14. Keiro
FOURTEEN
KEIRO
The kiss was everything—not the tentative exploration of their first time, but a surrender so complete it felt like coming home.
Her lips moved against his with a hunger that mirrored the raw need clawing through him, her taste flooding his senses until control became a distant memory.
His wolf surged forward aggressively, demanding more, demanding the bond completion.
Claim. Mark. Now.
Keiro had orchestrated this dinner with meticulous care—the salmon with saffron beurre blanc, the candles, the careful selection of a wine that complemented both the food and the promise of the evening.
He couldn't deny the overboard attempt to impress her, and to create a space where business could bleed into something more personal.
He was sure she'd seen right through it.
The past week of clipped phone calls and rushed lunches had been a special kind of torture, his wolf growing restless and the mate bond a constant, maddening pull.
Now, with her in his lap and her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him like she was starving, he wasn't about to question the gift she was giving him.
He didn't break the kiss. He couldn't. Instead, he stood in one fluid motion and lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms locking around his neck with instinctive grace.
Then he carried her from the dining room, their lips still locked together, and the mate bond intensifying with every step.
"Stumbling a bit there," she breathed against his mouth when he misjudged the first step to the grand staircase.
"Sorry, I'm a bit distracted," he managed against her lips, taking the grand staircase two steps at a time, driven by a singular focus.
The corridor to his private chambers seemed to stretch for miles, every second an eternity with her scent weaving around him and her heat searing through the thin fabric of her dress.
He soon fumbled with the door handle while still claiming her mouth, but he shouldered it open and carried her inside to the four-poster bed that dominated the room.
He laid her down gently, the yellow sundress a splash of sunlight against the dark sheets.
But she pulled him closer before he had a chance to reach for the delicate straps, her kiss turning demanding as her hands reached for the hem of his henley.
He reluctantly broke away to yank it over his head, tossing it aside.
Then her dress followed, the delicate straps giving way under his trembling fingers.
Tonight wasn't about rushed passion. It was a devotion and a worship he needed her to feel in every cell. He wanted to map every inch of her, to show her with his hands and mouth what words still failed to convey.
He lowered his mouth to the column of her throat, tracing the rapid pulse there with his tongue before blazing a trail downward to her breasts.
Then he lavished attention on each one, alternating between featherlight licks and deep, sucking pulls that drew sharp gasps and low moans from her lips.
The sounds were a symphony to his starved soul.
"Keiro, I need more…"
He knew exactly what she wanted.
He trailed kisses down the toned plane of her abdomen, savoring the way her muscles jumped under his lips. Then he nuzzled against the lace of her panties, breathing in the sweet, intoxicating scent of her arousal. His cock throbbed painfully against his jeans, but this was about her right now.
He hooked his fingers in the lace and drew them down her legs with deliberate slowness, her body shivering with anticipation.
When he finally lowered his mouth to her, he didn't dive in right away.
He teased, kissing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and licking a slow, maddening path inward that made her hips arch off the bed.
"Please." Her hands fisted in his hair, not pushing, but holding on as if she might float away.
He obeyed willingly, and he tasted her fully, his tongue sweeping through her slick heat before delving inside.
He built a rhythm with his tongue, then added the slow, deep thrust of two fingers, curling them just so.
She cried out her pleasure, the sound echoing off the stone walls of his bedroom.
Within minutes, he felt her tighten, her thighs clamping around his head as her back bowed off the bed.
"Let go, Poppy," he growled against her, the vibration tipping her over the edge.
Her orgasm crashed through her, a tidal wave of sensation that he felt through their bond—a dazzling burst of pure ecstasy. He drank it in, gentling his touch as she shuddered and gasped beneath him.
When he finally lifted his head, she was staring at him through hazy, sated eyes with a soft smile on her swollen lips. He started to move to kiss that smile, but she sat up, pushing him back onto the bed with surprising strength.
"My turn," she said, her voice husky with need.
Before he could process her intent, she was kneeling between his legs, her clever fingers making quick work of his button and zipper.
Then she pulled his jeans and boxers down, freeing his aching cock, and her blue eyes darkened like a predator admiring her prize.
His control started to fray at the edges, then she leaned down and took him into her mouth without hesitation, and the world went white.
"Poppy." The groan was torn from him.
Her mouth was heaven—hot, wet, and impossibly skilled.
She worked him with a combination of suction and tongue, her hand stroking in rhythm, and for a dizzying moment, he thought he might black out from the pleasure.
He braced his hands on the bed, grounding him to reality.
His wolf was howling, desperate to be inside her, to claim and be claimed, but this…
this was its own kind of perfection. Then she took him deeper, her throat working around him, and the control he prided himself on frayed into nothing.
"Enough," he rasped, his voice strained with need.
He gently pulled her off and she looked up, confusion and desire warring in her expression.
His gaze locked with hers. "I need to be inside you. Now."
Her smile returned, slow and wicked. "I was thinking the same thing."
She climbed over him and straddled his hips, the heat of her just brushing against his cock, making them both shudder.
The moonlight sliced through the bedroom windows, painting her body in stark relief against the dark of his bedroom.
Her skin glowed and her dark hair was a wild cascade over her shoulders.
His gaze traveled from the fierce set of her jaw down to the perfect, full curves of her breasts, and his wolf growled with satisfaction.
His hands moved of their own volition, rising to cup her breasts. The weight of them in his large hands was perfect, filling his palms as his thumbs swept over her nipples, feeling them peak into hard points.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, the words rough with emotion.
She smiled and reached between them, her fingers wrapping around his throbbing cock.
The sensation was electric, a direct line to his spine as she guided him to her entrance, the slick heat of her a brand against his sensitive tip.
Through the mate bond, it wasn't just sensation—it was a feedback loop of pure desire.
Her need was a wildfire, and his own want was the tinder.
It created an intensity that obliterated every carefully constructed wall he'd ever built around his heart.
She began to sink down, taking him inside her with an agonizing, exquisite slowness. Inch by torturous inch, her tight heat sheathed him, and a groan tore from his lips.
Home.
The word resonated in his soul, his wolf howling in triumphant agreement.
When he was fully seated within her, she stilled, her inner muscles fluttering around him in a maddening pulse.
She looked down at him, her expression one of fierce possession, and then she began to move.
It was a slow, deliberate roll of her hips, a rhythm designed to drive him out of his mind.
He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into the strong muscle there, not to steer but to anchor himself.
He would let her set the pace. He would let her take exactly what she needed from him.
His role here wasn't to lead; it was to withstand the glorious torment of her control.
Within minutes, her pleasure built like a storm, cresting through their bond.
Her movements became less measured and more urgent.
He met her thrust for thrust now, driving up into her as she rocked against him.
He could feel the telltale tightening of her walls and the coiling tension that promised her release.
His wolf was clawing at the inside of his skin, demanding the ultimate claim.
The question was out before he could temper it with logic.
"Let me mark you, Poppy."
She went still above him. Not in rejection but in a profound moment of consideration. He felt the spike of her fear through their bond—not of him but of the irrevocable step.
"Not yet," she whispered as she started to move again.
His wolf whined in protest. But the man understood.
Patience.
She had come this far. She was here, in his bed, giving him this. He would wait for the rest. He would wait forever if he had to.
"Alright," he said softly.
As if his acceptance freed her, she threw her head back and moved faster against him, a desperate chase for the peak.
He met her with intensity, thrusting up with a power that made the bed groan in protest. Each thrust was perfectly aimed, finding that deep spot inside her that made her cry out her pleasure.
He felt the exact moment she fractured. Her inner walls clenched around his cock in a fierce, rhythmic pulse and her body bowed as her orgasm tore through her. Through the mate bond, he felt her waves of blinding, white-hot pleasure as if they were his own.
Her climax was his undoing. The sensations through the mate bond and the intense milking of her body around his cock pulled his own release from him with violent force.
It ripped up his spine and exploded outward, his seed spilling deep inside her as a ragged groan was wrenched from his throat.
His body shuddered and every muscle locked and then went limp as the aftershocks rolled through him.
For long minutes, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the pound of two hearts slowing into sync.
But she didn't pull away. She collapsed against him, her ear over his heart and one hand pressed against his sweat-dampened chest. The simple act of it, of her not retreating back behind her walls, sent a surge of emotion through him so potent it stole his breath.
Gently, he rolled them to their sides, keeping her tucked tightly against him, holding her as if she were the only solid thing in his world. Then he pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin.
"You're the best thing to ever happen to me." His words were soft and raw with a truth he could no longer contain.
He felt her smile against his shoulder. "Even though you started by buying my land out from under me and making me cry?"
"Well, it brought you here, didn't it?" he teased as he nuzzled her hair, inhaling her wildflower and rain scent now mingled with his own. "I'd buy a hundred parcels of land if it led to this moment."
She took a deep breath as if preparing to reveal something profound, her fingers tracing his chest. "What if we stopped pretending this is just a business partnership?"
His entire body stilled, and he leaned back just enough to see her face. "What are you implying?"
Her blue eyes were clear, open, and utterly fearless. "I'm implying that I want to explore this. Us. The bond. All of it. The business is the foundation, but it's not the house. I want to build the house with you."
A smile broke across his face, so wide and unguarded it felt foreign.
It was the biggest, most genuine smile of his entire life.
Joy, fierce and bright, exploded in his chest, momentarily eclipsing everything—the pack politics, Helias's disapproval, the ninety-day deadline.
None of it mattered in the face of this.
"Nothing could possibly make me happier," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
He cupped her face and kissed her again. This kiss was nothing like the hungry, desperate ones that came before. It was slow and deep, pouring every ounce of his love, his hope, and his unwavering excitement for the future they would carve out together into that connection between their lips.
It was a promise, a vow, and a beginning.