Kai's apartment was silent.
Not the kind of silence that begged to be filled with words—but the kind that felt like foreplay. The air between them was thick with anticipation, simmering with unresolved tension. Ava stepped inside slowly, her heels echoing on the marble floor. The door clicked shut behind her, and she paused, feeling that click in her spine. A lock. A barrier. A line she couldn't uncross now.
Kai stood by the window, a glass of dark whiskey in his hand, the skyline glittering behind him like a sea of secrets. His silhouette was sharp against the golden glow—power draped in quiet restraint.
"You came," he said, not turning around.
"I didn't say I wouldn't," she replied, her voice firmer than she felt.
He turned then, slow and deliberate, eyes scanning her like he already knew what she'd say next. "But you thought about not coming."
She met his gaze. "I thought about a lot of things."
He stepped forward, placing the whiskey on the table. His eyes were fire and shadow.
"Like Lucien?"
Ava didn't answer. She didn't need to. Her silence was an admission.
Kai moved closer, each step stealing the breath from her lungs. He didn't touch her—not yet. But his presence was already wrapping around her, as possessive as any embrace.
"I told you," he said, voice low, "I know where you run when you're confused."
She raised an eyebrow. "You stalking me now?"
"No," he said. "I'm protecting what's mine."
The words settled between them like thunder.
He finally reached her, close enough for her to smell his cologne—deep, expensive, intoxicating. "You still thinking about him?"
She hesitated. Then whispered, "No."
He tilted her chin up with one finger. "Good. Because tonight, Ava, I want you too full of me to remember anyone else's name."
The kiss was instant—fast, rough, claiming.
His mouth crushed hers as he backed her into the wall, hands hungry, fevered. Her blouse tore beneath his grip. She gasped when cool air hit her bare skin, but then his mouth was on her neck, her collarbone, her breasts.
"Kai—"
"Shut up," he growled.
He spun her, pressing her against the wall, pushing her skirt up with one hand while the other gripped her throat—not hard, but enough to make her tremble.
"Still wet for me?"
"Always," she whispered, eyes fluttering.
His fingers slipped between her legs and he groaned.
"Soaked," he muttered. "You're addicted."
She tried to speak, but then he dropped to his knees.
His mouth found her, relentless and greedy. His tongue moved with purpose, dragging moans from her lips that echoed through the apartment. She clutched the wall, losing herself in him.
She came. Hard. Screaming. And he didn't stop.
He held her hips, kept her there, licking and sucking and pushing her over the edge again.
Only when her knees buckled did he rise, lifting her into his arms like she weighed nothing. He carried her to the bedroom, eyes never leaving hers.
He laid her down and stood over her, undoing his shirt slowly, each button a promise.
His chest was sculpted, scarred, beautiful.
She reached out, touched a long scar that ran from his collarbone to his ribcage.
"What's this from?"
He caught her wrist gently. "The past. It doesn't matter now."
He undressed the rest of the way, letting her see all of him—his strength, his control, his desire.
He crawled over her, kissed her stomach, her thighs, her inner knees, everywhere but where she needed him.
"Kai, please—"
"No. I want you desperate. I want you begging."
She whimpered.
He finally slid inside her, slow and deep.
She gasped, arching, eyes flying open.
"Look at me," he ordered.
She did.
His rhythm was slow, torturous. He made her feel every inch of him.
"This is mine," he said, hand pressing over her heart.
She nodded, lost in him.
"Say it."
"Yours," she gasped. "I'm yours."
"Louder."
"Yours, Kai!"
He growled, speeding up.
The headboard slammed against the wall. Her moans filled the room.
He fucked her like he was erasing Lucien from her memory—like he was branding her soul.
She came again, clutching him, sobbing into his neck.
And when he came, it was with a roar of her name.
They collapsed together, sweat-slicked and shaking.
But Kai didn't move away.
He held her. Tight.
"You're mine now, Ava," he whispered. "Not just your body. All of it. Thoughts. Fears. That smart mouth."
She laughed softly against his chest.
He kissed her forehead.
"And if you ever think of running... I'll chase you. Catch you. And fuck the rebellion out of you."
She smiled.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Too much," he murmured.
She drifted into sleep, wrapped in his arms, unsure if it was safety or surrender she was falling into.
But she didn't care.
Because for the first time in years, she didn't want to run.
Not tonight.