004

Nevaeh Brown

“Kane, it’s me. Helen. We need to talk.”

Her voice pierced straight through my skull.

Kane stiffened. His jaw clenched, chest rising with a harsh breath.

“Not now, Helen,” he growled—deep, warning, the kind of tone that made the walls tighten.

“But Kane, it’s important—”

“I said not now.”

His voice cracked through the room with a dominance that made something low in my stomach twist tight. I could almost picture her flinching in the hallway.

“Kane, listen—”

“No. Go.”

Silence.

Then the sharp click of her heels retreating.

Slow. Reluctant. Frustrated.

The moment her footsteps vanished, the air between us shifted from tense—

to electric.

Kane turned toward me.

His eyes?

They weren’t angry.

They were burning.

A dangerous, impossible mix of fury, hunger. guilt and restraint on the verge of snapping

Heat rushed up my throat.

I bit my lower lip without meaning to, my body reacting faster than my mind. His presence alone made my skin prickle, nipples tightening under my top, my stomach knotting from the closeness.

“You’re staring,” I whispered.

“And you’re smiling,” he muttered, voice dark.

I hadn’t realized I was—until he pointed it out.

“I thought you were desperate to marry me off,” I said, stepping closer. “So why—”

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat—not squeezing, not hurting—just holding. Controlling.

The heat from his palm burned through me.

My breath hitched.

My thighs pressed together on instinct.

“Don’t play games with me,” he growled, pulling me closer until my chest brushed his. “Not after what you did.”

“What I did?” My voice cracked.

His eyes darkened, the suspicion returning full force. “Why did you poison my food?”

My breath stopped.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t—”

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me closer. His breath hit my cheek, hot and furious.

“Don’t lie to me,” he hissed. “Whoever tampered with my meal wanted me weak. Wanted me out of control. Wanted my guard down so I’d do something reckless.”

My heart pounded painfully.

“Kane, I swear on my life—”

“Why else,” he said, voice dropping dangerously, “would you act like this? Why else would you throw yourself at me? Why else would your body respond like—”

He stopped.

Too late.

His gaze had already dropped to my mouth.

My throat.

My chest.

Lower.

His hand tightened around my waist without him realizing it.

He felt it.

I felt it.

The pull.

The craving.

The gravity dragging us closer.

“You think I don’t notice?” he said quietly, voice strained. “You think I don’t see how you react when I’m near you?”

My breath shuddered out.

So he did notice all those times when I put on makeup, when I deliberately wear some shorts a smile spread across my face. Finally. A bit of recognition.

“You think I don’t hear how your heart races?”

His thumb brushed my lower lip.

“You think I don’t smell what you want from me? The lust…”

My knees nearly gave out.

“Kane…”

My voice was a tremble.

He stepped even closer.

“If you didn’t poison me,” he whispered, “then why did you look at me like that last night? Why did you—”

His voice broke.

He stopped talking.

Stopped thinking.

Stopped pretending.

He grabbed my jaw and crushed his mouth to mine.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t kind.

It wasn’t controlled.

It was a rupture.

His lips were furious against mine, breath ragged, fingers gripping the back of my neck like he couldn’t bear the space between us anymore. His other hand slammed against the wall beside my head as if he needed something to hold onto to keep from breaking completely.

My hands flew to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt. My whole body arched into him, the pull overwhelming, intoxicating, terrifying.

This kiss wasn’t a mistake.

It was a confession.

“Kane…” I gasped when he pulled back for air.

He rested his forehead against mine, both of us shaking, breaths mingling like shared fire.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t want you. I shouldn’t even be looking at you like this.”

“Then stop,” I breathed.

“Stop wanting me.”

His eyes snapped open—wild, torn, devouring.

“I can’t.”

The admission destroyed me.

But there was more—

something darker.

His grip tightened suddenly.

“But I won’t let you lie to me,” he growled. “Someone tampered with my food. Someone wants chaos. Someone wants me out of my control.”

His thumb brushed my throat slowly.

“Tell me the truth, Nevaeh.”

His voice dropped into something dangerous enough to make my stomach twist.

“If you didn’t do it…

prove it.”

My breath caught in my throat, a fragile hitch that echoed the storm raging inside me. He wasn't demanding evidence or accusations—he was seeking something deeper, more intimate. Submission. Trust. A truth that pulsed between us, felt in the heat of our bodies rather than spoken in words.

“Kane,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of my innocence, “I didn’t poison you.”

His jaw tightened, a flicker of conflict etching lines across his strong features. His grip on me eased, fingers uncurling from their fierce hold, as if releasing me meant releasing his doubts. His eyes, those piercing depths, burned with a fire that wasn't just anger—it was belief, raw and unwilling. He trusted me, even as it tore at him to admit it.

In that suspended moment, I couldn't bear the distance anymore. I leaned in, closing the gap with a soft, tentative kiss, my lips brushing his in a plea for connection. He froze for a heartbeat, then responded, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that spoke of longing we'd both suppressed for too long. Our kiss deepened, tongues entwining in a slow, yearning dance—tender yet urgent, like a confession poured out in every sigh and caress. His hands cradled my face, thumbs tracing my cheeks as if memorizing the shape of my truth.

The kiss broke only when the need for more became overwhelming. I slid down his body, my hands trembling as they worked open his pants, freeing his thick cock. It stood hard and ready, a testament to the desire he couldn't deny. Kneeling before him, I looked up, meeting his gaze filled with that mix of suspicion and aching want. “Let me show you,” I murmured, my voice husky with emotion.

I took him into my mouth slowly, lips wrapping around the head, tongue swirling gently to taste the salt of his skin. He groaned, a low sound that vibrated through me, his fingers threading into my hair—not pulling, but guiding with a reverence that made my heart swell. I bobbed my head, taking him deeper, my mouth stretching around his length as I sucked with devoted care.

When he couldn't hold back any longer, he pulled me up, our lips crashing together in a kiss that tasted of him, of us. His flavor lingered on my tongue as we devoured each other, hands roaming with desperate tenderness. He lifted me effortlessly, laying me back on the soft bed, his body hovering over mine like a promise.

His mouth trailed down my neck, nipping softly before finding my breasts. He cupped one gently, thumb circling the nipple until it peaked, then leaned in to suckle—warm, wet pulls that sent shivers cascading through me. I whimpered, arching into his touch, my fingers clutching his shoulders as waves of pleasure mingled with the ache in my chest. “Kane... please,” I cried softly, my voice breaking on the edge of a sob, not from pain but from the overwhelming need to be his, to erase every shadow of doubt.

Finally, he rose, positioning himself between my thighs. His eyes locked on mine—dark, conflicted, burning with everything he’d spent years forcing down.

“I believe you,” he whispered, the words raw, cracking at the edges. “But I need to feel it… all of you.”

His mouth crashed against mine again, desperate this time, almost frightened. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me toward him like he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. The world blurred. My pulse roared in my ears. And then—

We crossed the line.

Fast.

Fierce.

Reckless.

Not gentle.

Not careful.

Not something either of us could pretend to control.

A breathless gasp tore from my throat, swallowed instantly by his kiss as he pushed into me—deep, claiming, a decision made in a single shattering moment neither of us could take back. His fingers dug into my skin like he needed something to hold on to, like stopping would break him even more than giving in.

We moved together in frantic, stolen rhythm—two people losing themselves, losing sense, losing boundaries. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t the fantasy I’d imagined a thousand times.

It was wrong.

Chaotic.

Forbidden.

And it consumed us anyway.

His forehead pressed to mine, our breaths tangled, our bodies shaking as the moment crashed over us like a wave that drowned everything—fear, doubt, reason.

By the time it was over, we weren’t the same.

We couldn’t be.

And in that small, trembling silence that followed…

a hollow ache spread through my chest.

Because even as he held me—

I already felt him slipping away.

But who knew this reckless act would somehow lead to a whole agonizing pain?