The growl that rumbled from his chest was pure ecstasy to my body as heat pooled in my core. His hands surged to pull me flush against him once more, his mouth crashing down on mine in a kiss that was nothing short of desperate devotion.
It was breathless and consuming. For once, there was no war outside these walls to worry about.
There was only him. Only us.
5
KIERAN
Every sweepof his fingers along my waist sent goosebumps racing over my skin and a shiver of pleasure straight up my spine.
The soft cotton of his clothing was a fucking insult. Too solid and too much between us. Every movement, every press of his body against mine, was charged with hunger—months of denial pouring into a single, consuming touch.
A fever bloomed beneath my skin, spreading until every inch of me answered him. My heartbeat fell into rhythm with his, pounding against his chest with each breath he took.
When he finally drew back, just enough that our ragged breaths tangled between us, I saw the tremor running through his frame and the wild pulse beating at his throat.
“I thought I’d lost this forever,” he said, his voice roughened and unsteady. The deeper tone sent a shiver through me. I pressed closer, my palm flattening over the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath his shirt. His breath hitched once before he added, “I thought I’d lostyou, Kieran.”
“You didn’t,” I whispered, my voice barely a sound. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The sound that came from him was low, feral—half-growl, half-exhale—as he guided me backward. His hands traced down my spine, deliberate and heavy, until my back met the cool wall.
For a heartbeat, his hands framed my face, eyes searching mine. Then his touch shifted down my throat, across my collarbone, along the curve of my breasts, and flattened at my waist. Every motion was slow but claiming, like he was relearning me inch by inch. The weight of his hands turned possessive, grounding. I could feel the restraint vibrating through him.
His mouth followed down my jaw, to the hollow of my throat. His lips brushed the place where a scar should have been, and that simple touch sparked through me like lightning. My knees buckled, but his grip tightened, steadying me as his mouth drifted lower.
He was so broad, his body a solid wall of heat pressed to mine, and the sight of him—focused, intent—made my breath catch.
When his mouth closed around my nipple, the contrast of warmth and pressure stole a cry from my lips. His other hand came up to cup my breast, thumb circling with slow, deliberate precision until a sound I didn’t recognize broke free from my throat.
Every motion carried purpose, but beneath the hunger was something quieter.Worship. The air thickened, heavy and hot, his want bleeding into reverence.
He was savoring every breath, tremor, and unspoken plea that hung between us.
Then he sank to his knees, and for a second, the shift in power almost made me sway. Gabe kneeling was its own kind of worship, but there was nothing submissive about it. This was devotion, sharp and consuming—his control and my surrender bound together.
His palms slid up my thighs, heat and strength in every inch his hands traveled. A low growl rumbled from his chest as his gaze dragged over me, dark and possessive. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Kieran.”
His expression softened, but his frantic hands didn’t stop. They kept moving like he was mapping me, memorizing me, claiming what he already knew was his.
He leaned forward until his forehead rested against my stomach, voice rough and shredded. “I thought about this every night after the first time. The shape of you. The sound you make when you moan my name.”
The words hit harder than any kiss. My fingers slid into his hair, gripping tightly as a shiver ran through him. “Gabe, I?—”
The rest caught halfway out of my throat as Gabe’s mouth met my center. The groan that escaped him was guttural. Heat rushed through me with the knowledge that he could taste how wet I was for him, could feel how much I craved him.
His tongue plunged into me, hot and relentless. My hands tightened in his hair as he alternated between circling my clit and fucking me with his mouth. Every motion was deliberate and wild, like he was barely holding himself back from devouring me whole. He worshiped me with that same obsessive focus, every flick of his tongue dragging me closer until my knees trembled, the world narrowing to the sound of his breath and the pulse between my thighs.
When my body finally broke and his lips closed around that fragile point of pleasure, it was too much. I came with a cry that left my head spinning, his name heavy on my lips. When he pulled back, my fingers softened in his hair. His eyes were wild and half-lidded, his lips slick with my desire.
The sight alone had my heart rate spiking.
Before I could speak, he rose and carried me toward the bed, softly depositing me there. My body sank into the soft sheets ashe braced himself above me—knees pressed into the mattress, one hand beside my head, the other reaching for his shirt. The way he stripped it off distracted me, the display of muscle across his stomach making my breath hitch. I reached for him before I could think, desperate for the feel of his skin beneath my palms.
I ached to taste him. To give him everything he’d just given me.
“It’s only fair I taste you too,” I murmured, voice low but trembling with hunger.
