Chapter 6: The Kiss of Temptation

Dahlia’s P.O.V

The kiss takes me by surprise—stunning me into stillness. It isn’t just the abruptness of it, or the way his lips move with such confidence against mine, but the sheer force of it, the undeniable heat that pulls me in, making my pulse pound like a war drum. Killian doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t falter. His fingers press into the small of my back as he pulls me down on top of him, deepening the kiss in a way that has my breath hitching in my throat.

I should move. I should shove him away. But I don’t. Instead, I melt into him, unable to resist the sheer intensity of the moment. My fingers curl against his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath my touch, as if it’s calling to mine, syncing in a rhythm that I don’t understand but can’t ignore. It’s more than just a kiss—it’s something deeper, something raw and unrelenting.

There’s something about Killian, something dangerous and intoxicating, and I know, even as I lose myself to him, that this is reckless. He is not a man to play with, not a man to fall for. But God help me, I can’t seem to care. His scent wraps around me, dark and alluring, a mixture of cedar and fire, and my head spins as his hand moves to the back of my neck, keeping me anchored to him, as if he refuses to let me go.

A soft sound escapes me, unbidden, and it makes him groan against my lips, the vibration sending shivers down my spine. I am drowning in him, in the sheer dominance of his presence, the way he takes what he wants with no hesitation. It is terrifying—and thrilling.

But then, his hand begins to move. Down my back, tracing along my spine with slow, possessive intent. Lower. My body stiffens as reality slams into me like a cold slap.

                                                      

What am I doing?

I break away, breathless, my fingers pressing against his chest, creating space between us. I gasped, my breath hitching as reality slammed into me like a tidal wave. My hands, which had been tangled in Killian’s hair moments ago, now trembled as I pushed against his chest, my heart hammering against my ribs. The heat between us was suffocating, but it wasn’t passion anymore—it was guilt, shame, and the sudden, overwhelming realization of what I was about to do. 

“Killian,” I breathed, my voice barely a whisper. His green eyes burn into mine, dark with something unreadable, but I don’t let myself linger. I scramble back, heart racing, chest heaving, every nerve ending in my body still tingling from his touch.

“This—this is wrong.” My pulse raced, and I felt the sting of my own words because I knew how close I had come to crossing a line I swore I never would. I hugged myself as if that could somehow shield me from the mess I had just created. 

Killian didn’t move, didn’t even try to reach for me. Instead, he threw his head back and let out a deep, unapologetic laugh, the sound rich with amusement but laced with something darker. His stormy eyes gleamed as they settled on me, lips curling into a smirk that made my stomach twist.

“Wrong?” he echoed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Dahlia, you came to me. You came to me asking for help to annul your marriage because your so-called loving husband couldn’t keep it in his pants. And now you’re talking about betrayal?” 

His words stung, slicing through me with the cruel accuracy of a blade. I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay firm. “Yes, Alpha Killian,” I shot back, my voice stronger now, fueled by the conviction that had nearly abandoned me. “Just because my husband decided to betray me doesn’t mean I have to stoop to his level.” I swallowed hard, my throat tight with the weight of my own emotions. “I refuse to let his choices define mine.” 

For a moment, Killian just stared at me, the amusement fading from his expression. His jaw tightened, his smirk gone, replaced by something more serious, something unreadable. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, watching me like a predator trying to decide whether to pounce or let its prey go. “That’s noble of you, Lady Dahlia,” he said finally, his voice softer but no less intense. “My apologies for crossing the boundaries. But I believe that I wasn’t the only one who is to blame here.”

Of course he wasn’t. I was the one who fell on top of him while eavesdropping, and I was the one who kept on touching him inappropriately. So it was understandable that he did such a thing.

I kept my back straight, my arms folded tightly against my chest as I faced Killian. The room felt suffocating all of a sudden, the weight of his presence pressing down on me like an iron cage. I wanted out. More than anything, I wanted out. But I also knew that nothing in this world came without a price, and Killian had made it clear, while discussing my fate behind closed doors with his Beta, that he was not a man who gave freely. 

“I want the annulment, Alpha Killian,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor deep in my bones. “You promised me that much.” 

Killian, who had only moments ago been sprawled on the floor from our ordeal earlier, pushed himself upright, brushing off the dust from his dark, fitted shirt. His piercing eyes, colder than the northern winds, locked onto mine as he let out a humorless chuckle. 

“You think I’d force you to sleep with me in exchange for the annulment?” His voice was deceptively soft, but there was a sharp edge beneath it, a quiet kind of fury simmering just beneath his skin. 

I swallowed, refusing to back down. “Not long ago, I overheard you speaking with your Beta,” I said, tilting my chin up defiantly. “You said you don’t give favors for free. And I know you, Alpha Killian. You always collect your dues. What if this time, the price for my freedom is—” I hesitated, forcing myself to say it. “Me?” 

The silence that followed was deafening. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, he moved. 

Before I could react, before I could even think of stepping back, he was there, caging me against the heavy oak desk, his towering frame suffocating me in a way that had nothing to do with physical space and everything to do with the raw, unyielding intensity in his gaze. 

His scent—earthy, dark, dangerously intoxicating—swirled around me as he leaned in, his lips a breath away from my ear. “How much did you hear during your little eavesdropping session, Dahlia?” His voice was a low growl, the kind that sent shivers skittering down my spine, though I fought to suppress any reaction. 

I clenched my fists at my sides, willing myself not to shrink under his stare. “Enough,” I said, though my voice came out weaker than I intended. 

His lips twitched, a smirk barely there, yet utterly infuriating. “Is that so?” He exhaled, slow and deliberate, and I hated that my pulse jumped in response. “’Enough’, isn’t a good enough answer, Dahlia, now is it?” He lifted a brow, mock amusement flickering across his face. “Now…are you going to confess how much you really eavesdropped on, or do I need to use some other tactic to get the truth out of you?”