Chapter 11 Bastian #2
Her skin was hot beneath my touch, slick from the steam, and every sigh she made scorched itself into my memory.
She arched into me like she couldn’t get close enough, and I felt the sharp press of her nipples against my chest. My cock throbbed against her belly, hard and ready, and she gasped softly when she felt it.
The way she looked up at me then—wet lashes clinging together, lips swollen, pupils wide and blown with hunger—fucking broke me.
There was no space left for doubt. No room for restraint.
Only her.
Only us.
Her lips brushed mine one last time before she pulled back, breath shallow. Her hand pressed to my chest, firm and commanding as she pushed.
And fuck, the show of her control unraveled me even more than her kiss had.
She stepped out of the shower without a word and I watched her go unashamedly.
Her hair clung to her shoulders in heavy golden waves, water dripping down the curve of her spine, trailing across the swell of her breasts and belly.
Each droplet shimmered as it slid over her bare skin, catching in the soft flicker of light from the bedroom.
She didn’t look back as she walked, and Creator help me, I followed.
Each step she took toward the bed felt like gravity shifted in her favor, dragging me in. There wasn’t a trace of hesitation in her posture, only a quiet, devastating authority that owned me completely.
She turned at the edge of the bed, eyes finding mine as I stopped in front of her, naked, dripping, and so fucking hard I couldn’t think straight.
“Be a good boy,” she said softly, voice laced with heat and authority. “Get on the bed.”
The words hit me like lightning, scorching down my spine and into my bones.
I moved without question, climbing onto the mattress.
I settled back on my elbows, every nerve on fire as I watched her approach.
She prowled forward like a queen taking stock of what was already hers.
Her gaze dragged down my body, slow and hungry, until I felt stripped bare in a way that had nothing to do with being naked.
My throat bobbed with a sharp swallow as she crawled up onto the mattress after me.
I was hers, and I suddenly realized that was all I’d ever fucking wanted.
She straddled my thighs without warning, soaking wet and utterly divine, her knees bracketing my hips as she settled just close enough for heat to flare between us, but not close enough for relief.
I reached for her hips, desperate for something. Anything.
She slapped my hands away with a soft smirk.
“No touching,” she said sweetly, dragging her wet hair over one shoulder. Water beaded along her collarbones, trailing down the curves of her breasts and gliding lower, disappearing between her legs where I ached to be buried.
“Kieran…” I groaned, my voice already hoarse, breath scraping in my throat.
She leaned forward, slow and deliberate, until her lips brushed the shell of my ear. Her damp hands flattened to my chest, guiding me to lie back fully.
“You’re going to be good,” she whispered sinfully, “and let me take care of you. You can do that, can’t you, Bash?”
My eyes fluttered closed, and I barely managed to nod. “Yes,” I rasped.
“Good boy.”
Her praise ripped a sound from my throat I didn’t recognize—half-agony, half-prayer.
She started slowly, just barely touching.
Ghosting her fingertips down my chest, following the rivulets of water still sliding from my hair and skin.
She traced my abs, circled my hips, skimmed my thighs.
Never once where I needed her. Always just close enough to make my cock twitch and throb, angry and leaking against my stomach.
I bucked my hips, a silent plea.
She stilled, dragging her nails down my thigh in a featherlight scrape.
“Patience, Bastian.”
I bit down on a moan, my hands fisting in the sheets beside me.
Then her mouth joined the torment. Wet kisses traced a path down my chest, over my ribs. Her tongue flicked at the dip of my navel. Her teeth scraped lightly over the sharp bones of my hips, and I twitched beneath her.
I was shaking by the time she finally gripped me at the base.
“You’re so hard for me,” she murmured, wrapping her wet palm around my cock and stroking so slowly I nearly begged for mercy. “Is this all for me?”
“Yes,” I choked out as my eyes opened, drinking her in. “Creator, yes. All for you, always.”
She slowly rose, one hand wrapped around me as she lined me up with the slick heat between her thighs.
My hips jerked at the first brush, breath stalling in my lungs.
Inch by inch, she took me into her—tight, wet, and impossibly warm—and my whole body arched beneath her like it couldn’t resist. I groaned like it had been torn from my soul, fingers clutching the sheets until the fabric bit into my skin.
She gasped softly, her hands flattening over my chest as she settled fully, taking every inch of me.
“Such a good boy,” she whispered, and there was no teasing in it now.
Her praise wrecked me.
No one had ever touched me like this. No one had ever wanted me like this—not as an experiment, not as a weapon, not as a monster to be managed or feared.
Only her, and she wanted every broken piece.
I stared up at her, vision blurred with emotion I didn’t have the words for, and whispered hoarsely, “Is this what love is supposed to feel like?”
The heat between us didn’t vanish, but it changed, shifting into something slower and softer. Her hands smoothed over my chest, reverent and sure, and she leaned forward until her forehead rested against mine. The scent of her wrapped around me like a blanket.
Her voice was a breath against my lips. “This is what it feels like to be loved. To be wanted. To be cherished.”
I couldn’t breathe. Not because I was overwhelmed, though I was. Not because her body was wrapped around mine, though it was. But because no one had ever said those words to me before. Not like that. Not with that kind of fierce, unshakable certainty.
“I’ll never give you up,” she whispered. “Never.”
My hands trembled where they held the sheets, aching to touch her but afraid to break the spell.
Then she moved. Her hips tilted and sank, the rhythm gentle as her body rolled over mine in a cadence that felt like worship. Like a promise.
Every glide of her slick heat over my cock, every drag and roll of her hips made my whole body burn with the kind of pleasure that wasn’t just physical. It was knowing I was hers. Knowing she chose me.
My hands, once tentative, found her skin with a hunger. I dragged my palms up her thighs, over the curve of her hips, and then higher, until I found the weight of her breasts.
She moaned when I cupped them, and the sound unraveled me.
My thumbs brushed over her nipples, slow at first, then with more intent when she arched into my touch. Her moan was soft and broken and I wanted to hear it again and again.
I rolled her nipples between my fingers, loving the way she trembled above me, her rhythm faltering for just a moment as pleasure flared through her. Her head dropped back, mouth parted in a soundless breath.
“Fuck,” I rasped, hips thrusting up to meet her the next time she sank down.
She gasped, and her eyes snapped open to meet mine.
The sound of it, breathy and desperate, only pushed me further. I thrust again, slow but deeper this time, and her whole body shuddered around me.
“Like that?” I asked, voice thick and low as I did it again, matching the roll of her hips now, giving her the pressure she was chasing.
Her nails bit into my chest as she nodded, breathless. “Yes… Bastian, yes.”
I couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at the edge of my mouth as I thrust up again, and again, timing it with every descent of her body.
She was unraveling on top of me—because of me—and I felt it in every breath, every tightening pulse of her pussy around me.
“Fuck,” I groaned. “You feel so fucking good, Darling. I don’t think I’ll ever survive this.”
Her laugh broke through the haze, warm and wild and full of everything I never thought I’d deserve.
The wet slap of our bodies echoed in the quiet, the rhythm growing frantic as I matched each grind of her hips with a thrust of my own. Her moans wrapped around me like silk, soft and trembling.
My hands roamed everywhere—her hips, her waist, the slick skin of her ass—like I needed to memorize every curve. But it was her face I kept coming back to. Her flushed cheeks, lips parted in breathless pleasure, eyes heavy with heat and love.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
“Let go for me,” I whispered, my voice rough, nearly broken. “Please, Darling. I want to see you fall apart.”
Kieran’s breath hitched. She rocked harder, faster, her thighs beginning to tremble as she chased the edge of pleasure.
I could feel the way her body gripped mine tighter, slick and pulsing around my cock.
The friction, the heat, the way she started whispering my name like it was a sacred thing—I felt myself unraveling right there beneath her.
But I held on, just long enough. Long enough to reach between us, my fingers finding the bundle of nerves at her center, slick and swollen. I circled it once, twice, and she gasped, falling forward to brace herself on my chest as her body began to lock up around me.
That was all it took.
She came apart, beautiful and wild.
Head tossed back, mouth open in a cry that might’ve been a prayer, a curse, or my name—I didn’t know. The sight of her coming undone because of me ripped the orgasm from my body.
My spine bowed off the mattress as I buried myself deep with a broken groan, holding her hips still, needing to be as close as physically possible. My release spilled into her, and I cried out her name like it was the only word that had ever mattered.
We stayed like that, entwined with our breath mingling and our hearts still racing in tandem. Her body slowly relaxed on top of mine, her cheek pressed against my chest, where my heart was still thundering like it hadn’t quite caught up to what had just happened. What we had just become.
Kieran’s fingers traced lazy circles over my ribs, her skin still damp, her hair a wet curtain around us. I could feel the weight of her thoughts building in the silence.
She finally whispered against my skin, her words barely louder than our breath. “Promise me this is forever, Bastian.”
The words cracked my chest open to something tender and raw, terrifying in its truth.
Forever.
I’d never dared to dream that big. Never believed I was allowed to. But with her…it didn’t feel like a promise to fear. It felt like home.
My arms tightened around her, protective and sure, and I pressed a slow kiss to the top of her head, letting it linger there.
“I’m realizing,” I said softly, “that even forever doesn’t sound like long enough, Darling.”
She exhaled a shaky breath as she curled tighter into me, and I held her like she was my entire world.
Because she was.