“Yes. Oh, yes.”
“Not good enough.” One hand grips my chin, forcing me to look at him as the other reaches down between my legs to stroke my clit. “Beg for it.”
My pride wavers, then shatters under the weight of my need. “Please, Kieran. Please fuck me. I need you inside me.”
He snarls something filthy and eases himself inside. Fingers stroking my clit, he pulls back and then thrusts deep, filling me so completely I cry out.
“Christ, you’re tight. Taking me so good, baby.” His pace is brutal, every stroke hitting deep. “This pussy was made for me.”
“Yes,” I moan, nails digging into his shoulders.
“No one fucks you like I do,” he growls into my ear. “No one makes you feel like this. You’re mine, Juniper. Say it again.”
“I’m yours. All yours.”
“That’s right. You were mine the first time I saw you. And now you’re gonna come all over my cock and make me happy.”
The words wreck me, send me spiraling. I clamp around him, shattering, screaming his name as I come. He follows with a deep, guttural groan.
When he collapses over me, breath hot against my neck, his voice softens. “You undo me, sweetness. You don’t even know what the hell you’ve done to me.”
I hold him close, still shaking. For all his dominance, there’s something vulnerable in the way he presses his forehead to mine.
Tomorrow, we compete against each other and only one of us wins.
But tonight, he’s all mine.
Chapter Six
KIERAN
The festival grounds are already packed when I arrive in the morning. The bright sunshine burns off the mountain mist, and the smell of frying dough from the donut stand makes my empty stomach clench. I didn't eat breakfast; I was too keyed up about what's coming. It was hard to tear myself away from Juniper’s warm, perfect body this morning. All I wanted to do was stay in bed with her, forever if I could.
The baking tent looms ahead, white canvas glowing in the morning light. Inside, three stations are set up for the finals.
“There's our champion.” Viper's voice comes from behind me.
I turn to find him with Hunter and Colt. My stomach drops. Colt's dressed as Clay again, complete with that icy expression that makes people step aside.
“President,” I nod.
“Are you ready for this?” Colt asks.
“Ready as I'll ever be.”
“Good. We'll be watching. Make the club proud.” He claps me on the shoulder, harder than necessary. They position themselves at the viewing rope as other spectators file in. The tent fills quickly; the finals draw a big crowd.
Juniper arrives five minutes later in a purple dress covered with tiny red hearts. Her hair is pinned up in victory rolls, and she's wearing red lipstick that makes me think about smearing it, tasting it. Tastingheragain,
Our eyes meet across the tent. Last night hangs between us; every touch, every moan, the way she said my name when she came. She gives me a small, private smile that goes straight to my cock.
Beatrice bustles in last, arms full of supplies. “Morning, everyone! Ready to have your ass whupped by an old lady?”
The judges take their positions. Magnus is at the center, flanked by the nervous young man from yesterday. The young judge keeps glancing at Colt, then away.
“Finalists,” Magnus begins. “Today's challenge is a free-for-all. You have three hours to create two dozen pastries that represent your unique style. Technical skill will be weighted equally with creativity and flavor.”
He pauses, looking at each of us.
