But the burn in my chest snaps, and before I can stop it, a single tear tracks hot down my cheek.
Her breath hitches. She sees me breaking.
“Killian…” Her voice is low, careful, like she’s approaching a wild animal ready to lash out.
She comes closer, slow, hands lifted, eyes wide. “I’m here. I’m okay. You hear me? I’m okay.”
My back presses against the wall as if I could disappear into it, shame clawing at me for falling apart in front of her. But then she’s there—sliding into my lap, wrapping herself around me like she belongs there.
And fuck, she does.
Her arms anchor me, her heartbeat pounding against my chest. She presses her cheek to mine, letting me breathe her in—soap, tea, the sweetness that’s all her.
Her lips brush the tear’s salty path, and then her eyes lock on mine. Blue and endless. Pulling me back from the void that almost swallowed me whole just now.
Something inside me breaks open, everything I’ve been holding back, everything I’ve been burying under duty and silence. It spills out, unrestrained.
“I can’t fight it anymore,” I rasp, voice hoarse. “Christ, I’ve tried. Told myself this was a job. That I was just here to protect you. But it’s a lie, angel. All of it.”
Her fingers thread into my hair, her touch trembling but steady.
“I don’t want to just guard you. I don’t want to just fuck you. I want you. Every stubborn, beautiful, infuriating part of you.” My chest heaves, raw with it. “I want nights where I fall asleep with you in my arms. Mornings where you steal the covers. I want the fights, the laughter, the goddamn forever. Only you. No one else. Never anyone else.”
The last word tears out of me like a vow.
For a second, I can’t breathe. Can’t take back what I’ve said. Can’t protect myself if she pushes me away.
Her answer comes first in her body—her mouth crashing against mine, desperate, claiming, her hands fisting in my shirt like she’ll never let me go. The kiss is wet, salty from my tears and hers, but it’s fierce, a brand seared into my soul.
When she finally pulls back, she rests her forehead against mine, breath shaking.
“Killian Shaw,” she whispers, eyes shining as a smile breaks out on her beautiful face, “are you trying to tell me you love me?”
And just like that, I’m undone all over again—but this time, it’s not despair dragging me under. It’s her.
“Killian Shaw,” I whisper, eyes stinging with tears as a smile breaks over my face, “are you trying to tell me you love me?”
Something shatters in him. Not rage. Not grief. Something deeper, older—something that’s been clawing to get out.
The next second I’m not on the floor anymore. He hauls me up like I weigh nothing, his mouth claiming mine, devouring me as if the words themselves lit him on fire.
We slam into the kitchen table, a chair clattering over, Killian’s leather jacket dragged down with it. Neither of us cares. My hands are fisted in his hair, tugging, pulling, kissing him like I’ll never get enough.
Clothes disappear in frantic motions—his shirt torn over his head, my jeans shoved down, his belt undone with trembling urgency. His hands grip me everywhere, greedy, desperate, shaking with the force of it.
And then his mouth is on me.
I watch, breath caught, as he lowers between my legs and ravages me like a starving man. His tongue moves fast, ruthless, flicking and circling until my thighs tremble. The sharp press of his piercing drags against me, sending electric shocks through my body. His mouth seals over my clit, sucking hard, pulling a cry from my throat.
“Oh—fuck, Killian?—”
My nails scrape across his scalp, clutching him to me as if I could anchor myself against the storm he unleashes. His growl vibrates through me, low and primal—the sound of a man who refuses to stop until I’m wrecked.
The pressure builds fast, brutal, my body clenching tight as I throw my head back, eyes squeezed shut. Pleasure slams through me, my legs twitching helplessly around his head as I come apart on his mouth.
“Killian—oh God?—”
He doesn’t let up. Doesn’t slow. He devours me through it, tongue relentless, sucking until I’m gasping, shaking, tears pricking the corners of my eyes from how hard it hits me.