Chapter Ten #2
Kiera pants, pupils blown wide. “I will shoot you. I’m not a weak girl.” The gun stays trained on my chest, despite her heavy breathing— her hands stay perfectly steady.
Grabbing her wrist, I guide the gun up until the barrel rests against my temple.
“Keep it right here. Don’t move it.” I sink to my knees in front of her.
“There’s no denying it this time. If you don’t want this, if you change your mind—you pull that trigger, Thorn.
” I peel her leggings down and glance up.
There’s the slightest tremor in her hands now.
I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t make me nervous, but I need her to understand.
I need her. One look between her thighs tells me she skipped underwear, already glistening.
“Fuck,” I let out a low groan. “Look at you.” Sliding my fingers through the slick heat of her arousal, I start circling her clit before dipping lower, spreading the mess she’s already made. “You’re dripping for me.”
Her breath stutters as the muzzle nudges harder into my skin as her arm trembles. I glance up, holding her gaze while I suck her taste off my fingers. “Kiera, I need you to follow the rules, okay?” She nods, the gun staying exactly where I placed it. “Good girl.”
I lower my head and drag my tongue in one slow, taunting stroke over her clit.
Her thighs quiver around my ears, the muzzle digging in even harder.
I smile against her, lapping her up faster, lazy little flicks turning sharp and focused as I slide a finger inside her.
Kiera lets out a broken, breathy gasp, but she doesn’t move.
Good. I angle my head, following the line of her body.
Her eyes are glassy, lashes wet, pupils drowning out the color as she stares right back down at me, gun steady and hands trembling.
I slide back out, my knuckles coated with her sweet juices.
Pressing a second finger beside the first, she chokes on a quiet moan.
I set a brutal rhythm—tongue circling and lashing her clit while my fingers thrust in time, curling deep to grind against that perfect spot.
Her hips jerk, her moans rising a few octaves.
Her hands are shaking a little more, causing the metal to scrape my skin.
“Don’t you dare drop it,” I murmur against her, lips vibrating against her.
Then I fuck my fingers into her harder, faster.
She tightens around me, velvet and vicious, breaths coming in ragged little bursts.
Her whole body is starting to tremble, teetering on the edge, and I push her right over with a few more ruthless strokes.
She shatters with a strangled cry, her orgasm flooding my mouth.
I groan into her, licking and sucking her clit through it as she rides my face, milking every last twitch and aftershock until her legs start to give out and the gun finally wobbles.
Only then do I let up, pressing a soft kiss on her swollen clit before I pull away.
Rising to my feet, I tug her leggings back up her shaky thighs, slow enough for the seam to drag against her sensitive spot.
My hand closes around her wrist, guiding the gun from my head.
“You had all the control,” I tell her, voice low and rough.
“You didn’t shoot because, just like me, your soul answers when mine calls.
But let’s get one thing straight, Kiera—you are MINE.
Now that you know, I will not let you go. Understand?”
She sits up on the counter, staring at me.
She’s trying to fight herself and is losing.
I can hear her thoughts screaming. Finally, she nods, jaw tight.
“Then let’s get another thing straight,” she fires back.
“If I’m yours, you’re mine. I don’t share.
You don’t treat me like I’m disposable. I wasn’t weak before you, and I won’t be weak now. Understand?”
A dark laugh rumbles out of me as I step in, fisting a hand gently in her hair and pulling her close, placing a kiss to her forehead, “Understood, Thorn.”
A few hours later, we’re wrapping up practice, the scent of gunpowder still clinging to the air.
For someone so small, Kiera has pretty fucking good aim; every shot lands damn near exactly where she wants it.
She could have pulled that trigger on me at any point tonight, but she didn’t.
I watch her as she reloads, eyes stormy, shoulders drawn up tight like she’s bracing for impact.
She’s not just fighting me; she's at war with herself.
She thinks I stole her control. All I did was hand it to her in a different shape.
Kiera turns and faces me fully. “Sterling?” My name on her lips is soft, frayed at the edges, like she's not sure if she’s calling me out or calling for me. Her eyes search my face, that storm churning just beneath the surface.
“Yes?” Kiera’s mouth opens, then closes again, like the words hit a snag.
That uncertain, wrecked look on her face does something violent in my chest. In a blur of movement, she drops to her knees in front of me.
One second, she’s staring up at me, wide, pleading eyes.
The next second, her fingers are at my belt, working the buckle with a desperation that's all shaky breath and stubborn resolve. She has my jeans unbuttoned, zipper dragging down, and my cock in her hand before my brain fully catches up. I’m already hard, but the sight of her kneeling for me—after everything—makes me twitch in her grip.
Heat punches low in my gut. “Kiera, you don’t have to,” I grit out, hand hovering uselessly in the air, not sure whether to stop her or push deeper into her palm.
She looks up at me through her lashes, the same mix of defiance and need burning in her eyes, and I know damn well she’s about to show me exactly how much of this is her choice.
She whispers in a sultry tone, “I know.” One hand trails up my thigh, deliberate and unhurried, while the other wraps firmly around me, claiming instead of asking.
Her lips graze my swollen head, breath hot against my skin.
She’s setting the pace, and I’m going to take whatever she decides to give.
Kiera's tongue flicks out, swirling around my head in lazy torturous circles that almost make my knees buckle.
One hand inches higher on my thigh, nails digging in just enough to sting, while the other tightens around my shaft, stroking with unyielding pressure.
She takes me deeper, inch by inch, until I'm nudging the back of her throat, her muscles clenching around me like a vice.
Spit drips from the corner of her mouth.
“Fuckkkkk, Thorn,” I rasp, my voice breaking as pleasure coils tight.
She’s unraveling me, lick by filthy lick, and I can’t fight it right now.
She’s going to be the death of me. My hand instinctively threads through her ponytail around the base.
I push her head a little further down, cutting off her airway.
Kiera looks back up at me with a challenge in her eyes.
I buck my hips, trying to set a punishing pace, her free hand snaking its way up, cupping my balls.
She squeezes with a calculated force. A guttural moan rips from my throat, echoing off the walls in the dim room.
“You keep doing that, and I’ll be flooding your throat like a fucking teenager,” I warn, but my words come out desperate.
She squeezes them tighter as she rolls them.
She hums in challenge, sending vibrations around my cock, refusing to back down.
My thrust continues to snap against her throat, hips jerking as she bobs her head, taking everything I have to give.
Tears streak her face, mascara smudging, her eyes never wavering from me.
She gives one final, vice-like twist to my balls, and it shatters me.
I roar, body convulsing as I erupt, thick ropes of cum pulsing down her throat.
She swallows every drop, greedy and triumphant, her tongue lapping along my length to clean the remnants, savoring the evidence of her victory.
God damn, she’s perfect. In this moment, she’s the one who broke me, and fuck if it doesn’t make me crave her even more.
Kiera rises, her body uncoiling like a predator sated, tongue darting out to trace her swollen lips, savoring the salty remnants of my release.
Her eyes lock onto mine, dark and victorious, as she purrs, “Just so we're crystal clear.
I licked it, so it's mine now.” The words hang heavy, laced with possession that sends a shiver racing down my spine, her claim staking deeper than any thrust.
She turns, a smirk twisting her mouth into something wicked and untouchable, glancing back over her shoulder with a gleam that promises more torment, more surrender.
The door clicks shut behind her, leaving me rooted in place, cock still twitching in the cool air, a stupid, ragged grin splitting my face—like some twisted, fucked up, obsessed fool who's already lost the war and loving every brutal second of defeat.