Kasien （Present）
Kasien
Present
She says she wants to drive. Like she hasn’t already been driving me insane for almost two weeks.
I should’ve said no. I should’ve told her to get on the back, stay still, stay quiet. But she looked at me with that same stubborn spark that used to burn me alive, and before I knew it, I was smiling like an idiot.
I keep telling myself it’s control that keeps me alive. Discipline, distance, logic. But when she’s near, every line I’ve drawn starts to blur.
I’m not drowning anymore. I let it invade me. I’m deep underwater.
“Let’s get somewhere safer,” I say as I grab her in my arms and put her on the back of the bike. I get on and she immediately circles her hands around me, her legs gripping my body.
Her touch feels so familiar. Every time she’s this close, my mind finally goes blank, the wheels stop turning.
We ride through the city, picking up speed on the highway, the lights turning into a blur. She feels so fragile, holding on to me. I feel like if I hit the speed limit she’s going to fly away.
I take a turn from the highway down to the coast right behind the city. Everything fades into darkness as we descend the dirt road toward the beach. We stop on the empty, quiet path, hearing the wild September waves and the wind bending the trees that line the way we came.
My head instantly replays all the times we used to come here and it feels like the six years never happened.
I feel like it was yesterday when we were hiding here for the first time, in my car. Fucking around the whole night, chasing every first we could find together.
For a moment, I’m eighteen, I’m not a murderer yet, and I have a perfect plan to have a happy life far away from here with the girl I’m obsessed with.
Kiara’s body climbing down from the bike takes me out of my thoughts. She stands beside me, slowly taking my visor up to look at me.
“Get down, big boy, and give it to mama,” she says, trying to summon some badass tone.
I burst into laughter.
“No way, come here.”
I scooch backward and pat the spot between my legs. She doesn’t argue with me and lets me take her under her armpits and put her down in front of me. Her lap is so close to mine that I have to squeeze my eyes shut for a moment to fight the blood running through my groin.
She probably saw that in the rearview mirror. Fuck.
Her hands are small against mine, unsteady when I cover them to guide her fingers. Her scent seeps under my skin—the same scent that once lingered on my shirts for days and covered the back seat of my car.
I hear her nervous laugh, muffled but too close, too familiar. And suddenly I know I’m fucked. We shouldn’t even be here.
I glance at the reflection of her eyes in the mirror—wide and alive. For a second, I almost forget what this night really is.
Not a date. Not a reunion.
And yet I’m deep under.
Her fingers hover over the controls, hesitant, waiting for me to tell her what to do.
“Alright,” I mutter. “Right hand—throttle. Twist slowly.” I guide her hand with mine, our fingers brushing.
“Like this?” she asks, voice barely a whisper.
“Yeah. Don’t fight it. Feel it move with you.”
Her body shifts, pressing back against my chest as she experiments with the throttle. The bike purrs and I cover her other hand next.
“Left side. This one shifts. Tap up to go faster, down to slow the engine. Easy.”
She turns her head slightly, her helmet bumping mine.
“So, what you’re saying is that this beast is idiot-proof?”
I huff a quiet laugh. “Almost. But I think you’ll still find a way to test that theory.”
She smiles. I can hear it more than I can see it.
“Okay. Twist, shift, no dying. Got it,” she says boldly.
“Don’t get cocky.”
I keep my hands on hers for safety but I don’t guide her anymore.
Our chests sync and we just breathe together, our fingers laced on the controls. She tries to twist and slowly take off, but she twists too much and hits the brake right away, so the bike just jolts for a moment, and her gasp in my helmet sends me straight to hell.
If she gasps like that once more, I’m fucking her right here.
“Squeeze it. Don’t slam it. You’re in control. Not fighting it,” I explain quietly.
“Like with you?” she mutters with a cocky attitude and turns her head to face mine, both our visors up, our eyes frozen in each other’s stare.
Fuck.
That’s it. She knows what she’s doing to me.
I stop the engine and kick the stand down as I take my hands away from hers and grab her throat, squeezing her body to mine.
“You wish.”
She gasps when my hand tightens around her throat, and I have to shut my eyes, letting the rush of it roll through me.
Her breathing turns uneven, her pulse wild against my skin. My other hand slips under her dress, gripping the black tights at her thigh and yanking them down.
The rip of nylon cuts through the air, swallowed by the broken sound that leaves her. I tear the fabric away, her heels slipping off her feet and falling on the ground.
Having her like this—bare, vulnerable, on my bike—fuck.
My hand stays under her dress, sliding higher, steadying her as I lift her just enough to pull her closer, until she’s almost in my lap and I have some space around her pussy.
“You open your mouth like that again, and I swear, I won’t stop until I break you,” I murmur as I slide my hand into her underwear and guide my fingers through her clit.
She’s so wet. I want to eat her alive and then spit her juices right in her mouth. Fuck.
My middle finger drives into her and she collapses backward, falling into my chest. Her moans become so heavy and fast that I think my dick is going to rip my pants in half.
She’s soaked. I want her dripping all over my bike, then watch her lick it all off before I shove my dick into her throat, choking her with cum.
Jesus Christ. Calm down.
I add another finger instead.
“Kasien,” she breathes out, moaning so nicely it echoes through the empty beach.
“What was it?” I tease as I pick up the pace inside her. “Do you want me to stop?” I barely whisper, unable to catch my breath.
I curl my fingers inside her, hitting that spot as I let go of her throat, driving my other hand down to her clit and gently circling around it, just how she likes it.
“No, please, God,” she cries out.
She’s fucking amazing.
She’s not from this world.
Her hips are rocking to meet my fingers, her body entirely in my hold. Fucking hell.
She drags her hand behind, guiding her fingers around my neck to hold on to me.
“That’s it. Ride my fingers, Kiara,” I whisper as her body arches, starting to quiver before her breathing stops and her inner walls clench, the feel of her pussy shuddering around my fingers sending me to another world.
“Good. You fall apart so beautifully for me.”
Her beautiful moans echo in my helmet, sinking deep into my memory.
I give her just enough time to breathe before my hand slides to the back of her neck, guiding her forward. She lowers against the controls, her body yielding easily, leaving her exactly where I want her.
I’m taking her right here.
I reach for my belt to take out my aching dick.
“No, Kasien,” she breathes out and I freeze.
What?
She takes off her helmet, throwing it on the ground and sliding off the bike, then gets back on, this time facing me. She shuffles so her legs rest on my thighs and grabs my helmet too, taking it off slowly.
I’m frozen, staring at her. Her hair is all messed up, falling around us. She looks unholy. My little fox.
“I want you to look at me,” she says quietly.
No, don’t do this to me. Let’s not make it too hard to stop.
She grabs the hem of her dress and pulls it up, the fabric sliding over her skin before slipping past her shoulders and head in one smooth motion, revealing her white lingerie.
The white lace is carved into her olive skin in a mesmerizing imprint.
She lets the dress fall to the ground and looks at me when I realize there is pain coiling with fear in her eyes.
My brows knit.
She opens my belt and undoes the zipper, taking my cock in her hands. I need her riding me, right fucking now.
I grab her in my hands and sit her slowly down on my lap, she slips her hand there and puts the lace of her panties to the side, then guides my tip into her entrance before sitting all the way down.
She lets out a painful gasp and her head falls onto my shoulder as I stretch her open. She’s so tight it nearly unravels me on the spot.
Six years of wanting this.
Six years of looking for this in different bodies, looking for her eyes in empty faces that didn’t give me anything.
I let her slowly adapt to me, moving her hips just a bit, holding her to me as closely as possible. I don’t ever want to let go. Her moans fill my ears again and I finally feel her relaxed enough so I grab her ass, moving my hips into her more, little by little.
She suddenly lifts her head and faces me as she puts her palms on my cheeks, staring into my eyes, breathing so heavy she struggles to get the words out.
“Kiss me,” she whispers and I freeze my movement.
No, please don’t. Don’t do this.
“Please, Kasien. Please,” she begs quietly, with a hint of pain in her voice.
Please don’t do this.
I’ll never get over this again.
“Kiss me,” she begs more and this time her eyes water and her chin trembles as her fingers linger on my skin.
Then two tears spill out, sliding down her cheeks.
Fuck.
My gaze falls to her lips—parted and trembling, the air between us too charged to breathe.
I should pull back, but she’s looking at me like I’m the only thing left holding her together. My thumb brushes the corner of her mouth, and the second our lips touch, the world stops.
It’s not gentle. It’s not patient. It’s six years of everything unsaid—regret, anger, longing—burning all at once. She gasps into me, and I swear I feel her heartbeat slip right into my chest.