Chapter 9
SERAPHINA
His mouth crashes onto mine, and the world explodes.
It’s not gentle. Not soft. His hand is fisted in my hair, holding me in place, and his kiss is demanding, almost violent. His other hand grips my hip hard enough to bruise, pulling me against him.
I should push him away. Should fight this. Should remind him—and myself—that we hate each other.
Instead, I kiss him back just as desperately.
Luna surges forward with a howl of triumph. “Yes! Finally! Our mate!”
My hands find his shoulders, his chest, not sure if I’m pushing him away or pulling him closer. His body is all hard muscle and heat, and when he groans into my mouth, the sound vibrates through me.
I hate him. I hate this bond. I hate that my body is responding like this.
But gods, I want him.
His hand slides from my hip to my lower back, pressing me flush against him, and I feel him—hard and insistent against my stomach. The evidence of his arousal makes heat pool low in my belly, and I hear myself make a sound I don’t recognize.
He breaks the kiss, and we’re both breathing hard. His ice-blue eyes are wild, his wolf right at the surface. For a moment, we just stare at each other.
“Tell me to stop,” he growls, his voice rough. “Tell me to leave.”
I should. I should tell him to get out, lock the door behind him, and never come back.
“Don’t stop.” The words escape before I can stop them.
Something in his expression shifts—relief, hunger, desperation all at once. Then his mouth is on mine again, and his hands are everywhere.
He walks me backward until my legs hit the bed, and then he’s pushing me down onto the mattress. The weight of him pressing me into the bed makes panic flare in my chest.
Marcus. Throwing me on the bed. His weight pinning me down. His hands tearing at my dress—
I flinch hard, my body going rigid.
Kieran goes completely still. He pulls back immediately, his eyes searching my face. “What’s wrong?”
“I—” My voice shakes. “When you pushed me down, I just—Marcus threw me on the bed. Before I hit him with the candlestick. I just—”
Understanding darkens his expression. His hand comes up to cup my face, surprisingly gentle. “He didn’t—” He pauses. “Did he—”
“No.” I shake my head quickly. “I stopped him before he could. But he was tearing at my dress, and his weight was holding me down, and—”
“Look at me.” His voice is firm but not harsh. “I’m not him. And I won’t do anything you don’t want. If you want to stop, we stop. Right now.”
The gentleness in his voice, the way he’s giving me control even though I can see the strain in his body, the visible effort it’s taking him to hold back—something in my chest cracks.
“I don’t want to stop.” I reach up and pull him back down to me. “I want you. Just, don’t pin me down like that. Not yet.”
He nods, understanding in his eyes. “Tell me if anything triggers you. Anything at all, and I stop.”
When he kisses me this time, it’s different. Still hungry, still desperate, but he’s careful about how he positions his weight, making sure I don’t feel trapped.
His hands move to the hem of my dress, and he pauses, waiting for permission. I nod, and he pulls the fabric up and over my head in one smooth motion.
I’m bare beneath it, no undergarments, nothing. His eyes darken as he takes me in, and I fight the urge to cover myself. No one has ever seen me like this before.
“Gods,” he breathes. “You’re perfect.”
His mouth finds my throat, kissing and nipping his way down to my collarbone. When his lips close around my nipple, I arch off the bed with a gasp. His tongue circles the hardened peak, and pleasure shoots straight between my thighs.
Luna is practically purring in my mind, pushing feelings of need and want so intense I can barely think.
His hand slides down my stomach, over my hip, between my thighs. When his fingers brush against me, I’m already wet, he groans against my breast.
“So ready for me already,” he murmurs. “Even though you hate me.”
“I do hate you,” I gasp as his finger finds that sensitive spot that makes my toes curl.
“Good.” His teeth scrape over my nipple, and I bite back a moan. “Because I hate you too.”
His finger circles that bundle of nerves, and I’ve never felt anything like this before. I’ve touched myself, of course, but this, having someone else touch me, knowing exactly where and how, it’s overwhelming.
“Kieran—” His name tears from my throat as pleasure builds inside me.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Let me hear you.”
His finger slides lower, circling my entrance, and I tense slightly. He notices immediately.
“Have you ever—” He pauses, studying my face. “Has anyone ever touched you like this?”
“No.” My face flushes. “Just myself. I’ve never.”
Understanding flashes in his eyes. “You’re a virgin.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyway.
Something in his expression shifts, possessiveness mixed with something darker. “Good. That means you’re mine. Only mine.”
The claiming instinct in his voice should probably scare me. Instead, it makes heat flood through me.
He works me with his fingers, building pressure inside me until I’m writhing beneath him, desperate for something I can’t name. My hips move against his hand instinctively, seeking more friction, more pressure, more everything.
Just when I think I can’t take anymore, just when that pressure feels like it’s going to break me apart, he pulls his hand away.
I whimper at the loss, and he makes a satisfied sound low in his throat.
“Not yet, Princess. When you come for the first time, it’s going to be on my cock.”
He strips off his own clothes quickly, shirt, pants, everything, and then he’s as bare as I am. My breath catches at the sight of him.
All hard muscle and battle scars, powerful and dangerous and beautiful in a harsh, masculine way. But it’s his cock that makes my eyes widen. It’s thick and hard and—
Fear flutters in my chest. That’s supposed to fit inside me?
“Look at me,” Kieran commands, and my eyes snap to his. “I know I’m big. And yes, it’s going to hurt at first. But I’ll go slow. I’ll make it as easy as I can.”
“How much will it hurt?” The question comes out small.
“I won’t lie to you. Breaking your maidenhead will hurt. But once I’m through, once your body adjusts, it’ll start to feel good. I promise.”
He positions himself between my thighs, careful not to pin me down the way I’d flinched from before. Instead, he holds himself up on his arms, giving me space to breathe, to push him away if I need to.
The head of his cock presses against my entrance, and nervous anticipation coils in my stomach.
“Ready?” he asks quietly.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
He pushes inside slowly, and I feel the stretch immediately. It’s so much more than his fingers—so much thicker, so much deeper. The pressure builds and builds, and then there’s a sharp, tearing pain that makes me cry out.
Kieran freezes immediately. “Breathe. Just breathe through it.”
Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, not from fear, just from the pain of being split open for the first time. He holds completely still, letting me adjust, and gradually the sharp pain fades to a dull ache.
“I’m going to move now,” he warns. “Just a little. Tell me if it’s too much.”
He pulls back slightly, then pushes in deeper, and I feel another stretch, another burn. But this time, there’s something else underneath the discomfort, a fullness, a rightness that makes Luna purr with satisfaction.
“How are you doing?” His voice is strained, and I can see the effort it’s taking him to go this slowly.
“It hurts,” I admit. “But, keep going. I want all of you.”
He pushes deeper, inch by careful inch, until he’s fully seated inside me. We’re both breathing hard, and I feel impossibly full, stretched beyond what I thought possible.
“Gods,” he groans, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. “You feel incredible. So tight. So perfect.”
He holds still, giving my body time to adjust, and slowly, the burning pain fades. My inner muscles relax around him, accepting the intrusion, and that’s when I feel it, pleasure starting to build beneath the discomfort.
“Move,” I whisper. “Please move.”
He does, pulling out slowly before pushing back in, and this time there’s less pain and more of that deep, satisfying pressure. He sets a rhythm, slow and careful at first, mindful that this is my first time, and with each thrust, my body adjusts more, accepts him more readily.
His mouth finds mine again, swallowing my gasps and moans as he moves inside me. One hand tangles in my hair while the other grips my hip, guiding my movements as I start to rock against him instinctively.
“That’s it,” he growls against my lips. “Take what you need.”
The pain is almost completely gone now, replaced by building pleasure that makes me arch into him. He angles his hips differently, and suddenly he’s hitting something inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Oh gods!” I gasp. “There. Right there.”
He does it again, and again, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, less careful as my body responds. The pressure builds inside me, tighter and tighter, until I feel like I’m going to shatter.
His mouth moves to my throat, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin where my neck meets my shoulder. The spot where a mate mark goes.
Luna surges forward with desperate need. “Yes! Mark us! Claim us completely!”
“Do it,” I hear myself beg, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, Kieran, mark me. Make me yours.”
His teeth sink into my skin.
The pain is sharp and immediate, but it transforms instantly into the most intense pleasure I’ve ever felt. The mate bond snaps into place with devastating force, and suddenly I can feel him, not just his body inside mine, but his emotions, his wolf, everything.
Possession. Satisfaction. Triumph. Need so intense it borders on violence. And underneath it all, confusion and something that might be fear, but those are buried beneath the overwhelming drive to claim, to mark, to make me irrevocably his.
“Mine,” his wolf snarls directly into my mind, not through Luna, but through the bond itself. The voice is possessive and absolute. “My mate. Mine forever.”
“Ours,” Luna responds with savage satisfaction. “Finally ours.”
The bond slams through me like lightning, and I shatter. My first orgasm crashes over me in waves so intense I can’t breathe, can’t think, can only feel. My body clenches around him rhythmically, and I’m distantly aware that I’m screaming his name.
Through the bond, I feel his own release building, feel the moment he loses control. He groans against my throat as he spills inside me, his hips stuttering as his cock pulses with his release.
For a long moment, we just stay like that, him still inside me, his teeth still in my skin, both of us trying to catch our breath. The bond hums between us, satisfied and complete.
He releases my throat and licks the wound, sealing it with his saliva the way mated wolves do. I can feel his mark settling into my skin, permanent and unbreakable.
When he pulls out, I wince at the soreness and the loss of fullness. There’s blood on my thighs, not much, but enough to mark that this was my first time. His eyes track the evidence, and something possessive flashes across his face.
He rolls onto his back beside me, and the sudden loss of contact makes the bond pull painfully. Before I can stop myself, I curl into his side, seeking the closeness the bond demands.
His arm comes around me automatically. “Sleep,” he murmurs, his voice rough.
I let my eyes close, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath my ear, his scent surrounding me. Luna is purring with contentment, and despite everything—the hatred, the anger, the impossibility of our situation—I feel safe.
