Chapter 29 Keira
KEIRA
His mouth consumes mine, and I forget where I end and he begins. His hands are all over me, and his kiss is anything but gentle. It's raw. Demanding. Like he's been holding himself back and finally snapped.
I kiss him just as fiercely, my fingers gripping him, nails scraping skin. The counter digs into my hip as I lean into him, trying to get closer, needing more.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his chest heaving, his eyes dark and wild. "Keira—"
"Don't," I breathe. "Don't you dare apologize or ask if I'm sure."
His jaw tightens.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, his hands gripping my thighs as he sets me on the counter. The granite is cold beneath me, shocking against my overheated skin. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct, pulling him closer, and I feel the bulge of his cock against me.
I melt into him, into the kiss, into the feeling of his body pressed against mine. His skin is warm, his muscles hard beneath my palms as I explore the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs.
His lips move down my neck, teeth scraping just enough to make me gasp. My fingers dive into his hair, and he kisses me.
"I've been thinking about the last time we were together like this, and I can't get you out of my mind," he says in between kissing my skin. "You've been driving me insane."
"Me too," I manage, my voice shaky. "I've been craving you since. It's been hard," I say, not caring how vulnerable I sound.
He pulls off my shorts in one motion, panties with them. I moan into his mouth as the cold air hits my sensitive parts, and his hands grip my thighs and spread me open.
"Then let me make it up to you."
Before I can ask what he means, he drops to his knees.
My breath stutters. "Octavian."
"Shh," he says, voice wrecked with need. "I've thought about doing this to you since the first night you mouthed off to me."
His hands grip me and drag me forward until I'm teetering on the edge of the counter. Then his hands force my legs open, holding me, and his mouth is on me.
Hot. Starved. Devouring.
My head falls back with a cry as his tongue slides through me, as he groans against my skin like I'm the first meal he's ever had. He licks me like he's not going to stop until I come apart for him.
My hands fly to his hair, my back arching off the counter. His tongue moves perfectly, licking and sucking, finding every sensitive spot.
"Oh God," I gasp, my thighs trembling.
He groans against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my core. "Sweetest fucking thing I've ever tasted."
His words are filthy, possessive, and they shouldn't turn me on this much, but wow, do they.
One of his hands leaves my thigh, fingers digging into my hip to hold me steady. The other slips between my legs and spreads me open wider, so his tongue can go deeper, can fuck me with slow, devastating strokes that have my heels digging into his back.
"Fuck," I gasp, clawing at the counter. "Octavian. God."
He groans like I just gave him oxygen.
"That's it," he says, breath hot against my soaked skin. "Say my name again."
He sucks my clit between his lips, tongue circling, pressure perfect.
"Octavian."
The pleasure is so sharp, so overwhelming, that I can't hold back. I feel my body tensing while also feeling like I'm floating off the counter.
I grab his hair and pull his head against my clit as my orgasm rips through me like lightning. I grind against his mouth as my legs shake and my voice sticks in my throat as I come on his tongue.
He doesn't let up, just keeps licking through it, like he wants every last drop of my pleasure.
When I finally relax, my body's limp and I'm giggling at how intense the climax was.
He pulls back, his lips glistening. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving mine.
"I could do that every day," he says.
I sit up and kiss him deep and sensually, getting the full taste of myself on his lips. I moan, grabbing his shoulders, needing him inside me now.
He lifts my shirt off, unhooks my bra, and begins sucking my nipples. I lick my lips as I reach down and stroke him from outside his sweatpants. He's so incredibly hard.
For a moment, I can't decide if I want him in my mouth or inside me. Either way, I need to feel him.
I slide my hand under his pants, and he helps me, shoving his sweatpants down and freeing himself.
Jesus, I forgot how damn huge he was. I stroke his thick shaft and feel some precum on my fingers.
As he kisses my neck, I bring a finger to my mouth and lick him off me. Salty and all mine.
"Last time," he says, coming up and kissing my lips, "we fucked without a condom. Do I need to get one?"
"No," I shake my head and kiss him while stroking him. "I'm on the pill. We're all good. Now get this," I say, squeezing his cock, "inside me. Now."
My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.
He grabs himself and positions the tip right at my entrance.
He pushes into me slowly, and I gasp at the stretch, the fullness. He's so big, and like last time, it's almost too much, but I don't want him to stop because I know I can take him.
"Fuck," I scream, his forehead dropping to mine. "Gentle, baby," I say instinctively, scooting back.
He grabs me and pulls me forward. "You know the rules," he says, kissing me. "You take it like a good girl."
I can't speak. I can only hold onto him as he sinks deeper, inch by agonizing inch, until he's fully inside me.
For a moment, neither of us moves. We just breathe, foreheads pressed together, his hands gripping my hips so I can't move.
Then he pulls back and thrusts into me.
I cry out, gripping his shoulders hard as he fills me in hard strokes, over and over.
"You feel like sin," he says, voice strangled. "Like heaven and hell and everything in between."
He continues with his brutal rhythm. It's deep and punishing, like he's gone primal and I've unleashed it.
Every thrust hits a spot that has me gasping, moaning, falling apart.
He grips my hair and pulls, sending my vision to the ceiling.
"Who do you belong to?" he growls, his voice rough. "Say you're mine."
"You," I gasp, my eyes rolling back from him filling me relentlessly.
"Again."
"I'm yours, Octavian. I'm yours."
He groans, tightening his grip in my hair and pulling me to his face. He kisses me. "Good girl."
His hips snap against mine, each thrust driving me higher.
The praise sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I tighten around him, earning another groan.
"Fuck me like I belong to you," I say, my voice trembling. "Own me."
He angles himself, hitting a spot inside me that makes me see stars. I'm so close, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.
Suddenly, he pulls me off the table and stands in the kitchen, holding me in the air, my legs wrapped around him, keeping him inside me.
He starts fucking me harder and harder as I'm suspended in the air, holding onto him. His hands grip my ass, lifting me, slamming me down onto him with each thrust.
It's a pleasure I've never experienced, and I grind into him, the angle sending electricity through me.
I feel myself going beyond the point of no return, and I hug him tightly.
As I shatter again, my orgasm tears through me with a force that leaves me breathless. I cry out his name, my body clenching around him, my inner walls closing around his cock. I close my eyes with such force I see a flash of white, followed by stars.
My vision is hazy, and I can't even focus as I convulse and shake from him thrusting into me and my own body riding the best orgasm of my life.
He doesn't stop; he keeps going as his breath turns to short, quick bursts.
I lick his neck and whisper in his ear, "Come inside me. I want to feel you for hours."
That's all it takes, and with a final word in what I'm assuming is Romanian, he shudders against me and comes, body shaking, arms braced tight around mine like he's the only thing holding me to the earth.
Then I feel his legs get wobbly, and he grabs the counter with his left hand and sits me back down on it.
He thrusts a few more times, slowly this time, milking out every drop from his cock, filling me with his warm seed.
After a few moments, he pulls out, and I feel the loss.
"You're so good at taking me. How do you feel?" he asks.
“Amazing.”
"I just can't be gentle when I'm around you, Keira. You bring out something in me."
"Well, I didn't ask you to be,” I say and smile. “I don't want you to be."
He smiles back and kisses me. "Good."
"You're beautiful," he says, his voice rough.
Heat floods my cheeks, and I smile.
"Shit, you really are beautiful. It's crazy."
I run my finger up and down his cheek. "You already said that."
"I'll say it as many times as I need to. It's true."
He helps me off the counter, his hands steadying me when my legs threaten to give out. He hands me my clothes, and we dress.
He then pulls me into his arms, holding me close.
I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. For the first time in God knows how long, I feel at peace.
But then reality creeps in and doesn't allow me that feeling for long. The gala tonight. The Phantom King. The threats. Everything.
"Octavian," I say, not moving my head.
"Yeah?"
"What happens now?"
He's quiet for a long moment, his hand stroking my hair. "I don't know," he admits. "But I'm here, and we'll get through this."
"Yeah," I say, because what else should I say?
"In the meantime, why don't you go back to bed for a bit? I'll go with you," he says, and I look up at him. "If that's alright?"
I smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."
We walk back to my room, and as he lays me down in my bed and pulls the blanket over us, still holding me like he might never let go, I realize amidst all this chaos, I'm falling for him hard. It's scary because it's uncontrollable.
And as I drift off to sleep, my head resting on his chest, I can't help but think,
I'm his.
And maybe I was always meant to be.