Omega pov (Ayan)
He didn't speak again until she was gone.
He didn't look at me as he locked the door behind her with a loud, final click.
I stood frozen near the bed, still in his robe, heart racing so fast it felt like my ribs would snap.
Kieran's shoulders were tense, back still turned to me.
And then—
He exhaled.
Slow. Long.
Like something in him was breaking.
And when he turned… his eyes weren't cold anymore.
They were burning.
Gold, deep and bright.
He took slow steps toward me. One. Then two.
I didn't move.
Not when his fingers slid across the belt of the robe.
Not when he leaned in, forehead pressing to mine, breath shaking.
"I've held back for too long," he said, voice low. Almost a growl.
"I've been trying to protect you. From my world. From what I am. From them."
His hand slid behind my back, pulled me closer.
"But I can't keep doing this."
He kissed me.
Hard.
Like it hurt to hold back another second.
I gasped against his mouth, and that tiny sound made him snap.
He grabbed the back of my thighs, lifting me like I weighed nothing, carrying me to the bed without breaking the kiss.
I clung to his shoulders, body already burning. His scent was everywhere—thick, strong, overwhelming. My head spun.
He dropped me gently onto the sheets, the robe slipping off my shoulder.
He looked at me like he was starving.
And I wanted him to devour me.
"Kieran," I whispered, breathless.
He crawled over me, eyes locked on mine.
"This time, I'm not stopping," he said.
His hands trailed under the robe, pushed it open slowly, reverently. When his gaze landed on my bare skin—on all of me—his throat moved in a hard swallow.
He bent down, kissed the hollow of my throat.
I shivered.
His tongue slid lower, past my chest, down my stomach.
I gasped again when his mouth reached my inner thigh.
He looked up at me from between my legs, breath hot.
"You smell like need," he growled. "And it's driving me insane."
My face flushed.
Then his mouth was on me—and I arched.
His tongue was too much. Too good. I bit my lip, trying not to cry out
He wanted the sounds
When I started trembling, he finally pulled away, lips wet, eyes hungry.
He kissed his way back up my body, until we were nose to nose again.
"Say you want this," he whispered.
"I do," I breathed. "I want you."
That was all he needed.
He undressed in seconds—shirt tossed aside, belt undone, pants sliding off with a thud.
His body was flawless.
Hard. Cut. Heavy with heat.
And when I saw how big he was, my breath caught.
He hovered over me again, pressing the tip of his cock against me, teasing, waiting.
His lips brushed my ear.
"You're mine now."
He pushed in
I cried out, legs tightening around his waist.
His mouth covered mine again, swallowing every sound
When he was fully inside, he paused, shaking with restraint.
I clutched his back.
He began to move.
Each thrust deeper. Stronger. Claiming.
He kissed down my neck, licking the sensitive spot just above my gland.
"You feel like you were made for me," he whispered. "No one else will ever touch you. Ever."
My moans filled the room, matching the rhythm of his hips.
He grunted, buried deep, and I felt his knot beginning to swell.
His breath turned ragged.
"You sure?"
I nodded, gasping. "Knot me."
He groaned loudly and thrust harder.
His knot pushed in, stretching, locking us together.
I arched with a cry, and he growled, marking me deep inside.
We were stuck—joined (knot)
He pressed his lips to my forehead, my cheek, my lips again and again.
"I love you," he whispered. "I loved you since you walked into that interview room. I just didn't know what to do with it."
My heart twisted.
I buried my face into his neck.