Stop tormenting me

Rae’s POV

I was still sprawled on Zara’s carpet, cheeks aching from laughing, when I finally typed back.

Me:

miss you more 🥺

almost done terrorizing Zara. come get me whenever you want ♡

Three dots appeared instantly.

Killian ❤️:

on my way. five minutes.

Zara read over my shoulder and fake-swooned. “Five minutes? Girl, he’s got it bad.”

Exactly four minutes and fifty-two seconds later (I counted), my phone buzzed again.

Killian ❤️:

outside, baby.

I scrambled up, smoothing my dress, suddenly nervous for no reason. Zara shoved me toward the door with a final squeal of “Go get your man!” and practically pushed me out.

The second I stepped onto the porch, the driver’s door opened and Killian unfolded himself from the car, black T-shirt stretched across his chest, jeans hugging his thighs, sunglasses reflecting the late-afternoon sun.

He pulled them off the moment he saw me, and his whole face softened.

I didn’t even make it down the steps.

He met me halfway, arms wrapping around me so tightly my feet left the ground. He buried his face in my neck, breathing me in like he’d been underwater for hours.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he mumbled against my skin, voice rough.

I laughed, arms looping around his neck, legs dangling. “Killian, you dropped me off like five hours ago.”

He shook his head stubbornly, nose brushing my throat. “Felt like five years.”

I melted, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Your ridiculous,” he corrected, finally setting me down but keeping me tucked against his chest.

We stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly, his hands stroking my back, my fingers playing with the hair at his nape. Eventually he let me go just enough to open the passenger door.

That’s when I saw it.

A pale-blue box tied with satin ribbon sat on the seat, my name written in elegant script on a tiny card.

I froze. “Killian…”

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “I wanted to get you something. Then realized I had no idea what you actually like, so… I winged it. Open it later if you want. Or now. Whatever makes you happy.”

My heart was doing cartwheels. I picked up the box carefully, turned to him, and rose on tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck again.

“Thank you,” I whispered, voice wobbly. “You didn’t have to.”

He hugged me tighter, lips brushing my temple. “You deserve so much more than a box, Rae. I’ll spend every day figuring out how to give it to you. Anything. Anything to see that smile.”

I pulled back just enough to kiss him, soft, slow, pouring every grateful flutter in my chest into it.

He sighed into my mouth, hands sliding down to my waist, thumbs tracing little circles.

When we broke apart we were both a little breathless. He opened the door wider, helped me in, then jogged around to his side.

By the time he slid behind the wheel, I was already tugging at the ribbon. The box opened to reveal a delicate gold necklace, a tiny, perfect star pendant nestled in velvet, so fine it caught every bit of light.

A small note in his handwriting:

because you’re my favorite sky.

I actually teared up.

His hand found my thigh immediately, warm, steady, claiming.

The car rolled smoothly onto the road, city lights starting to flicker on as the sun dipped low.

At the first red light, I turned to him, voice barely above a whisper. “Killian.”

“Yes, baby?” He glanced over, eyes soft.

“Thank you,” I said again, smaller this time, and reached across the console to cup his jaw, pulling him into a kiss.

It started sweet, just lips, gratitude, love, but the second our mouths opened it turned messy and perfect.

Tongues sliding, soft little moans I couldn’t hold back, his hand tightening on my thigh.

The light turned green and a car honked behind us; neither of us cared. We kissed like we were starving until we had to break for air.

He leaned in again immediately, chasing my lips.

I laughed, pressing a finger to his mouth. “Eyes on the road, honey.”

He groaned dramatically but obeyed, both hands now on the wheel like a scolded schoolboy. The look he shot me was pure yearning, pupils blown, lips swollen, utterly wrecked.

I bit my lip, feeling bold, and slid my hand from his knee up his thigh slow, deliberate, stopping dangerously close to where he was already straining against his jeans.

“Rae,” he warned, voice gravel.

I traced one fingernail along the inseam, watching his knuckles go white on the steering wheel.

“Baby, stop tormenting me.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked, all faux innocence.

He glanced over, eyes dark and promising. “Then I’ll pull this car over, drag you into the backseat, and fuck you so good you won’t have the energy to walk for the next two days.”

The words sent heat flooding every inch of me.