Warning: Mature content in the chapter

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Evaline:

Kieran kissed me like he had been starving for this… for me.

And stars, I was starving too.

Ever since Draven's incident, I hadn't kissed any of them... not like this. There had been no intimacy. No letting myself sink into the warmth of someone else's body. Just hugs. Cuddles. Their constant, gentle presence always wrapping around me like a promise.

But this...

this kiss...

lit me up like my body had been cold for weeks and he was the first spark that dared to touch me.

A moan slipped out of me the moment his mouth pressed harder against mine. I felt him jerk slightly at the sound, as if it slipped under his skin and did something to him. My arms snaked around his neck before I could think, pulling him closer, dragging him deeper into the kiss he had started but was nowhere near ready to end.

His mouth left mine only for a heartbeat...

just long enough for me to gasp...

before he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat.

"Oh-Kieran…" I whispered, arching helplessly as his lips brushed over that sensitive spot beneath my jaw.

He made a low sound - like a half-growl, half-groan - and it vibrated straight into my bones.

My top's thin straps left most of my shoulders bare, and he took full advantage of that. His lips dragged slowly across my collarbone, soft then suddenly hungry, kissing, tasting, breathing me in like he needed this more than air. And when his mouth closed around the bare skin of my shoulder, warm and wet and hot enough to melt me from the inside out... I swear my heart tripped in my chest.

I felt alive.

Too alive.

Like my body had been dormant and he was the first one to touch the switch.

He returned to my lips with a sound that felt like surrender and possession tangled together. The kiss was even harder this time, deeper, his tongue slipping past my parted lips with a hunger that stole every coherent thought out of my head.

I kissed him back just as fiercely, my fingers tightening in his hair, my thighs clenching around nothing as his hand slid down my waist in a way that made me tremble.

I couldn't think.

Couldn't breathe.

Couldn't want anything but him.

His hands were everywhere - over my waist, my ribs, my hips, drifting higher, then lower, and each touch was deliberate, slow, maddening. Like he wanted to rediscover every part of me he had been denied for too long.

The kiss deepened again, and again, and again...

until I was dizzy

until my body was burning

until my breath broke into whimpers he swallowed greedily.

Just when I was on the verge of losing myself... truly losing myself... letting everything else fall away so there was only his mouth and his hands and this heat making me feel alive again...

He suddenly pulled back.

My mind lagged behind, still humming with the taste of him.

He sat upright, breathing hard, chest rising and falling like he had been running. His eyes… Stars. That look alone could have unraveled me.

All I saw was...

Hunger.

Restraint.

A heat so sharp it made my skin tighten.

"What-?" I whispered, blinking, confused.

His jaw flexed. "I'm sorry, love. You said you wanted to rest. I shouldn't… I shouldn't be doing this to you when you are tired."

I stared at him.

Then blinked.

Then stared again.

This stupid, noble, too-understanding man...

Before he could finish his unnecessary self-denying apology, I moved, sitting up myself.

I didn't even give him time to realize what I was doing.

I swung a leg over him and straddled him, grabbing the collar of his shirt with both hands and yanking him closer until our noses almost touched.

"Kieran," I said slowly, clearly, "shut up."

His breath hitched.

And then I kissed him.

Hard.

Deep.

Hungry.

Like I had wanted him every day since the night he promised to mark me the moment exams would be over.

For a second or two, he froze... too stunned, his breath caught.

Then his hands snapped to my waist, pulling me flush against him as he kissed me back with zero hesitation. And the moment he did, I knew... he wouldn't be stopping again.

We were past that point.

Way past.

We didn't have patience for foreplay.

Not right now.

Not with weeks worth of want tightening every inch of our bodies.

He lifted my top and I unbuttoned his shirt - our clothes discarded wherever they fell, neither of us caring. Our mouths remained glued together, breath mixing, hands roaming with a desperation that had been dormant too long.

He kissed me for a long time - slow, deep, teasing, then suddenly rougher, needier.

His lips trailing down my body, over my skin, leaving heat everywhere he touched. My back arched, my breath coming in broken, helpless sounds I couldn't swallow.

I lay gasping on the thick rug beside the couch, with my skin flushed and pulse racing so hard it echoed in my ears. He hovered over me for a moment... just looking.

My chest rose and fell.

His eyes moved over every inch of me with a reverence so intense it almost stole the air from my lungs.

He leaned down and kissed me again - slow this time, devastatingly slow - like he wanted to memorize my mouth before anything else.

Then he pulled back, completely.

For a moment, I thought he had changed his mind again when he stood up and moved toward the bed. But then I saw him opening the drawer of the bedside table and pulling out a couple of condom packets.

I swallowed when his eyes met mine - darker than usual, focused, hungry.

He returned to me immediately, dropping down onto the rug. His body was warm and solid above mine.

There's no bed.

No distance.

No hesitation.

Just the two of us, tangled on the rug, breathing hard as he hovered over me again, kissing me like he just couldn't get enough.

And the moment his lips met mine again…

I pulled him down fully, needing every inch of him against me.

Needing him.

And he gave me exactly that.