14. Chapter fourteen #2
His eyes are huge in the starlight, reflecting the silver ripples. His mouth is parted just enough; his breath ghosts over mine. We’re so close our words die against each other’s lips.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, voice low, rough, my forehead almost touching his. “That guy at the bar—he was already dead. You hear me? Touched. Ready to turn. You didn’t take a life that wasn’t already gone.”
His throat works beneath my hand, a hard swallow against my palm. His voice comes out broken, catching on the edges. “Then why—why do I feel like this?”
“Because you’re not dead inside yet.” My grip tightens. Not cruel, just enough to make sure he feels it, feels me. “You feel because you care. You feel because you’re not me.”
His breath hitches, lips brushing mine with every word, and godsdamn it, that tingle roars into something even harder to fight.
Fuck it. I’m done with holding back. I can’t keep pretending I can.
I close the distance and crush my mouth to his.
I'm not careful. Not gentle. It’s teeth and heat, the taste of smoke and copper, the clash of something I can’t cage anymore.
For a beat I’m half afraid—afraid of what I’ll be if I give in.
Then another part of me, the one that’s been starving for anything that isn’t survival or fury, answers.
He melts into it, opens for me like he’s been waiting.
Tongues clash and slide and set my blood on fire.
A whimper escapes him, sharp and needy, and his arms slam around my neck, clinging like he’s drowning. I pull him in tighter; water slaps against our waists as I pin him to me, hand still at his throat, thumb pressing into the frantic beat beneath his skin.
Every gasp, every tiny sound he makes feeds something raw inside me—not just want, but a fierce, ridiculous protectiveness.
I want to swallow him whole and keep him from whatever comes after tonight.
I want to teach him how to harden and how to survive without losing the part that still feels.
I want to fuck him senseless until the monster in me goes quiet.
I kiss him harder, deeper, until the difference between where he ends and I begin blurs.
The tub rocks; the room rings with the wet sounds of mouths and breath and the soft, sharp edge of his moan when I tilt him and take him deeper.
Starlight shivers across his skin, making him look like something stolen from a better world.
Kee. My Kee.
And for the first time in too long, I don’t want to kill, fight, or bleed. I just want this. The want claws at me, raw and brutal, but it’s not the same hunger that usually drives me. It’s sharper. Cleaner. Like every piece of chaos in me is screaming for him alone.
His mouth is still on mine when the words scrape out, low, ragged. “Do you want this?”
Kieran nods, fast, almost frantic, lips brushing mine with every breath. Another whimper breaks loose when I don’t move right away, like his answer isn’t obvious enough already. His arms tighten around my neck, pulling me down to him like he’ll split in half if I let go.
That’s all I need. My free hand slips lower, under the water, over the ridges of his stomach, down to where he’s already straining against me. Hard. Solid. Alive. The jolt that runs through him when I wrap my fingers around him is pure fucking fire.
“Fuck…” he chokes, voice breaking against my tongue.
“Yeah.” My grip on his throat tightens just enough to keep him anchored, to keep him here. My mouth drags across his, tongue deep, claiming, until he’s panting against me, until every sound he makes sinks under my skin and stays there.
I don’t know how to do gentle. Never have. But fuck me, I want to give him something better than the monster I usually am. He deserves that, and yet here I am, hand around his throat, fist stroking him under the water roughly.
Mine , the hold I have on him demands.
Mine , those demons inside of me scream.
Yours , he answers in the way he unravels beneath me, even though the guilt, the anguish still swirls in those oceans.
“You need to let go, Kee,” I growl against his lips. “Let go of the guilt. There shouldn’t be any. That fucker was dead before you touched him. I’d have finished him myself.”
A broken sound rips out of him, half sob, half moan, and he clings tighter, nails digging into my shoulders like he’s holding on for his life.
His body trembles against mine, caught between breaking apart and burning up.
And godsdamn it, I feel it too. His fear, his fire, all of it twisting with mine until I can’t tell where his demons end and mine begin.
I press my forehead to his, our mouths still brushing. “You hear me? No guilt. Just this. Just us.”
And then I pump him harder, the water swirling around us, the room echoing with every gasp he can’t hold back.
I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but it’s… fucking perfect.
My hips buck against his, and the friction nearly undoes me. His gasp rips into my mouth, sharp and needy, and when his teeth catch my lip, bite down hard , I growl deep in my chest.
Instinct takes me, rough and unthinking, and then I do what my body screams for.
I line us up, my straining cock against his, hard to hard, pressed so fucking perfectly together. My hand closes around us both, tight, and when I stroke once, slick water easing the slide, his whole body jolts.
“Oh shit, oh shit, Max ,” he gasps, voice cracking, breaking into a moan that vibrates against my mouth.
“Yeah,” I snarl, teeth grazing his jaw as I thrust against him. “Feel that? That’s us.”
I stroke again, harder this time, twist on the upstroke, and he shudders so violently I have to tighten my grip on him.
His arms cling around me, nails scratching my back, legs trembling, body going pliant against me like he’s mine to keep.
Every desperate sound he makes feeds the fire in my gut, dragging me closer to the edge.
His forehead’s still against mine, eyes squeezed shut as if he can’t handle it. And I watch. I watch and watch as I pump faster, our cocks sliding together in my grip, and all I can think is how fucking right this feels.
How finally—finally—something clicks .
How every time before was off, wrong, like I was forcing myself into a shape that never fit.
How it was always supposed to be him .
Him. Me. Here.
Our bodies grind together, slick with water, with sweat, with need . Every drag of my fist rips another sound out of him, sharp and helpless, like he’s unraveling against me. His arms lock tight around my neck, his whole body trembling, clinging like I’m the only thing holding him up.
Our tags knock together between us, his silver against my gold, clinking with every movement. The sound is sharp, metallic, a reminder of everything that’s supposed to keep us apart. Instead, it just makes me hold on tighter.
“Max—” His voice is wrecked, broken open, begging and beautiful.
“I’ve got you,” I rasp, grinding harder, twisting my wrist just enough to push him over the edge. “Let it go, Kee. Just fucking let it go.”
He cries out, my name breaking on his tongue as he shudders, release spilling from him. He clings tighter, shaking apart in my arms.
That’s all it takes. The sight of him unraveling, the sound of him breaking for me. It rips me open, drags me down with him. I groan into his mouth as I come, hips stuttering against his, spilling hard.
We’re a fucking mess. Breathless, shaking, clinging together in the tub, water sloshing over the sides and onto the tiles.
But for once, I don’t feel hollow after.
For once, I feel like maybe the fire in my chest found somewhere it belongs.
Kieran doesn’t let go. Even after the last tremor shakes through him, even after the water cools off around us, he clings tight, face buried in the crook of my neck. His breath is hot against my skin, ragged, uneven, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he loosens his grip.
I hold him there a moment, my hand smoothing over the back of his head, fingers tangling in wet strands of gold. My Kee. Then I shift, slow, steady, rinsing him clean. I wash it all from his skin, every trace of the fight, every shadow of what he did tonight.
“Easy,” I murmur against his temple. “You’re fine.”
He doesn’t answer, just clings tighter. So I scoop him up, his body limp with exhaustion but still gripping at me like I’m the last solid thing in the world.
The room is cold, the floor slick underfoot, but the big bed waits—massive, soft with blankets I’ve dragged up here over the years, a fortress against the dark. I dry us both off quickly, lower him onto it, pull a blanket over us both, and sink down beside him.
Kieran curls in instantly, face still hidden against my throat, heartbeat hammering against mine. I wrap an arm around him, pull him close, and for the first time in too fucking long, this house feels warm.