Chapter 17
“Can’t believe you kissed me then went out drinking with another man,” Kieran says after vanishing into my room as I’m getting ready for breakfast.
“Good morning to you, too, Kieran,” I reply, trying not smile as I run the brush through my hair in front of the mirror.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” He stalks closer behind me and leans in to give me a brief kiss on the cheek. I lean into his touch. “Look at you and your beautiful hair—you must be kidding me. How am I ever going to get anything done?”
Ugh, so dramatic.
So affectionate.
I love it.
Gods, it’s hard for me to accept, but I want more of this.
Whatever this is.
“Hm, is this how we start our morning now?” I murmur, still not looking at him directly, because his reflection in the mirror is already too much. All sleepy smirk and bedroom eyes.
“It could be,” he says, voice amused as his fingers twirl the ends of my hair. “Unless your other man objects.”
“My other man is my friend.”
“Have you seen how he looks at you?” Kieran rolls his eyes. “That bastard Lucas clearly has a thing for you.”
“Oh, he does not.” I gently smack Kieran with the hairbrush. “We’ve known each other for ages.”
He hums like he doesn’t believe me. “So? I’ve known you for three weeks and still want to lick every inch of you every time I see you.”
“Gods.” I laugh, but Kieran catches the brush before I can smack him again. “You Fae are just way too horny.”
“Thank Gods we are.” He lets the brush drop and slides his arms around my waist instead, lips grazing the back of my neck. “I know we can come on a little strong, but I hope you know I’d never do anything you didn’t want.”
Hmm, it’s difficult to think about all the things I don’t want him to do when his lips are doing exactly what they are … I meet his eyes in the mirror, those wicked, storm-lit eyes—and breathe.
“The question is,” I murmur, turning in his arms and tracing my finger along the buttons of his shirt. “Will you do everything I want you to?”
Kieran pulls me to my feet in one smooth motion, bodies nearly touching, a breath between us.
“Anything,” he mutters, his voice low, dangerous.
I lick my lips, and his gaze drops to them—but just as he leans in and our mouths almost touch, I say sweetly, “Then tell me about the trials.”
Kieran groans, burying his face against my neck.
“Vicious.” He growls into my skin, teeth gently grazing the curve of it, wings tucked in tight dramatically. “Absolutely vicious little human.”
“That’s the rule,” I whisper into his ear, trailing my fingers along the sharp line of his jaw.
Kieran responds by sucking on the tender spot on my neck. I gasp—a sweet, startled moan slipping out before I can stop it.
He chuckles, low and wicked.
And he doesn’t stop.
“The rule is no sex unless I tell you about the trials,” Kieran whispers into my skin, one hand tracing down my spine, the other tightening around my waist as he slowly guides me back towards the bed. “Luckily for us, there’re plenty of things we can do without technically breaking it.”
Oh, Gods.
Loopholes.
I don’t know if I’m annoyed … or thrilled that there are loopholes in my one golden rule.
“Are you sure this won’t make it worse for you?” I ask, my voice a drop of sugar as the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. “Seeing me like this. Hearing me. And not being able to do more?”
Kieran just grins, dark and dangerous, his brow lifting like a challenge.
“Oh, it will either kill me,” he says, voice thick with dark promise, “or you’ll beg me to fuck you. And I swear to Gods, Little Star—when I do, I’ll take my sweetest time.”
His lips crash into mine—and the stars might as well detonate overhead, even in goddamn daylight.
My heart races, then my back hits the bed the next second.
And we’re all over each other.
All the hair-brushing was a complete waste—Kieran’s fingers are already tangled in it.
I wrap my arms around his neck, desperate to feel him on me, against me.
His other hand fists the fabric of my dress like he’s debating whether to pull it off, or rip it apart—whatever the hell is faster at this second.
The kiss deepens, hungry and reckless. Kieran gently nips at my lower lip, and I let out another moan—only for him to swallow the sound with another devouring kiss, harder this time, stealing the air from my lungs.
And I never knew I needed this kiss more than I needed to breathe until this very moment.
Gods, I really want more of this.
More of him.
Kieran pulls away, dragging his lips down my neck, licking it as he moves lower.
Heat coils in my chest, sharp and aching. I arch to his touch, silently begging for more.
Kieran growls low in his throat, slipping a hand beneath my dress, fingers gliding up my thigh, each inch he climbs setting my skin on fire.
My breath stutters as his fingers find the thin layer of fabric separating him from the pleasure I so painfully need to feel.
He waits, staring into my eyes like he’s looking for a quiet permission. Fire burns in his eyes, his kiss, his touch—and I am desperate for whatever it is he wants to give me.
“Touch me,” I whisper, pulling Kieran into another kiss. Then, breathless, eyes glazed with want, I beg, “Kieran … touch me.”
And that’s all it takes.
“Fuck.” Kieran growls, yanking the fabric aside the second he has that permission he was seeking. And I couldn’t care less where it lands.
He drags my hips to the edge of the bed, kneeling before me, then pushing my dress up to my stomach.
His hands tremble slightly, like he can’t get it done fast enough.
I brace on my elbows, face flushed, heart hammering like crazy.
Our eyes lock—and Kieran lowers his head to my core slowly, storm-lit eyes flaring like lighting before impact.
I watch as he kisses me, soft reverent … then his tongue flicks—finding that aching spot—and circles it, again, and again, harder.
I collapse on to the bed, breathless and burning. Kieran takes his time kissing, sucking, devouring me like a starved male—and I’m utterly undone. Moaning like it hurts, chasing every flick of his tongue, every graze of his teeth.
Then he slips a finger inside. One. Two. Three.
And that ruins me.
His mouth never falters, and his fingers thrust into me in a hard, punishing rhythm—until nothing exists but him. Until his name tears from my throat, louder and louder.
Mother of the stars.
I beg. I break.
I can’t deal with this.
I can’t have enough, either.
It’s too much.
He’s too much.
And when I finally shatter, it’s with a cry sharp enough to split the stars.
But Kieran doesn’t stop.
He keeps going—driving me past the edge again, and again—until I’m wrecked. Legs shaking. Breath lost. Words gone.
Kieran tastes every last drop of me like a reward he’s earned.
And it’s safe to say that he bloody has.
When he finally rises, there’s a wicked smile on his lips. Then he leans in and kisses me—deep—letting me taste myself on his tongue. I purr into the kiss, drunk on pleasure and still aching for more.
His hardness presses against my skin, and I grin.
Oh, Kieran.
“I could get used to that before breakfast,” I murmur.
He hums. “Before. After. With breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Every hour of the day—I’m there.”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling, lacing my fingers with his and pulling him onto the bed—then I flip us, crawling on top, pressing myself against him.
We melt into another hungry kiss. I trace my hand down his muscled body to the hardness straining beneath his trousers, heart pounding at the sheer size of him. Kieran groans into the kiss.
Then, I pull away slowly. “I’m late for breakfast.”
Kieran growls like I’ve just stabbed him in the heart.
“I will remember this,” he mutters, sitting up as I adjust my dress. “Mother of the stars, you’re so fucking hot.”
I smirk, picking up my underwear and tossing it beside him on the bed.
“You’re not going to put these on?” Kieran asks, breathless, clutching them like a lifeline.
I brush a thumb over those lips—lips that pleased me barely five minutes ago. “Easy access for later.”
That absolutely destroys him.
Kieran collapses back onto the bed, cursing at the ceiling.
I just laugh and walk out the door. “See you after breakfast, handsome.”
The autumn walk from my room down to the dining hall helps cool me from the … unexpected event that just happened. I’m the last one to arrive. I look at no one in particular as I slip into a seat beside Lucas.
“You look a little flushed,” he says, reaching out to feel my forehead. “Gods, you’re warm, too. Are you sick?”
Well, that’s—
Lovesick, probably.
“I just came back from a run.” If a run involves an orgasm or two.
I chug a glass of water like it’s holy.
Even that couldn’t cleanse me and Kieran of the things we’ve done. Or the filth we’re about to dive into next time we’re alone. Because trust me, I know that was just the beginning—my heart is throbbing in dread and excitement just thinking about it.
Gods, I need to stop thinking about him. I’m going to see him for work right after breakfast.
“Have you decided yet?” Lucas ask.
I tilt my head. “About?”
“The prize.” He arches a brow. “What will you pick?”
Between making out with Kieran, baring my soul to Lucas, and the rebellion talks—I haven’t even thought about it.
And then there’s the eclipsed coins. I only have the ones Kieran gave me the other day.
“Probably having magic for a day.”
That seems to be the most sensible choice. I don’t need money, or a fancy dinner. Definitely don’t need a Fae to sleep with—unless I want to make Kieran jealous.
I don’t know what I’d even do with magic. I doubt I’d be powerful enough to bring back Declan on my own. Still, I want to use it for something useful rather than just for fun, or just because I can.
Maybe I could enchant my weapons. Give myself an edge in the next trials.
I need to look into it properly.
“Gods, what a beautiful day.”