After Kyle, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to say those words again and mean them. I wasn’t even sure I knew what they meant, because I didn’t. I knew what it was to pour myself out to someone and get nothing in return, to break apart piece by piece andcallit love.
But I didn’t really know. Not until these wolves fit those broken pieces back together bit by bit and showed me they could form a different picture.
One where I’m safe and cherished and loved in a way that has nothing to do with my magic or how many pieces I can break off myself and still function.
Killian opens his mouth, but I kiss him before he can respond.
It’s not gentle. There’s nothing gentle about what we’re both feeling right now. His hands come up to grip my arms, and for a moment I think he’s going to push me away again.
He doesn’t.
He pulls me closer instead, kissing me back with a hunger that probably should scare me, all things considered, but it doesn’t. It feels too right, his mouth hot against mine. His fingers dig into my shoulders hard enough to bruise, but I don’t care. I want proof that this moment happened.
“We should stop,” he says against my lips. “This definitely isn’t safe for you.”
“No.” I climb into his lap, straddling him on the cold slate tiles, feeling the heat of his body even through our clothes. “I need you, Killian. I need to feel you.”
His hands find my hips and grip hard. For a moment he just holds me there, his forehead pressed against mine, both of us breathing hard.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.” I kiss him again. Softer this time. “I trust you.”
Something breaks in him. I feel it through the bond, a wall crumbling. His mouth finds mine again and this time there’s no hesitation or holding back.
His hands slide under my shirt, palms rough against my skin. I’m already pulling at his clothes, desperate to feel him, to have nothing between us. The cold air hits my bare shoulders and I shiver, but Killian’s hands are warm, trailing fire everywhere they touch.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, repositioning us so my back is against the slope of the roof. The slate is cold against my spine and his body above me is hot.
“Still okay?” His voice is rough with holding back.
“Yes. Please.”
He strips me efficiently. Jeans, underwear, pushed down and discarded somewhere on the tiles. His own clothes follow. And then he’s pressed against me, the full length of his body covering mine, and I can feel how much he wants this.
How much we both need it.
His mouth finds my neck, and he showers me with kisses down to my collarbone, the curve of my breast. I arch into his touch, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
“Killian—”
“I know.” He’s moving lower now, kissing a path down my stomach.
When his mouth finds me, I nearly come off the roof entirely. His tongue is hot and skilled and he knows exactly what I like, knows how to make me come unglued with nothing but his mouth. I’m gasping, writhing, my hands groping for purchase on the smooth slate tiles.
“Please,” I manage. “I want you to?—”
He knows what I want. He always knows.
He moves back up my body, positioning himself at my entrance. Our eyes meet. In the starlight, his are completely blue again, clear and present.
Killian.Not the monster, only my mate.
He pushes in slowly, giving me time to adjust and giving himself time to maintain control. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him deeper, refusing to let him take it too slow just because he thinks I’m fragile.
