Keep Me (Sinful Manor, #1)

by Sara Cate

“You’re all bark and no bite, my wee wife.” “Oh, I’ll bite,” I reply with fuming anger.

“We could do this all winter. Fuck like animals all day long. With nothing better to do. You can still hate me. Call me a brute and an arsehole, and I’ll call you a cow and selfish bitch. But with lots and lots of orgasms.”

“I can still taste your cunt on my lips, Sylvie. I can’t stop thinking about it.” His filthy words set me on fire. Any hope of turning back now is lost. My back arches, and my head tilts backward. “Killian.” I moan his name like a plea.

“Tell me to stop,” he mutters with his lips near my throat. “Don’t stop,” I reply.

“Let me see it again, darling. You come so pretty.”

“Yes,” I lie. I wish I still hated him, but I have to be honest with myself now. I can’t find a single reason to keep hating him.

“Well, unless you agree to go to that party, nothing is happening.” “You vindictive bitch!”

“Yes, I am, Killian. You’re not my family or my friends. You’re not my husband, and you know it. So can we just stop pretending for one second?”

“Are we pretending, Sylvie?”

“Of course we are. None of th...

“Fine, Sylvie. I’ll stop pretending.”

“You were pretending…weren’t you?” I ask carefully.

“Of course I was. You mean nothing to me, remember?”

“I don’t believe you,” I reply.

“And I mean nothing to you, right? That’s why you bought me those gloves.”

“You’re the most insufferable asshole—”

Taking my wrists in his hands, he holds them behind my back. No matter how much I struggle to get out of his hold, I can’t.

Because I love the feel of his body against mine. I love the way he quiets my anxious mind. And I hate how much I love it.

“I don’t know what’s going through your head, but you’re out of your mind if you think all of this has been pretending. Even when we’re alone. You are my wife, Sylvie. At the end of this year, you can try to leave, and if you piss me off enough, I might let you go. But I have a...

“I could fuck you right here, and you’d let me. Wouldn’t you, darling?”

“You can’t just fuck me into submission every time we fight.” I mumble in response.

“Can’...

“No. I just think she’s a bitch, and clearly, being a bitch to you is my job.”

“Wrap your lips around my cock, darling. I need to feel that mouth of yours.”

“Fuck me, mo ghràidh. That mouth of yours feels so good.”

“I see the way you look at him. I don’t even want to know what filthy things you did to him upstairs. And I’m telling you now, harboring feelings for my nephew won’t change a thing. You can’t stop us from getting that house, and if you even think about getting in our way, you’ll be going back to America worse off than when you came here.”

“You are nothing but an old hag, and you don’t care about Killian at all. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave him alone. Don’t look at him. Don’t talk to him. And if you even think about coming to Barclay Manor, just know you’ll leave worse than when you came.”

“Sylvie.” Killian’s voice is a harsh bark.

“Come on, darling. Let’s go home.”

Gazing up into his eyes, I feel something I never felt with him before. It’s a feeling without words, or if it has words, I don’t have the capacity to conjure them at this moment. It feels like mine and home. Safety. Comfort.

I kiss him differently this time. Not like I need something physical, but like I need something emotional. When our lips touch, it’s like I’m pulling him inside me. Inside my mind and my heart.

“Forget the blow job; seeing you give that old biddy a piece of your mind was the hottest thing you’ve done all night.”

Killian puts his mouth next to my ear, and when he whispers,

“I need to be inside you, Sylvie. I need to make you my wife.”

The kiss is all the answer he needs. Yes. Yes. Yes.

I know the wife bit is a role-playing thing, but also…being treated like his wife makes my body grow hot with arousal. I love the thought of being his.

“I’m gonna tie you to my bed and have my way with you now,” he says, and somehow I grow even warmer with need. “I’m all yours,” I whisper,

“Killian,” I cry out in a breathy plea. “I need you.”

“I’m here, mo ghràidh.”

“My wife comes first,” he growls between my legs. Then he wraps his lips around my clit and sucks, using his tongue to flick the sensitive bud. And that’s it. I’m done.

“I won’t hurt you, darling. You can trust me.”

“I don’t know what you were so worried about,” he says in a strained tone. “You’re taking every inch, mo ghràidh. And you’re taking me so well.”

Is this still just casual sex to him? Or is he being swarmed by this feeling of something more the same way I am?

“I’m going to fill you up. My wife. I’m making you mine.”

“F-fill me up, Killian. Make…me yours.” “You are mine.”

This is so much more than sex. He has to see that.

“Well, it’s official, darling,” he says softly. “You’re really my wife now.”

“I love the trust that it requires,” he adds, looking into my eyes. “I love feeling so connected to someone that they give me full control over their body.”

“Is that something you want with me?” I add.

“Oh, absolutely, mo ghràidh.” “Well then,” I smirk. “Maybe someday.”