Chapter 18 Nyx #3
He unzipped my jeans and dragged them to mid-thigh, the cold air shocking against my skin.
I felt myself pulse, an ache that climbed my spine and burrowed behind my eyes.
He found me through my panties, which were already soaked, a useless barrier.
When his fingers pressed in, I made a noise that didn’t belong in public.
He caught my mouth in his, kissing me deep and mean, swallowing every sound.
The Ferris Wheel lurched again, sending my body flush against his chest. I could feel him hard, dangerous, contained only by the zipper of his jeans.
He hooked a finger in my panties and pulled them aside.
His hand was all warmth and command, every move a promise: I know what you are, and I am going to make you admit it.
I came the first time with his fingers inside me; the aftershocks making my knees weak. I wanted to hide my face, but he wouldn’t let me. He made me look at him while he licked his fingers clean. “Good girl,” he said, a phrase that detonated inside my skull.
But it wasn’t enough. I was raw with need. The only thing worse than being seen was not being filled, and the only thing worse than not being filled was knowing I had to beg.
“Please,” I said, and meant it.
He grinned, feral. “What do you say?”
I was crying again, but it was a different crying, the kind that came with being cracked open. “Knot me,” I whispered.
Then I slid my hand up his neck, fingers brushing the pulse under his jaw, and guided his mouth where I wanted it. I tipped my head back, throat bared, every instinct in me screaming that this was the place you got killed. Meridian taught you that. Life taught you that.
But Kairo was not life. He was a choice. He was the only one who had earned this from me.
“Bite me,” I begged, voice wrecked and steady at the same time. “Right here. I want your mark on my throat.”
A bite was not just sex. It was a flag. It was a declaration to Meridian, to rivals, to anyone watching that I belonged to someone, and that someone was Kairo. It would make him mine too, so enemies could see.
“I trust you,” I said, and my omega purred. “Claim me.”
Kairo went still. Not hesitating, not retreating, but bracing. His eyes dragged over my face, then to my throat, and back again.
“You don’t get to take this back tomorrow,” he said, voice rough. “Not when the heat breaks and you think you were just desperate.”
I swallowed, my throat moving under his gaze, making the offer sharper.
“Say you’re choosing me,” he demanded, the words careful despite the edge. “Say it so I know I’m not taking advantage of you.”
“I’m choosing you,” I said, and it came out without a tremble. “I’m choosing you, Kairo. I want you to bite me. I want you to claim me.”
His exhale shuddered. “Good,” he murmured, and his mouth finally found my throat.
He unzipped, and his dick sprang free, flushed nearly purple with need.
I reached for it, greedy, but he pinned my wrists to my chest, holding me in place with one arm while the other guided me down.
He didn’t tease. He buried himself to the root in one thrust, and the world tilted.
The cab swung, carnival lights blurring into red and gold.
My muscles spasmed around him, desperate for the knot.
Kairo’s voice was ragged. “You gonna take it all, baby?”
“Yes, yes—” I could barely talk. Every inch of him was a challenge, a dare. The knot pressed at my entrance, swollen and merciless. “Please, Kairo—”
He fucked me slow, using my hips as leverage, every movement calculated to break me. I felt the knot pop inside, and I screamed, a raw, hungry sound that matched the echo of my body. The pain was delicious, made me feel alive, made me feel owned.
Kairo’s mouth found my throat, right where I’d offered it, and this time he did not hold back. His teeth sank in with a sharp, perfect sting that made my whole body seize, and then heat flooded the bite as he broke skin and sealed the claim.
I moaned. The scent that poured off him turned heavier, possessive, and my body clenched around the knot.
“Mine,” he breathed against my skin, voice wrecked. His tongue soothed the bite, slow and deliberate, as if he was telling my instincts to settle and listen.
The word lit something feral in me. I fisted my hand in his shirt, dragged him close, and found his throat with my mouth the way he’d found mine. I bit down hard enough to taste him, a quick flash of pain and iron that made his whole body jolt.
“Mine too,” I whispered, and it wasn’t heat talking. It was a choice.
I came again, wrung out and wrecked, body locked tight around him. He stroked my hair, his breath soft in my ear, holding me in place while the knot kept us joined and our marks cooled between us. The ride began its descent, and we moved in slow, infinite circles above the world.
We stayed like that until the wheel stopped, and the operator yelled up at us to get out.
Kairo tucked himself back in, helped me shimmy my jeans up over the evidence, and guided me down the ramp, his arm firm around my waist. His fingers slid up to my neck, and he angled my hair forward, covering the bite with a casualness that wasn’t casual at all.
The mark throbbed under my skin, hot and tender, and my scent felt different, louder.
Claimed didn’t just mean satisfied. It meant seen.
I was dizzy, half-laughing, half-shattered, but when I caught my reflection in the funhouse mirror, I saw the truth in my face: I was his, and everyone could tell.
He pulled me close, his lips warm at my ear. “Next date night, I’m gonna do it in the tunnel of love,” he said.
And I believed him.
Then Kairo’s phone vibrated once against my hip where he’d tucked it when he pulled me close. He glanced down, and I saw the shift in his eyes before he hid the screen.
His smile stayed easy when he looked back at me, but his hand tightened at my waist. “We’re leaving,” he said softly.
My omega perked, alert again. The night hadn’t changed, but the air had.