Page 30 of Pretty Little Kitty

Quiet. Raw.

“Suero…”

Just his name. No command. No challenge.

He looked down.

Kia’s eyes were open, locked onto his, and there was no defiance there now. Just heat. Need.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered. “Please…don’t stop.”

Something broke inside Suero.

Not hard. Not violent. Just a quiet snap—like a chain coming loose. He bent, his hand sliding from Kia’s thigh to his cheek, brushing sweat-damp hair away from his eyes.

“I’m not stopping,” he murmured, voice low and thick. “I’ve got you.”

He pulled back slowly. Felt every inch of that slick, perfect heat dragging along his cock. Kia shivered, breath catching, and Suero didn’t go hard. He didn’t slam in.

He rocked forward. Smooth. Deep.

His mate’s head fell back against the pillow, his throat exposed, vulnerable. Suero’s lips hovered there, brushing that sensitive skin but not biting—not yet.

His hips moved in slow, deliberate strokes. The kind of pace that said, This isn’t about getting off. This is about making you feel everything.

“You feel me?” he breathed against Kia’s jaw. “Every inch?”

His mate nodded, eyes fluttering shut, body trembling under him.

“Good,” he whispered, dragging his tongue up the side of Kia’s neck, tasting salt and skin and the echo of trust. “Because I feel you, too. All of you.”

Kia trembled under him, his chest rising and falling like he couldn’t quite catch enough air. Suero moved again, another slow thrust that dragged the head of his cock right across that spot that made his mate’s whole body tighten.

The cheetah shivered, his nails digging into Suero’s back—not to push away, not even to pull him closer—just to hold on.

Suero didn’t pick up the pace. He didn’t need to.

Not when Kia’s body was clinging to him like it was learning a rhythm it had never known.

“Dime lo que necesitas,” he whispered against Kia’s temple.

Tell me what you need.

His mate’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Just a soft, desperate exhale. His thighs trembled again, legs still locked around Suero’s waist, and when Suero shifted his angle slightly and pushed back in, Kia cried out.

That noise? That sound broke him.

Not because it was loud. Because it was real.

He kissed Kia’s neck, then his cheek, then lower—trailing reverent touches like prayers over skin that tasted like heat and home.

“You don’t have to be strong right now,” he murmured. “Just feel me.” Another slow roll of his hips.

“I do.” His mate gasped. “I feel you everywhere.”

That made Suero’s throat tighten. His wolf stilled, reverent, recognizing something ancient in those words. Not just surrender. Not just sex.

Belonging.

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