caribbean—she’d been all over the fucking place in the past five years. Never staying more than a few months in any of them.

“In what way?” she asked carefully, like she was stepping around something.

“For your painting.” For her head, her sanity. Fuck, I didn’t know. I didn’t know enough about her yet, except that she escaped in her art like I escaped under water or in blast waves. There was headspace, then there was fucking headspace. This woman had both. So the fuck did I. We also had that pull. Now I knew why. Her life, mine—not so fucking different.

“For my painting,” she repeated, stalling.

“Answer the question.”

She drew in a breath, then let it out slow. “I don’t know. But it’s always been what I’ve done. Growing up, we constantly moved. Or rather, we never had a home. My mother was always traveling. Usually between New York, Paris, Milan and London. Sometimes we would have a furnished apartment for a while. Mostly we stayed in boutique hotels.”

“Sounds fucked up for a kid.” Not that I was one to talk.

“It was all I knew.”

“Ready for something different?” Starting tomorrow, because I really fucking needed sleep.

“Is the something different with you?”

“Yeah. You, me, my house.”

She blinked. Then bullshit spilled out. “I’m an artist. Art is messy, and your house is clean. And what if we—”

“Halt,” I ordered.

She bit her bottom lip.

Glancing my thumb across her lips, I pulled it loose. “Life is fucking messy. But we fit. I think we just proved that.” Twice. “That pull. It’s not going anywhere.” Not for me. “Tomorrow, I’m taking you home. Tonight, I’m gonna hold you, and we’re both gonna sleep.” It’d been a long fucking week. I just wanted her in my arms.

“Kavan,” she whispered.

I stared at my redhead. Then I gave her real. “I have the controls.”

For two seconds, she didn’t say shit. Then she curled into me. “Okay.”

I fucking exhaled and wrapped my arm around her. “Sleep, beautiful.”

“Content,” she whispered. “Like this. With you.”