KAIA’S POV
The taste of his kiss is a mixture of mint and something else, something wild and untamed.
As our tongues tangle, I can’t help but savor the unique flavor that is uniquely his.
His lips are soft and warm against mine, his hands gentle but firm as they hold me close.
Ronan’s lips are firm and demanding against mine, his hand on the small of my back pulling me closer. My fingers tangle in his soft hair, feeling its texture between my fingertips.
The words he speaks aren’t just words—they’re an earthquake, shattering every last brick of the fortress I’ve built around my heart. My chest heaves, my nipples hardening against the thin fabric of my shirt, and I can feel the wetness rising between my thighs, hot and desperate.
Ronan’s eyes burn into me, dark and hungry, like he’s already imagining all the filthy things he’s going to do to me.
This is it. The moment I stop pretending I don’t want him. The moment I stop fighting the way my body screams for his touch. The moment I let him own me.
He doesn’t ask. Ronan grabs me by the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair, and slams his mouth against mine.
His kiss is raw, possessive, and I melt into it. My lips part, and his tongue plunges inside, hot and demanding, claiming every inch of my mouth. I moan into him, my hands clawing at his chest, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to yank my shirt over my head, and I’m left in nothing but a flimsy bra that leaves nothing to the imagination.
Ronan growls, low and primal, and his hands are on me in an instant, like he’s been starving. His thumbs brush over my nipples, and I gasp, arching into his touch.
“Fuck, Kaia,” he rasps, his voice rough with need. “You’re so goddamn perfect.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. His mouth crashes back onto mine, and this time, his hands are everywhere—tracing the curve of my waist, gripping my ass, sliding between my thighs. I’m already so wet, and when his fingers brush against the soaked fabric of my panties, I whimper, my hips bucking against his hand.
“You want me to touch you?” he murmurs against my lips, his breath hot and ragged. “Tell me how bad you want it.”
“Please,” I beg, my voice trembling. “Please, Ronan, I need you.”
He doesn’t make me wait. His fingers hook into the waistband of my panties and yank them down, leaving me completely bare.
The cool air hits my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his gaze as he takes me in. His eyes roam over my body, lingering between my legs, and I can see the hunger in his expression.
“Fuck,” he mutters, dropping to his knees in front of me. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long.”
His hands grip my thighs, spreading me open, and then his mouth is on me, hot, wet and relentless.
His tongue laps at my clit, teasing and circling, and I cry out, my hands tangling in his hair. He doesn’t let up, his tongue teasing me in long, slow strokes that have me trembling on the edge of orgasm.
“Ronan,” I moan, my hips grinding against his face. “Oh God, don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. His fingers join his tongue, sliding inside me with ease, and I’m so close I can’t think straight. He curls his fingers, hitting that spot deep inside me, and I scream his name as I come undone, my body shaking with the force of it.
But he’s not done with me. Not even close. He stands up, his cock straining against his pants, and I can see the outline of it, hard and massive.
He unbuckles his belt with shaking hands, and when he finally frees himself, I can’t help but stare.
“You’re mine now,” he growls, grabbing my hips and pulling me against him. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “All yours.”
Ronan stills, eyes locked on mine, his expression fierce with emotion. He doesn’t rush. He moves slowly, carefully, letting every inch of him slide into me with deliberate control. I gasp, my body stretching to take him, a blend of pleasure and ache tightening through me.
He groans softly, like holding back is a battle he’s willing to lose only to me. “Kaia… gods, you’re perfect.”
His hands cradle my hips, steady and protective, guiding our rhythm as if I’m something sacred. He moves with patience—deep, slow strokes that let me feel everything. No rush. No pain. Just the overwhelming sensation of being claimed, body and soul.
“Kaia,” he groans, his hips slamming into mine. “You feel so fucking good.”
I can’t even form words anymore. All I can do is cling to him as he fucks me senseless, my body trembling with pleasure.
When he finally comes, his cock pulsing inside me, I’m right there with him, screaming his name as I fall apart in his arms.
And when it’s over, when we’re both spent and panting, he holds me close, his lips brushing against my ear.
“Mine,” he whispers. “Forever.”