Bonus Kaia #2
He stops in the doorway. Takes in the scene — me naked and flushed, Finn on his knees with his lips swollen, Malrik’s hand still in Finn’s hair.
His golden eyes go dark.
“Started without me,” he says. Not a complaint. An observation.
“You were taking too long.” Finn doesn’t move from his position. “Snooze, lose.”
“I was meditating.”
“That’s just sleeping with extra steps.”
“It is not—”
“Kieran.” Malrik’s voice cuts through. Calm. Commanding. “Sit down.”
Something flickers in Kieran’s eyes. A thousand years of power, and he still responds to Malrik’s authority. Because he wants to. Because it’s easier to let someone else direct when you’ve spent centuries directing yourself.
He moves to the armchair by the window. Settles into it. Long legs spread. Golden eyes fixed on us.
Watching.
Always watching.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he says.
“Wasn’t planning to.” Malrik pulls Finn up onto the couch beside me. “In fact… Kaia. Look at him.”
I turn my head. Meet Kieran’s gaze.
He’s already hard. I can see the outline through his thin linen pants. His hand rests on his thigh, inches away from where he wants to touch.
“Touch yourself,” I tell him. “I want to see.”
His mouth curves. “Giving orders now?”
“Someone has to. Otherwise you’ll just sit there for hours.”
“I have excellent self-control.”
“I know. It’s annoying. Touch yourself, Kieran.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment. Testing. Waiting.
Then his hand moves to his cock. Presses down through the fabric. His jaw tightens.
“More,” I breathe.
He undoes the laces of his pants. Frees himself.
And gods.
Even after three years, the sight of him makes my mouth water.
Long and thick and flushed dark, curving slightly upward like it’s already reaching for me.
He’s big — they all are — but Kieran is intimidating.
The kind of cock that made me nervous the first time and makes me clench now just looking at it.
Heavy. Built like the rest of him — for endurance.
He wraps his hand around himself. Strokes once, slow and deliberate, base to tip, his thumb dragging over the head where he’s already leaking.
His eyes never leave mine.
“Like what you see?” Low. Knowing.
“You know I do.”
“Then keep watching.”
The bond floods with his want. Ancient. Patient. Burning.
“Keep watching him,” Malrik murmurs in my ear. “Don’t look away. No matter what we do to you.”
Finn’s hand slides between my thighs. I jerk.
“Eyes on Kieran,” Malrik reminds me.
I force myself to keep looking. To watch Kieran stroke himself while Finn’s fingers push inside me and Malrik’s teeth scrape my neck.
Kieran’s rhythm is steady. Controlled. Even now, even with his cock in his hand and his eyes eating me alive, he’s in control.
I want to break that control.
“Faster,” I tell him.
His strokes speed up. Just slightly.
“Spread your legs more. Let me see.”
He does.
“Good.” The word comes out breathy. Finn is doing something devastating with his fingers. “You’re so pretty like that, Kieran. All spread out. Touching yourself while you watch them touch me.”
Something cracks in his expression. A flash of heat beneath all that patience.
“Careful,” he warns. Low. Dangerous.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll come over there and show you what a thousand years of patience looks like when it finally runs out.”
Finn laughs against my shoulder. “Sounds like a threat.”
“It’s a promise.”
The door opens again.
Torric first. Shirtless already, golden skin gleaming, that perpetual heat rolling off him in waves.
He stops. Looks at me spread out between Finn and Malrik. Looks at Kieran in the chair with his cock in his hand.
“Finally,” he growls. “Been waiting for someone to start.”
“You could have started without us,” Finn points out.
“What’s the fun in that?”
Aspen appears behind him. Cool and composed, ice-blue eyes taking in the scene with interest. “We brought wine. Though I’m guessing we should put it on ice for later.”
“Much later,” Malrik agrees.
And then Darian.
He shoulders past both of them, pulls his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, and drops onto the couch beside me like he owns it.
“Hi,” he says. And kisses me.
Not gentle. Not reverent. Not the Darian who used to kneel and wait and apologize for wanting.
This Darian takes. His hand fists in my hair. His tongue sweeps into my mouth. He kisses me like he’s been starving for it, even though we fucked this morning against the kitchen counter while Finn cheered us on.
“Missed this,” he murmurs against my lips.
“It’s been six hours.”
“Way too long.”
Three years of being loved has turned Darian into a menace. Gone is the guilt, the constant need to earn his place. In its place is confidence. Hunger. A man who knows exactly what he wants and isn’t afraid to take it.
I love this version of him.
“Kieran’s being a voyeur again,” Darian says without looking. “Someone should do something about that.”
“I’m not being a voyeur. I’m participating from a distance.”
“That’s literally what voyeurism is.”
“I’m touching myself. That’s participation.”
“Barely.”
Darian pulls back from me. Looks at Kieran. A slow smile spreads across his face.
Oh no.
Oh yes.
“Kieran.” Darian’s voice drops. Intimate. Dangerous. “Come here.”
The room goes still.
This is new.
Not entirely — there have been moments over the past three years.
Charged glances. Accidental touches that lasted too long.
The tension between Light and Dragon that started building the night Kieran watched Darian take me apart in that cave.
Something shifted then. Something neither of them has ever really acknowledged.
But they’ve never…
Not directly.
Not like this.
Kieran’s hand stills on his cock. His golden eyes fix on Darian. Assessing. Ancient.
“Why?”
“Because I want to touch you.” Darian says it simply. Like it’s obvious. Like he hasn’t just shifted the entire energy of the room. “Because I’ve wanted to for a while. Because we’re all here, and we’re all safe, and I’m tired of wondering what you taste like.”
Finn makes a strangled sound. “Holy shit.”
“Seconded,” Torric mutters.
Malrik just watches. Silver eyes gleaming. He knew this was coming. Of course he did. Malrik knows everything.
Kieran doesn’t move for a long moment. The bond hums with uncertainty — not fear, just… newness. Even after a thousand years, there are still firsts.
Then he rises from the chair. Tucks himself back in — barely.
He crosses the room.
Darian stands to meet him. They’re nearly the same height, but Kieran has centuries of presence that make him feel larger.
“If you’re going to do this,” Kieran says quietly, “do it properly.”
Darian’s hand cups the back of Kieran’s neck. Pulls him in.
They kiss.
It’s slow at first. Exploratory. Two men who have circled each other for years finally colliding.
Kieran’s hand comes up to cup Darian’s jaw. Darian’s fingers tangle in Kieran’s dark hair. The kiss deepens. Darian makes a sound — surprised, hungry — and Kieran swallows it.
“Fuck,” Finn breathes beside me. “That’s… fuck.”
I can’t speak. I’m too busy watching.
The Light and the Dragon. Darian’s golden glow starting to leak from his skin, mixing with Kieran’s ancient fire. They’re beautiful together. Unexpected. Right.
Kieran pulls back first. His breathing is unsteady. For the first time in maybe ever, he looks shaken.
“Well,” he manages. “That was…”
“Yeah.” Darian grins. Cocky. Delighted. “Want to do it again?”
“Yes.”
They crash back together. Harder this time. Kieran’s control finally cracking. Darian’s confidence meeting it head-on.
Malrik’s hand finds the back of my neck. Squeezes.
“Enjoying the show, Nightshade?”
“You have no idea.”
“Oh, I have some idea.” His other hand slides between my thighs. Finds me soaking. “You’re drenched. Just from watching them.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Not even slightly.” He pushes two fingers inside me. I gasp. “Keep watching. This is just the beginning.”
Torric breaks first.
“Alright,” he growls. “I’ve been patient. I’m done.”
He crosses the room in three strides, pulls me off the couch, and throws me over his shoulder.
“Torric!”
“Bedroom. Now. All of you.”
“Was that an order?” Finn asks, amused.
“Yes.”
“Hot.”
Torric carries me through the house while the others follow. I catch glimpses upside-down — Kieran and Darian still tangled together, Finn tugging Malrik by the hand, Aspen bringing up the rear with a small smirk.
The bedroom is massive. Has to be. The bed takes up most of the space — a custom creation of Aspen’s design, big enough for seven people to sprawl without anyone falling off.
We’ve tested it thoroughly.
Torric dumps me on the mattress. Crawls over me. His golden eyes are blazing.
“My turn,” he says.
“What about—”
“They can watch. Or join. But I’m going first.”
He shoves his pants down and I catch a glimpse — thick and blunt and flushed angry red, radiating heat. He’s not the longest, but gods, the girth. Every time feels like the first time with him.
He doesn’t wait for an answer. Just pushes my thighs apart and buries himself inside me in one brutal thrust.
“Fuck—” The word tears out of me. The heat of him is unreal. Not just warm — hot. Like his fire lives in every part of him, including this. I feel him everywhere, stretching me open, burning in the best way.
“That’s it.” Torric pulls out. Slams back in. “Take it. Take all of it.”
His pace is punishing. No buildup. No teasing. Just raw, desperate need.
Behind us, I hear the others settling. The creak of the bed. The rustle of clothing being removed. Finn’s breathless laugh. Malrik’s low murmur.
“Torric.” Malrik’s voice cuts through. “Slow down. Let the others get situated.”
“Fuck that.”
“Torric.”
A growl. But Torric’s rhythm slows. Marginally. Enough that I can think again.
“Better.” Malrik appears in my field of vision. Naked now. Beautiful. “Kaia. Color?”
“Green.” I manage. “So green. Please don’t stop.”