Page 46 of Hunting Harbor

I smile against her neck, tasting the salt of dried tears on her skin. "But you don't."

"No," she agrees, tilting her head to give me better access. "I don't know what I feel anymore."

My hands find the hem of her sweater, sliding underneath to touch the warm skin of her waist. She shivers but doesn't pull away. If anything, she leans into my touch, hungry for the connection despite everything, or perhaps because of it. Now that I've stripped everything else away from her, I'm all she has left. Her only constant in a world I've systematically dismantled.

There's power in that, yes, but also responsibility. I've destroyed her world; now I need to become her world.

I take my time undressing her, savouring each new expanse of skin revealed. Unlike our previous encounters, this isn't a frantic claiming. This is something deeper… a reconfiguration of our relationship. Harbor helps me remove my own clothes, her hands shaking slightly but determined.

When I finally enter her, it's with a slowness that borders on reverence. Her head falls back, eyes closing as she takes me in, a soft moan escaping her lips. I hold still for a moment, buried deep inside her, feeling her pulse around me. Connected. Claimed.

"Look at me," I command softly, and her eyes flutter open, meeting mine. "I want you to see who you're giving yourself to."

She doesn't look away as I begin to move within her, setting a rhythm that's deliberate and deep. Her legs wrap around my waist, drawing me closer, hands clutching at my shoulders as if I'm a lifeline in the storm I've created around her.

The forgotten dinner preparations surround us. Chopped vegetables scattered across the cutting board, the half-burnt potatoes in the pan I moved off the burner.

"Kai," she gasps, using the shortened version of my name that feels oddly intimate on her lips. Her body responds to mine with an honesty her mind might still be fighting, inner muscles tightening, back arching to take me deeper.

I grip her hips, adjusting the angle to drive deeper into her, watching her face as pleasure transforms her features. This is what I wanted—to consume her completely, to become the center of her universe. To erase everything but the connection between us.

"Mine," I growl against her ear, punctuating the word with a particularly deep thrust that makes her cry out. "Say it."

"Yours," she whispers, and I feel her surrender in the word, in the way her body yields to mine completely. "I'm yours."

We move together in the dim kitchen light, the pace gradually increasing as both of us chase release. Harbor's hands clutch at my shoulders, nails leaving half-moon indentations that I'll wear proudly later. Her breathing grows ragged, little gasps escaping with each thrust.

I can feel her getting close, her body tensing around mine, back arching further. I slide one hand between us, finding the spot that will push her over the edge, circling it with my thumb as I maintain the deep, steady rhythm of my hips.

"Let go for me," I command softly, watching her face as she comes apart. It's beautiful. Entrancing. Her features slackening with pleasure, mouth open in a silent cry, eyes half-lidded but still locked on mine.

Her release triggers my own, and I bury myself deep inside her as I come, her name a curse and a prayer on my lips. For amoment, we're completely connected, both physically and in the raw vulnerability of climax.

As the orgasm ends, Harbor collapses against my chest, her forehead resting on my shoulder. I support her weight easily, one hand coming up to stroke her hair, the other still holding her firmly against me.

"Don't leave me," she whispers against my skin, the words so unexpected they make me freeze momentarily. There's a raw desperation in her voice that wasn't there before, a naked need that has nothing to do with physical pleasure and everything to do with the emotional devastation I've wrought.

The request surprises us both, her, because she's asking her kidnapper to stay with her; me, because I never expected such surrender so quickly, so completely.

My grip tightens possessively, arms wrapping around her in a hold that's as much cage as comfort. "I never will," I promise, and it's perhaps the most honest thing I've ever said to her.

Kissing her temple gently, tasting salt and sweat, we stay like that. "I've got you," I murmur against her skin. "Always."

Chapter Eighteen

Harbor

MychestheavesasI try to catch my breath, lungs burning from the intensity of what just happened between us. Hemade love to me.It was everything and yet not nearly enough. I jump off the counter and love the way confusion writes itself into his face. My fingers tremble slightly from the electricity still coursing through my veins, making every nerve ending sing with anticipation of what comes next. I've crossed a line tonight, and there's no going back. I don't want to go back.

"Follow me," I whisper, my voice husky with desire as I lead him down the hallway toward the bedroom.

The room is pitch black when we enter, the curtains blocking out even the faintest hint of light. I fumble along the wall, feeling for the thick fabric, then pull them wide open with a decisive motion. Moonlight floods the space immediately, painting everything in an ethereal silver-blue glow that transforms theordinary into something stunning. The king-sized bed with its rumpled sheets looks like an altar in this light.

Kairo stands in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the hallway light. His hands are hanging from the door frame and his silhouette is gorgeous. He’s a fucking work of art and I want him all over me. Inside me. I can't fully make out his expression, but I feel the weight of his gaze as he scans me, raising goosebumps along my exposed skin.

"I want you to dominate me," I say, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them. "I want you to make me feel things I've never felt before. Take control. Make me yours. But this time… I’m giving you express consent." My heart pounds so hard I swear he must hear it from across the room.

Something shifts in his posture… a subtle change that transforms him from attentive lover to something more dangerous, more primal. He steps into the room, the moonlight revealing his face. His eyes have darkened to almost black, his pupils so dilated they've nearly swallowed the iris. A slow smile spreads across his face, not the warm, charming one I've seen all day, but something hungrier.

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