3 – The Taste of Forbidden Heat

Meira’s chest rose and fell in frantic rhythm. Her breath hitched, not only from the shock—but from the kiss.

That kiss.

It hadn’t been gentle. It hadn’t asked permission. It struck like a storm, fierce and consuming, as though her lips were no longer hers, as though even the air she breathed now belonged to him.

Hastan… God, he didn’t just kiss.

He claimed.

The sharp ring of a phone cut through the thick, heated silence. Meira twisted her face away, her palms pushing desperately against the hard wall of his chest. But the arm around her waist only tightened.

“Ha—Hastan, let me go…” Her voice was muffled, trembling between ragged breaths.

Instead of releasing her, his jaw tensed. His hand slid to the back of her neck, firm, unyielding, forcing her lips back under his command. His mouth crushed hers again, tongue demanding, chasing the taste he had stolen seconds before.

The phone rang again. Urgency gripped Meira; panic surged in her veins. Her hands wedged between their bodies, pushing against him, but Hastan only grew more relentless—as if that sound was a challenge, a rival he was determined to defeat.

Until—

“Agh!”

She bit him. Hard.

The metallic tang of blood filled both their mouths.

He jerked back, his head lifting, but not with fury. No—his lips curved instead into a dangerous smirk, sin glinting in the low lamplight. Blood traced the swell of his lower lip, making the sight more feral, more carnal.

“Still as fierce as you used to be,” he murmured, voice hoarse, a velvet rasp that made her spine tighten.

His grip loosened, finally. In a rush, Meira tore herself free, darting toward the edge of the bed. Her trembling hand snatched the phone from the nightstand—still ringing.

Her blood froze at the name on the screen.

Octavian.

Her thumb shook as she swiped green. A familiar, innocent face filled the display—a round-cheeked boy with curls tumbling over his forehead.

“Mama! Did you get there yet?” The child’s cheerful voice pierced straight through her chest, unraveling every knot in her muscles.

“Dio…” Meira whispered, her lips softening into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. But she quickly turned, angling the screen away from Hastan, shielding her son from the man who stood at the door—broad, immovable, his eyes unreadably sharp.

“How did you get Daddy’s phone? Are you with him?” she asked, forcing a light tone.

“Daddy went out. I don’t know where. But I got his phone! Now I can watch race cars all I want!” Dio giggled, bright and pure, a sound that melted her heart even as it stoked her resentment.

Octavian… again with the gadgets. Never games, never stories.

“Sweetheart, not too long, okay? Just ten minutes,” Meira coaxed.

“Ten minutes? Okay! Otherwise my eyes will turn red, right?” He blinked exaggeratedly, making her laugh despite the knot in her throat.

“Yes. Promise me—just ten minutes.”

While she focused on her son, Hastan moved. His steps were soundless, but his presence spread like a shadow, seeping into every corner of the room.

Meira flicked her gaze sideways—he was closer now. Too close.

Her free hand rose instinctively, palm out in a silent plea. Don’t. Not now.

But his eyes… his eyes burned with defiance, with a hunger that considered disobedience an option.

“Okay, Mama, love you! Muah!” Dio pressed a kiss against the camera.

“I love you too, more than anything,” Meira whispered, her voice thick with tenderness.

The call ended. Silence rushed back in like a tide. Warmth from her child’s voice hadn’t even settled when another warmth arrived—this one darker, heavier.

A heat pressed against her shoulders.

Hastan.

Standing directly behind her. Close enough that she could feel the thrum of his blood, the fire simmering beneath his skin.

She didn’t need to turn. That breath—the deep, steady rumble brushing her neck—told her exactly who it was. Her heart thundered, a frantic rhythm betraying the calm mask she tried to keep.

She clutched the phone tighter, as though the small device could shield her.

“Hastan… don’t,” she whispered.

“What was that?” His voice rumbled low, quiet, but every word struck her ears like a blade.

“You heard it yourself. My son.”

“No.” His tone darkened. “I meant the man in that photo.”

Her body went rigid. “…That’s none of your concern.”

A humorless laugh slipped from him, soft yet sharp. “None of my concern? Then it’s true. You’re still another man’s wife.”

The venom laced in those last two words sent a chill through her veins.

Meira turned to snap back, but froze.

Their distance—barely a breath. His gaze pierced her, merciless. His jaw flexed, lips swollen and red where she had bitten him, stark against the deepening darkness in his eyes.

“You think I’m not furious?” His voice dropped lower, a dangerous growl. “Here I am—losing myself in your mouth—and all the while, you still belong to someone else.”

“That’s the past,” she fired back, though her voice faltered, betraying doubt even to herself. “We’re not—”

“Legally, you are.” His hand rose, fingers strong yet deliberate, tilting her chin upward, forcing her to meet him. His breath fanned across her lips. “And that makes me want to break every wall you’ve built.”

Her throat tightened. The touch wasn’t cruel, but it bound her all the same.

“You have no right—”

“Right or not, Meira…” His forehead lowered, nearly brushing hers. “…I won’t stop unless you truly want me to.”

Air trembled between their mouths.

She should have pushed him away. Should have turned, should have screamed. But she didn’t. Her body betrayed her, locked in place—caught between anger, fear, and the treacherous spark that burned hotter with every second.

“You’re insane,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he breathed, lips hovering a fraction above hers. “Insane for you.”

Before she could form a reply, he lowered his head again. Not brutal this time. Not forceful.

His lips brushed her temple. Slow. Deliberate.

Down the line of her jaw.

And then—her neck.

Meira’s eyes shut tight.

A shiver tore through her. Hatred, confusion, and a forbidden desire tangled into one. A feeling she despised—because she was enjoying it.