Chapter 29
KENNA
F rom here on out, Kenna didn’t think she could tell him no—even if she wanted to.
Being around him was like holding on to a live wire.
The shock had already hit, running straight into her bones, but as long as she didn’t let go, as long as she kept herself in the current, it didn’t hurt.
It would only burn when she broke contact.
His mouth pulled at hers until she forgot how to breathe, and when he let her come up it wasn’t any better, because his lips found new places to bite and suck, kissing down her neck, and up her clavicle.
His hands roamed like they couldn’t get enough of her—he was acting like a man possessed—and when they reached her shoulders and she felt him take hold of the fabric she managed to say, “Zipper! In the back!” in time, before he ripped the whole thing off.
He followed her direction hastily, and she shrugged the whole top down until she was sitting astride him, half naked and panting.
“What is this?” he asked aloud, and she shied back, thinking he meant one of her scars, a cruel one that rose over her shoulder, down onto her breast—but then she realized he was talking about her lacy bra, which matched her underwear.
“It’s so my breasts don’t get pendulous,” she teased, and he recognized it as such with a grunt.
“Does it matter to you?” he said, sounding slightly ominous.
“Yes?” she squeaked.
“Then take it off, quickly. Because I fear I would not be kind.”
Her hands flew behind her to undo the latch. She shrugged it forward, and then he gave a gasp.
“They are small,” he murmured, and Kenna had a moment where she strongly regretted the last fifteen minutes of her life, until he added, “But they are perfect.”
And then he picked her up like she weighed absolutely nothing and brought one in to suck. She gasped—then ran her fingers through his hair, moaning softly as he switched to kiss the other. His dark eyes looked up, watching her, clearly enjoying her pleasure.
“Tarian,” she whispered, fighting him briefly till he set her down, making him let her fiercely kiss him back. She felt him relent under her attention, but it was only for a second—because then he grabbed her knees and pulled her tightly to him.
From this new position, her hips to his, his interest in her felt inescapable, even more so when he growled, “Let me enter.”
She gave a somewhat frantic nod. “Yes.”
His eyes closed briefly, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, and then he grabbed her ass to raise her up—so that he could reach between them and free himself—but Kenna knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
She pulled her skirt up and yanked her panties aside, shameless.
Seeing that made him make a sound—deep, raw, and almost wounded—as his hands clamped onto her hips to hold her steady.
And she didn’t need to know what his dick looked like beneath her skirt—it could’ve been as green as his blood, and she wouldn’t have cared. All she needed to know was how it felt going inside her as he pushed her down, spreading her gently as his chest heaved and his jaw dropped.
“Kenna,” he whispered. “Yes,” he said, with a deeper voice. “This—this is right.”
And she couldn’t disagree. The lightning that had struck with their first kiss never faded—it only deepened, pulsing inside her now, stretching her open, heat pouring through her veins—and she made a small sound as she found his hilt and he bottomed out inside her.
“I knew it,” he said to himself. “You were meant for me.”
Then he took hold of her hips and started rocking.