Kieran's fingers lingered on her jaw as if he didn't want to let go. His words still echoed between them—"It's obsession."
Lana didn't move. She couldn't.
Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears, drowning out everything else. Her lips were slightly parted, her blouse rumpled, her body still recovering from the way he'd just consumed her. But it was his eyes that undid her—the need, the confusion, the hunger. It wasn't just about lust anymore.
"I should go," she said softly, though she didn't step away.
"You won't," he said just as softly, leaning closer. "You'll stay because you want to feel it again."
She hated that he was right. She hated that her body already ached for more.
Kieran's lips brushed hers—not a kiss, not quite. A taste.
"I haven't had enough of you," he whispered against her mouth. "Not even close."
Before she could reply, his mouth crashed down on hers again. This time, there was no hesitation, no control—just fire. He kissed her like a man unraveling, hands sliding down her waist, gripping her hips like he needed them to breathe.
She let out a sound—half protest, half surrender—but Kieran swallowed it, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a dominance that made her knees weaken.
Then she was moving—backward—until her spine met the wall. His body pressed into hers, solid and hard, pinning her there as his lips devoured hers with greedy urgency.
"You drive me insane," he growled against her lips. "You smile at me like you're innocent, but your eyes tell a different story."
His mouth moved down her neck, sucking, biting—branding. She gasped, fingers threading into his hair, pulling when he latched onto the spot just below her ear.
"You're so soft," he murmured, hands sliding up her ribs, under her blouse. "So fucking soft."
His fingers found her bra again, tugging it down, baring her to him without shame. Then his mouth was on her breast, hot and wet and wicked. She cried out, arching into him as his tongue swirled around her nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, hard.
"Kieran—" Her voice broke. He didn't stop. He moved to the other breast, worshipping it with just as much desperate attention. Lana's legs trembled.
"Say my name again," he demanded hoarsely.
"Kieran—please—"
That made him groan. He released her breast with a wet pop, dragging his mouth back up to hers, biting her lower lip as his fingers slipped between her thighs again.
"No panties this time," he growled. "Did you take them off before you came in here?"
She was too breathless to answer, too ashamed to admit she had.
He smirked. "That's what I thought."
His hand slid under her skirt, two fingers parting her folds. She was soaked. He hissed between his teeth as he pushed one inside her, slow and deep.
"You're still so tight," he murmured against her throat. "So hot."
Her head fell back against the wall, moaning when he added another finger, thrusting slowly. Her thighs spread wider on instinct, letting him in, letting him own her.
His other hand gripped her throat—not choking, just holding her there, reminding her who was in control.
"You're mine," he whispered. "Say it."
"No," she whimpered, tears in her voice.
He curled his fingers inside her, hitting that spot that made her knees buckle.
"Say it."
Her nails dug into his shoulders. "I… I hate you."
"You'll hate me more when I stop." He stilled his hand, breathing heavy.
"No—please—" She was panting now, desperate.
"Say it."
She clenched her eyes shut. "I'm yours."
He smiled darkly. "Good girl."
And then he was on his knees.
She barely had time to register it before he lifted her leg over his shoulder and buried his face between her thighs. His tongue licked a long, slow stroke that made her cry out, hands flying to his hair.
"Kieran!"
He moaned into her, sucking her clit into his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling while his fingers pumped inside her again. Her hips bucked. Her cries grew louder. And when he added just the right pressure—his tongue, his fingers, his grip—she shattered.
Her climax tore through her like a wave, ripping her open and flooding her senses. She trembled violently against the wall, sobbing his name as he held her through every spasm.
When she finally opened her eyes, he was standing again, his mouth wet with her. He looked like a man on the edge of madness.
"I could get addicted to that taste," he said huskily, brushing his thumb over her lips.
She leaned into the wall, boneless, wrecked.
Kieran looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that made sense to him—and the one thing threatening to break him.
"I don't want to stop this," he admitted, voice low and raw. "But you need to tell me right now, Lana… if I'm going too far."
Her eyes searched his, stunned by the shift in his tone. Beneath all the dominance, the control, the need—there was fear.
"No," she whispered. "You're not."
That was all he needed.
He kissed her again—slower this time, deeper. His hands cupped her face like she was something precious. It wasn't lust now. It was something more dangerous.
When they finally parted, both breathing heavy, Kieran leaned his forehead against hers.
"I'm not letting you go," he said. "You've already ruined me."