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It should have felt like peace. But to Finn, it was only the lull before everything changed—the breath held before the sky cracked open and the real storm began.

CHAPTER 11

KEIRA

Keira lay still in the aftermath, tangled in sweat-slick sheets, her body purring with the kind of exhaustion that blurred the line between satisfaction and shock. Emotion twisted through her chest, thick and knotted—too tangled to name. A fragile warmth lingered in her limbs, but it battled a tide of uncertainty rising like a slow wave.

The air smelled like sex and salt and something older, deeper. Her mind spun, replaying every word, every touch, trying to understand where lust ended and something terrifyingly real began. Her limbs felt boneless, her breath shallow, her mind a tangle of pleasure, disbelief, and something dangerously close to longing. The echo of his touch haunted her skin, and beneath the quiet, a storm brewed in her chest—part exhilaration, part dread.

Her skin still tingled where his hands had gripped her, where his mouth had pressed and claimed. Her breath came shallow, uneven, her pulse racing beneath her skin like a drumbeat she couldn’t control.

What had she done?

Her body still hummed with aftershocks, but guilt crept in around the edges, insidious and cold. She’d crossed a line—one drawn in blood and betrayal, and now smeared in sweat and satisfaction. She’d let him back in, let herself burn in his arms when she should’ve run. Her thoughts battled the warmth still lingering in her limbs, her mind yanking against the leash of reason. This wasn’t just about lust. It never had been.

Her mind scrambled for rational ground, some firm explanation she could cling to. A lapse in judgment. A release of pressure. A moment of weakness. But none of them fit. Because it hadn’t been weak. It had been everything she’d been holding back and everything she’d been afraid to want. It had been primal, yes—but also heartbreakingly intimate.

He stirred beside her, rolling onto his side and brushing a kiss to her shoulder—a soft, lingering press of lips that carried more weight than she'd expected. The heat of his breath ghosted across her skin, sending a ripple down her spine. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was grounding, intimate, as though he was anchoring her to him without words.

Keira’s breath caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes, startled by how much she felt in so simple a touch. The warmth of his lips lingered, a gentle brush that sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t just the touch—it was the weight of it, tender and possessive, like a promise whispered against her skin. Her breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered shut, betraying the storm still churning inside her. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest, and it rolled through her like another kind of touch.

She swallowed hard.

“You okay?” His voice was rough, still half-feral.

Keira kept her eyes on the ceiling. “Do I look okay?”

He propped himself up on one elbow, brushing her hair back with the kind of care that was more dangerous than his teeth. “You look flushed. Sated. Sexy as hell.”

She shot him a sideways glare, the corner of her mouth twitching with a mix of warning and lingering tension. "I’m serious, Finn," she said, her voice low, caught between exasperation and something she wasn’t ready to name.

“So am I.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple. “But I get it. You’re in your head. Talk to me.”

Keira pushed herself upright, dragging the sheet with her, suddenly needing the barrier between them. Her heart thudded dully against her ribs as she stared at the fireplace, watching the last embers flicker and fade like the remnants of sanity.

"It doesn’t make sense," she murmured. "One second I wanted to punch you, the next I was... letting you crawl into my bones." Her voice cracked on the last word, shame and hunger tangled in her chest.

He moved behind her, letting out a breath through his nose, irritation flickering just beneath his steady tone. A firm hand settled on her lower back, grounding them both. “That wasn’t just about sex. You know it. So do I.”

“I don’t know what it was. I just know it scared the shit out of me.”

His hand moved up, slow and sure, to tangle in her hair. Not yanking. Just holding. “Because it’s real. Because it still matters.”

Keira closed her eyes. “It’s not supposed to. Not anymore.”

“That’s a lie you keep telling yourself, love. But your body doesn’t lie.”

Her breath caught, her pulse hitching sharply, and she hated how right he was. The truth settled over her like a net—inescapable, tightening with every beat of her heart. Resistance sparked behind her ribs, flaring hot, then sinking fast into the tangle of longing twisting tighter in her chest. She wanted to shove him away, to claw back the walls she’d built so carefully. But her body refused to move, sunk deep into the warmth ofhim, traitorous and craving. Her limbs stayed heavy, her nerves alight, betraying every ounce of control she tried to hold.

When he lowered her back down onto the pillows, she melted into them, pliant but trembling. His lips traced the line of her spine in slow, reverent passes, igniting goosebumps in their wake. When his hand slid beneath the sheet and found the lingering heat between her thighs, she gasped, her hips lifting in response, not with reason, but with need—fierce, helpless, and unbidden. Her body betrayed the conflict in her mind, rising into his touch with aching urgency.

“You’re thinking too much,” he whispered against her skin. “Let me remind you how this feels.”

This time was different. Slower. Less a storm, more a seduction. He kissed every inch of her like he was reclaiming it—her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, the soft skin beneath her breasts. Worship and possession twisted together as his mouth roamed her neck, her shoulders, the small of her back, and lower still.

As he reached her thighs, he gently parted them with utmost care. Feeling his breath on her skin, she shuddered when his tongue touched her wetness. Her hips jerked in response, a gasp escaping her lips. He groaned against her, the vibrations traveling through her core as he licked and teased her clit—first softly, then more forcefully. She gripped the sheets, head thrown back, thighs trembling.

He devoured her as if she belonged to him, eliciting moan after moan, making her convulse under his skilled mouth. When she could no longer hold back, she came with a cry that signaled both relief and submission.