Chapter 23 Keira
KEIRA
His mouth is on mine, and I forget how to breathe.
Octavian kisses me like he's been dying for it, like I'm the only oxygen in the room, and every nerve in my body lights up at once. His hands grip my face, tilting my head back as his tongue sweeps against mine, demanding, claiming, setting me on fire.
The anger that's been burning in my chest for weeks, the frustration, the resentment, the constant battle for control, it all twists into something else. It's as if it completely evaporates, like it never existed.
Every inch of me goes hot, tight, aching. It's all so raw and aggressive and so goddamn electric I can't think straight. One second I want to fight him, the next I'm melting into him, drowning in the feel of his mouth moving against mine.
His body presses into mine, all hard muscle and heat, and I can feel every inch of him against me. His chest. His hips. The thick bulge straining against his gym shorts that makes my stomach flip.
Tingles explodes through my entire body, and I gasp into the kiss, my nails digging into his shoulders.
God, even his scent is intoxicating. Sweat and something darker, something that makes me want to bite him just to see what he tastes like.
And I want more. I want all of it.
I get so overwhelmed, I push him away because I need space, because I can't think. He steps back, and I know he's not actually letting me push him.
He looks down at me. Hungry. Waiting.
“I can't control myself when I'm with you, Keira. I can't stop thinking about you. Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to stop.”
Should he stop?
Let's see, I'm soaking wet, my damn underwear clings to me, and the ache between my thighs is so intense it almost hurts. My chest is heaving, and I feel as if my brain has exited the chat.
I don't filter myself. I say exactly how I'm feeling for once, no hesitation, just truth.
"Don't you fucking dare stop," I say and practically run to him, kissing him with every ounce of raw passion exploding through my body.
He groans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, and then he's lifting me like I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist, locking my ankles behind his back as he slams me against the wall.
I hit it with a thud, but I don't care. I just kiss him harder, my hips rolling against him because I want him to ease this unbearable ache.
His hands are everywhere, gripping my ass, sliding up my thighs, fingers digging into my skin like he's trying to brand me. He holds me there with one arm while his other hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat.
"Fuck," he breathes against my neck before his tongue licks my sensitive skin.
I gasp, arching into him. His mouth moves lower, biting and sucking along my collarbone while his hips grind against mine, the friction almost enough to make me come right here.
I bite his lip, and he groans, the sound so primal it makes me clench.
"Keira," he growls, pulling back just enough to look at me. He looks at me like he wants to wreck me, and I lick my lips at the thought.
He sets me down and yanks my shirt over my head in one swift motion, tossing it somewhere behind him without looking. His eyes drop to my chest, and he bends down and starts kissing my chest.
I reach around and unlatch my bra and slide it off my shoulders.
"Jesus Christ, Keira," he says, looking down at my breasts as my bra falls to the floor. "You're fucking perfect, just like I imagined."
He scoops me back up again before I can respond, and in an instant, I'm back to being pinned against the wall, arching my chest for him to explore.
His mouth latches onto my breast, teeth grazing my nipple, and I cry out. He sucks hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak while his hand kneads my other breast, pinching and rolling until I'm gasping, trembling, completely at his mercy.
He's rough, rougher than I expected. Sucking and biting, leaving marks I'll feel for days. And I love it. I love the way he's claiming me, the way he's finally letting go of all that iron control.
"Octavian," I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan.
He switches to my other breast, giving it the same relentless attention. Licking and sucking in the best ways possible. My head falls back against the wall in an erotic trance, and my body feels on fire.
Then he's moving, carrying me across the room while I'm still wrapped around him. His lips never leave my chest, kissing and licking like he'll die if he stops. He drops to his knees on the gym mat, laying me down beneath him, his weight pressing me into the floor.
I reach for his shorts and drag them down because I need to see him, need to know what I'm dealing with.
When I finally see his cock, my breath catches.
Holy shit.
He's huge, thick, and hard as hell.
My throat goes dry, and my stomach flips with a mix of desire and nerves.
"Octavian, we shouldn't. You'll be fired if anyone finds out.”
“I don't fucking care,” he says. “You're mine Keira and I won't stop until I've tasted every last inch of you,” he continues before kissing me again, swallowing whatever protest I was about to make.
His tongue claims every inch of my mouth while his hands hook into my pants.
He rips them down my legs along with my soaked underwear, tossing them aside as he sits up on his knees, looking at me spread out beneath him, completely bare.
His fingers graze my entrance, sliding up and down my wetness. He brings his finger to his lips and licks it.
"Perfect and delicious," he says, then grabs his cock and slides the tip along my entrance.
I gasp. I'm not ready. I'm too tight. He's too big.
He climbs back over me like he's going to ruin me and settles between my thighs, sliding just the tip in. I gasp, tensing immediately.
He's too big.
"Wait." My hands fly to his shoulders, trying to push him back. "It's too much."
But he doesn't stop. He leans down, his mouth at my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
"You can take it. Be a good girl."
He pushes in another inch, slow but relentless, and I whimper. I shift up and try to move away, out from under him.
His hand grips my hip, holding me in place.
"Don't run from me."
I shake my head, gasping. "Octavian, I can't—"
"Yes, you can," he growls, leaving no room for argument. “You want this don't you?”
“Yes,” I say trembling, “more than anything.”
"Then take all of me, Keira."
He thrusts in deeper, and I cry out, half pain, half pleasure, my body stretching around him in a way that's almost painful.
He doesn't stop. Doesn't slow down. He pulls back and slams into me, and my body jerks from the force.
I try to scramble back, my hands pressing against his chest, but he just follows me, driving into me deeper, forcing me to take every thick inch.
He slams in again, harder this time, burying himself all the way inside me.
I try to push at his shoulders, overwhelmed.
"Relax baby, you're so tight," he growls, grabbing both my wrists and pinning them above my head with one hand.
He sets a brutal, punishing pace. Each thrust is like he's trying to fuck the defiance right out of me.
I can't breathe. Can't think. All I can do is feel him, every thick inch of him splitting me open, stretching me, filling me so completely I can't tell where I end and he begins.
I moan, unable to get away, and suddenly the pain starts to turn to a pleasure I've never felt before. Now, I don't want to run, I want to be fucked.
My legs wrap around his waist as I meet his thrusts, giving as good as I get.
"That's it," he rasps, his free hand sliding down my body to grip my hip, pulling it higher, changing the angle so he's hitting even deeper. "Take every fucking inch."
The pain is completely gone now, replaced by something hot and overwhelming and so intense I can barely stand it.
His hand slides between us, his thumb finding my clit and circling it with rough, relentless pressure.
"Oh God," I gasp, my back arching off the mat.
"Look at me," he demands.
I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze, and the intensity there, the raw hunger, the possessiveness, nearly undoes me.
"You're mine now," he says, his voice rough with need. "I want to hear how much you've been craving this."
I can't. I shouldn't.
But the words spill out anyway. "I'm craving you baby. Give me more."
His thumb makes a circling motion around my clit, going faster and faster.
I feel my body tensing. I can't hold on. I can't... I shatter.
I scream his name as the orgasm crashes through me, my body clenching around him so hard I see stars. Every nerve ending lights up at once, pleasure flooding through me in waves so intense I can't breathe.
But he doesn't stop. Doesn't slow down. He fucks me through it, drawing it out until I'm shaking, gasping, barely coherent.
"That's a good girl," he says, slowing slightly, making me feel every inch of his thick cock sliding in and out.
He grabs one leg spreading it wider, “I want you coming again baby. I'm not done with you,” he demands.
He's made me come so hard I don't think I have it in me.
"I—I can't."
"You will, don't worry,” he says and leans down to kiss me. His lips trial down my neck."
He pulls out before I can process what's happening and flips me over.
"On your knees," he orders and grabs a fistful of my hair, tugging it. "And don't think about running."
I obey, my body trembling, still riding the aftershocks of my orgasm.
He releases my hair and grabs my hips, yanking me back onto him, sliding back into me. This angle is deeper, fuller, overwhelming in a way that makes me cry out.
I drop to my elbows, my forehead pressing into the mat as he pounds into me from behind, each thrust driving me forward.
His hand fists in my hair again, pulling my head back, arching my spine.
"Look at you," he growls. "Fucking perfect like this."
I can barely speak. I'm babbling half-formed words, pleas, curses. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. All I know is that I need him to never stop, need this feeling to last forever.
He leans over me, his chest pressing against my back, his mouth close to my ear.
"You feel that? How your pussy grabs me? This body was made for me," he says, his thrusts getting erratic, harder, faster. "I'm going to destroy you Keira Killaney and make you beg for more before I'm done."
I bite my lip and moan as he stretches me. Right now, I'd let him do anything because I want every second of it.
"Come with me," he says and slides his hand down to my clit, fucking me faster and faster.
It doesn't take much for my body to start tingling again. The fire and ice coursing through me, the electricity of an oncoming orgasm ripping through me, and I can feel myself tensing up, clamping around his cock.
“Please Octavian,” I moan, “I need you.”
His breaths become ragged, his thrusts more erratic.
"Fuck, Keira," he groans as he comes, spilling inside me, his entire body locking. The feeling of him pulsing inside me, filling me, tips me over the edge again, and I come with him, both of us shattering together.
He thrusts a few more times slowly, emptying himself into me as I ride the pleasure wave of my own release. My eyes are still blurry and out of focus from the force of the orgasm.
After a few moments, he pulls out slowly, and I feel him leaking down my thighs. The raw intimacy of it makes my chest tighten.
I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath.
I rub my face, my brain still foggy with post-orgasmic bliss.
He sits up beside me, running a hand through his hair, looking just as wrecked as I feel.
We don't speak for a long moment. The silence stretches between us, heavy with everything we're not saying.
Then he clears his throat.
"Sorry if I hurt you. I just got a little carried away," he says. "You have that effect on me."
I prop myself up on my elbows and smile. "It's okay. I liked it."
We sit for a few minutes, each recounting what we just did, and then he turns to me and holds out his hand. "Here, let me help you up."
I stand, and he gathers my clothes. I sneak a peek at his butt before he hands them to me.
We get dressed, and he turns to me.
"If you want to go after this person you came in telling me about," he says, "tell me who he is and where to find him. I'll go get him. Bring him to a controlled area. You, your brothers, whoever, can talk to him there."
I turn to him, still tasting him on my lips, still feeling his release inside me.
"Okay," I say, my voice soft, and brush the hair out of my face. "Does this, like, change anything between us?"
His gaze drops to my mouth, then lower, where he was inside me seconds ago.
"I'm still protecting you," he says, voice low. "But now I'll take it personally if anyone touches what I've had my hands on."
A heat rolls through me at the blunt claim, and I flash a small smile.
Because we both know nothing will ever be the same after this.
And God only knows how that's going to end.