32. Kirin
Kirin
Nine days after Evan’s birthday, Rose finally got her medical clearance to play again. The way she bounced around the apartment when the approval email came through, anyone would’ve thought she’d won the lottery.
It wasn’t solely the chance to get back on the field—it was another step toward normal. For the last two weeks she’d been clawing her way toward it: training, resting, repeating.
Her sleep still came unevenly, full of restless stretches and the occasional nightmare that yanked her awake without warning.
But he was always there, and she was getting better at grounding herself, better at breathing through it.
Therapy helped. She’d returned to weekly sessions, something she admitted to him in a shaky whisper the night before her first appointment back.
The sessions left her quiet afterward, but lighter too.
The training facilities had become their second home over the last week and a half.
What began as light movement turned into full conditioning gauntlets under the sharp eye of Cyd, who checked and rechecked her progress daily.
Her meal plan was on track, her energy was returning, and the dark circles that had carved under her eyes were fading.
Kirin was enjoying seeing her return not only to her former self, but to a healthier version of it.
Healthier than he’d ever seen her since exhaustion no longer clung to her constantly.
And a large part of that came from her team.
The shift had been subtle but powerful. Practices that used to drain her had her coming home with a smile.
He’d seen her teammates watching her back, dropping by to check in on her, small touches on her shoulder.
Laurel had become a regular fixture at the apartment, whether or not he was there.
Still, the pressure lingered. The legal calls, the case updates, the reminders that her trauma had a paper trail—all of it tugged at her focus. There were moments when she went distant, her thumb tracing circles on her wrist brace, her jaw tight as she listened to another voicemail from her lawyer.
Kirin didn’t know what to do during those moments.
He’d learned not to press—just to be there.
Sometimes that meant sitting on the couch beside her in silence until she finally leaned into him.
On other nights, it meant coaxing her outside, forcing air into lungs that were deprived while she spiraled.
He’d never been good at feeling helpless, but this wasn’t about him.
She didn’t need saving—she needed space, consistency, and quiet.
And as much as it broke him to see the strain flicker across her face, there was strength in her too, blooming with every practice, and every night she slept through till morning.
Her first game was that evening. She’d been vibrating with nerves and anticipation all morning, barely able to sit still long enough to eat. Watching her pull her duffel over her shoulder, Kirin felt something settle in his chest. She was still healing, still fighting—but she was back.
And that, more than anything, felt like a victory when Kirin rolled over in her bed just like he had every day for the past five weeks.
His body sensed where she was half buried in the blankets.
The curve of her hip was just visible above the scrunched duvet she’d kicked off.
The dark green compression socks were a stark contrast to her white linens.
He hummed his appreciation when he followed the warm expanse of skin to the dip of her waist.
Watching through half-lidded eyes, he pulled back the sheet to reveal more of Rose’s bare skin as he rolled closer and she blinked up at him in the low light of her room.
She was so damn beautiful, and he breathed a little easier every day as the bruises faded more and more.
She reached up, the cloth wrist supports another reminder of how much she’d healed, as she ran her fingers through his hair, curling them into the longer lengths at the back of his head as she pulled him to her.
“Good morning, handsome,” she said against his lips, and he sighed into her, tilting his head to take more of her mouth.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured against her mouth as she smiled, tugging him closer. He went willingly, eager to climb over her. He shoved the sheets out of the way until he could drop into the cradle of her thighs.
Holding himself over her, he felt her hand drag down his side, brushing the defined cut in his muscles until she reached where they pressed into one another. His reaction to her was getting more obvious every second, and he sucked in a breath.
“You shouldn’t feel this good,” he whispered as she slid her hand between them, pressing her palm against the bulge through his briefs.
“It could feel better,” Rose breathed as she watched him from under her lashes, her lips parting as she gripped him.
“Rose,” he warned through a groan. At her smirk, he once again found himself completely lost with this woman. She was gorgeous, her eyes clearer than they’d been the last few days. Instead of pain, they were full to the brim with lust. “You should save your energy for your game.”
“I’m so wound up, I need a release or I’ll be a mess on the pitch.” She wrapped her arm around his neck and tugged his mouth down. Her next words were a plea and a prayer against his lips. “Please, baby.”
Kirin pulled back and looked over her face.
The flash of her teeth when she licked and bit her lower lip had his body coiling.
His shoulders tightened, hands balled into fists beside her head when she rubbed along the length again, the thin barrier of his briefs only adding to the friction as she got familiar with the size of him.
Instead of commenting, because he wasn’t sure if words would come out or just grunts, he nodded and leaned down to drag his nose along the length of her neck, pressing his face into the mass of hair beneath her head.
He shuddered when she pulled him out of his briefs.
A quiet groan slipped from between his clenched teeth as he tried to stay still.
He could feel her grin, her cheek pressing into his neck and shoulder when her fingers curled around him.
She stroked him, and he leaned forward, giving her more of his weight.
His hands opened for a second to grip the pillow, his forehead landing on her bare shoulder as he let out a strangled moan.
“Flower.”
“Daddy?” she purred back, and he huffed out a desperate, tight laugh.
“Can we—” He licked his lips, steadying his breath. They’d fooled around plenty over the last week. By her own admission, he was her favorite type of stress relief, but this felt different, and he couldn’t seem to find the words.
She waited, and he let out another breath as she stroked him again, his body rocking of its own accord into her hand, seeking more contact. “Please tell me I can—”
“Yes.” She barely got it out before he adjusted, his hand opening and curving around the top of her thigh, pulling her into his body as she reached for her side table and lifted the foil packet between them.
“In due time, Flower,” he assured her, plucking it from her fingers and placing it back on her bedside table. “I have other work to do.”
He watched as her eyes darkened, her pupils blown wide enough that a thin amber halo surrounded them. “I have to be at the training center in”—she craned her neck toward the clock on her bedside table—“two hours.”
“We’ll need to shower to get the knots out.” He nodded toward her head, and she reached up to feel the mess of hair spilling itself across her pillow.
“Worth it.” She grinned and tugged him down over her, kissing him hard and biting at his lower lip as Kirin secured her thigh around his hip.
He reached beneath her, pressing his hand against the wings on her back to arch her body into his.
He’d gotten his first proper look at them weeks ago.
So, he could probably draw them from memory now.
They were truly gorgeous, a mix of detailed feathers and others crafted from scrawled quotes and song lyrics.
Kirin tilted her head to the side until he could press his lips against the tender spot beneath her jaw and take a deep breath of her.
She smelled sweeter in the mornings, more potent and intoxicating.
He placed open-mouthed kisses along the skin, licking down her neck as she bowed into him and gave him more access.
She raked her fingers through his hair as he devoured her one mouthful at a time, working his way down her body.
And he found out just how much her bedroom echoed when he started using his fingers.
He pumped them in and out of her, his moans vibrating through his chest as he tugged on her nipples with his teeth, sucking them into stiff points before he started curling his fingers.
It didn’t take long before she was begging him between breathy moans and chanting his name.
He brought her to the edge twice, backing off as a playful punishment while she bemoaned her disapproval. Somewhere in the midst, his arm curled around her thighs, pinning her down when she got a little too excited.
Only when she curled a hand around the back of his head, holding him firmly in place, his name falling from her mouth between a breathy “yes, right there” or hissed “oh fuck,” did he shove her over the edge.
The high of her in his mouth when he sucked her off his fingers left him wanting more.
The sleepiness burned off as he tucked his knees under himself so he could look her over.
His kisses and her own gnawing had wrecked her, swelling her lips.
The hair across her pillow was a mess from her thrashing; her skin was pink around her breasts and sternum where he’d sucked on her skin.
He watched her relax into the bed. The blankets cradled her like a cocoon.
Her chest heaved as she caught her breath.
He nuzzled along her hip, then under her breast for a few minutes, kissing her as she came down.
That stopped when she grabbed the condom from her bedside table and narrowly missed kicking him in the face when she rolled over.
He blinked at her for a second until she was pushing him down, a muttered order of “on your back” combined with shoving him until he got the point and laid on his back.
It was almost aggressive the way she grabbed his briefs and tugged, drawing a deep laugh out of him when she growled “off” because she couldn’t get them past his knees.
He shucked the briefs off and dropped them over the side of the bed.
She paused long enough to look him over, sucking on her lower lip as her eyes took their sweet time moving from his thighs up to his face. She smiled down at him when she swung her leg over his hips, settling her slick center over the part of him that was most obvious about his need for her.
“Fuck.” He gritted it out as she tilted her hips, clearly enjoying the feel when she shuddered. Her hands landed on his chest with gentle slaps when she moaned. His gaze traveled over her, slow and deliberate, until he stopped at the way he was nudging against her sensitive warmth.
The brief touches to her clit had her shuddering over him with light hisses, and he couldn’t help it.
He closed his hands around her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass.
He held her up and away from him for a second until their eyes met.
When she grinned down at him again, he fell for her all over again.
Her hair was a damn rat’s nest, but she was glowing, her smile bright and wide while she tore the foil package open with her teeth.
Holding back had him shaking under her when he helped her roll it down his length.
Her hand lingered while he attempted to keep himself still, his mind emptying of everything but desire, want, and pure lust. She pressed her hand over his chest, pressing down and using the leverage to brush her lips over his.
“Take a breath.” Her voice was little more than a breath in his ear. “I got you, Daddy.”
Kirin let out his second strangled laugh. The slight movement let her slip back over him and must have hit her just right, because her breathing stuttered. They both let out low groans.
“Why are you so damn perfect?” he ground out as she leaned forward, using her forearm on his pecs as she rocked enough to let his tip dip in and out of her opening. It was maddening as she started working him in with slow movements.
“I could ask the same,” she breathed, her hands opening and closing to grip his skin as she got closer to having him fully inside her.
They moved together, each sucking in breaths. Kirin whispered his praises, murmuring how good she was, how well she was doing in a mindless, helpless way that he couldn’t seem to stop. He’d dreamed of this, of the feel of her and the image of her finding her own pleasure from him.
His body arched at the tight heat of her when she started clenching.
She shoved her hand down on his hips to remind him to stay still.
She was still working to get herself close, grinding her clit against him as she pulsed, but he wasn’t sure if he’d last long enough to let her get there.
Little stars danced in his vision. She looked like a goddess above him, but she wasn’t breathing.
“Breathe, baby.” He forced himself to take a breath with her, pressing his hands along the length of her thighs to soothe her and help balance her as she kept her still braced arm pressed against her chest between her bouncing breasts, clear of any further injury.
Rose’s eyes were hazy, her blinking more rapid as he continued to press into her thighs, dragging his palms along the warm skin until her breathing evened out, her body relaxing.
Kirin groaned as she ground down on him.
Her circling hips had his stomach quivering with the strain to avoid moving until she gave him permission.
But the second the guttural moan clawed its way out of her, his control snapped. Her fingers curled into his pec, and there were no more coherent words after that.