Chapter 478 Tangled On The Rug (II)
Evaline:
My breath hitched in a helpless rush as Kieran dragged the swollen head of his erection slowly over my throbbing clit. It wasn’t the explicit touch itself that unraveled me… it was the deliberateness of it. The way he watched me, every small reaction, every shiver he drew out of me as if he was memorizing it all.
The teasing contact had my stomach tightening, heat coiling low and intense. He pulled back slightly, only to repeat the action – sliding his length between my already wet folds.
Stars! I was so ready for him.
My body begged him to fill me with his presence.
My soul ached to feel his.
And I knew he could see my need for him in my eyes.
He reached for one of the condom packets he had dropped on the couch beside us. He tore the packet open with his teeth, while his eyes were still locked on mine.
And the wild contrast – the careful slide of his erection over my clit while his mouth worked the thin foil – made my pulse stumble.
But the teasing was short-lived.
Before I fully processed it, he set the unopened packet aside and guided himself to my entrance. The shift in his expression – hunger melting into something raw and hauntingly tender – stole the ground from under me.
“Evaline…” he breathed.
And then he pressed into me in one long, deep glide… bare, unshielded, nothing between us.
I gasped, my hands flying to his shoulders as my body welcomed him instinctively. His breath broke against my cheek, a low, rough sound vibrating through both of us as he stilled, fully sheathed inside me.
The closeness, the heat, the way our bodies fit so perfectly… it was overwhelming in a way that stole my breath. Like he was inside the places in me that had been empty for so long… which was actually the truth.
He lowered his forehead to mine as he stilled, giving both of us time to get used to his presence inside me.
Neither of us spoke.
Neither of us had to.
The quiet was filled with our uneven breathing, with the sound of our hearts finding each other again after too long.
Then he moved.
Slowly at first… drawing nearly out before sinking back into me, each movement more confident, more consuming. The pressure, the rhythm, the friction – it wasn’t something I needed described in stark detail. It was the feeling of my body rising to meet his, my breath catching helplessly, his broken groans against my ear, the way my fingers clung to his back and hair.
After a few thrusts, he found his pace, strong and deep, making my thoughts scatter like sparks. Every movement felt like a claim, a promise, and a plea all at once.
Weeks of distance.
Weeks of grief.
Weeks of wanting someone to pull me back into the world.
And here he was… doing exactly that.
I held on to him like he was the only solid thing in the universe. He kissed me between breaths, desperate, grateful, almost reverent, his mouth finding mine again and again until the room spun.
The pleasure built fast… embarrassingly fast… sharp and bright, curling through me until I couldn’t hold it back. The tension snapped, and I shattered beneath him, my release pulling a gasp from my throat as my whole body trembled around him.
He slowed just enough to let me ride the waves, but it didn’t take long before I noticed his restraint fraying, his movements growing rawer. Each breath he took vibrated with need. Every time he exhaled near my skin, it sent a shiver of anticipation through me.
He was close… I could feel it in the way his rhythm faltered, in the way his hands tightened on my hips, in the subtle tremor racing up his spine.
And yet, despite the haze of pleasure fogging my thoughts, reality crept in. I wasn’t ready to be pregnant again. Not so soon. Not now.
I opened my mouth to tell him…
But he saw it already.
His gaze locked with mine, full of that uncanny, infuriating awareness he always had.
“Evaline,” he murmured, his voice rough and strained, “if you allow it… I want to keep going raw. I’ll pull out in time. I promise.”
My heart thudded at the vulnerability beneath the desire – he wanted this closeness so badly, but he wasn’t going to take it without my consent.
I nodded immediately, still breathless.
He kissed me in a fierce, relieved rush and started moving again – faster, deeper, his hand sliding between our bodies to stroke my sensitive clit, drawing out every last bit of pleasure he could coax from me.
The sensations built even hotter this time, tangled with the heat of his body, the sound of his voice breaking near my ear, the way he whispered my name like he was starving for me.
I couldn’t hold myself together.
My second climax crashed through me hard enough to arch my back off the rug, my cry muffled against his shoulder as I clung to him, trembling.
That was all it took.
He pulled out just in time, shuddering as his release spilled across my belly, his breath shaking, his forehead pressed desperately to mine.
He collapsed over me, not heavy, just… surrounding. His hands framed my face like he needed to feel every part of me to believe this was real.
We stayed like that for a while – our breaths tangled, our bodies still shaking, the room spinning around us – until he finally lowered himself beside me.
But before the moment could settle, he leaned over again, bracing one arm on the rug, hovering above me.
His lips brushed mine, soft and lingering, as he whispered my name like a prayer he had waited too long to say.
I was expecting it to be the end.
He stood up first, grabbed the tissue box and wiped me clean before picking me up in his arms and taking me to the bed.
In no time, I was surrounded by the warmth of his bare body and and coldness of the sheets, but all that melted away when I felt his warm breath right over Draven’s mark.