“God, your talent is intimidating. If I wasn’t already used to playing with you, I don’t know if I’d dare.”
“Shh.” He presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “You’re my muse, remember.”
“Okay.” I steel myself with a deep breath, then place my fingers on the keys and begin.
Killian lets me play alone for a while, only adding small ornaments here and there. When he joins me in the second part, his embellishments are even more beautiful than the first time. Our music comes together in perfect harmony, lifting us from the ground, making us soar.
It’s even more intense this time—even closer. There are no boundaries or restrained emotions between us, and the honesty with which we both play steals my breath away.
When we end the piece, the room is completely silent. It’s just our shared breaths and our beating hearts. I close my eyes, letting the energy keep me suspended for another moment. Killian leans his head on my shoulder, humming softly, holding me tight.
Finally, Ian breaks the silence. “Can you play that while sitting beside her?” he asks Killian.
“Of course,” Killian answers with a confidence that would sound arrogant if I didn’t know it was the truth.
“As much as I would love to carry Jenna onto the stage, rooted to the bench and having you sit behind her, it’s not really an option. But I want you to retain that intimacy. It’swhat elevates your music to greatness—both of you.” Expression stern, Ian looks back and forth between us, making sure we both understand the message.
I draw a sharp breath and nod, and I feel Killian do the same. Our hearts beat a little faster, Ian’s compliment a deeply moving warmth inside both of us.
After taking a moment to let it all sink in, Ian focuses on me. “I’m leaving you alone with Killian for the rest of the night. You’re safe. He’s not going to harm you. He’s in control now. If you need me, I’m right here, just down the stairs. Okay?”
I don’t even feel worried. I’m so deep in a haze, so entranced by the safety Killian has lulled me into that I can barely even remember why I should be worried. So I just nod.
“Good girl.” Ian leans in and rewards me with a soft kiss on the lips. “Good night, sweetheart.”
When he leaves, I feel a pang in my chest. I’ve slept with him every night for six months. I think Killian must sense it, because he says, “You’re free to go downstairs anytime you need. If you don’t feel comfortable staying the whole night with me, it’s okay. I understand. But if you want me to, I’ll spend the whole night holding you tight.”
“I do,” I say, feeling like all my dreams are finally coming true. They’ll be difficult to navigate—finding a balance between the two men—but I have a feeling they will help me get there. I try to turn, wanting to burrow my head in Killian’s shoulder and breathe him in, but the phallus, which I had somehow almost forgotten, pins me in place. I groan at the movement—the sudden flare of desire.
“Killian, I need to… I need to come.”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’m not going to leave you hanging like this.” Hooking his legs around mine—this time keeping his feet firm on the ground—he spreads me wide open. “It’s a good thing this bench has no padding,” he says whenhe slips a finger through my pussy lips. “It would be soaked through.”
I groan with humiliation even as I try to push my hips into him. The phallus blocks my movement, sending a surge of desire through me.
Sensing my building need, Killian pushes into me with a grunt.
“Oh God,” I moan at the feeling of his hard length against my back.
“Oh Killian,” he corrects, the same as before. “I’m your only God now.”
“Killian,” I moan as he starts stroking my clit with maddening softness.
“That’s right. I’m the one who holds the power over you. Your music, your desire, and your orgasms. You’re mine.”
“Yours,” I pant.
“Mine.” He starts moving his hips against me, pressing his hard length into me while jostling me against the phallus.
My moans grow longer and louder as the desire expands and contracts, driving me mad, driving me close. “Please,” I beg, feeling like I’ll truly go insane if he draws out any more.
“Master,” he whispers.
“What?”
“Say please, Master.”
I barely even hesitate. The words just slip out, a bit strange, but also so very right. “Please, Master, make me come.”