Page 23

M y phone pings as I ease Cleo, my little rust bucket, into the gravel drive, the tires crunching softly beneath me.

I’d just come from helping Gramps pack up the last of his things—he and Melody officially decided to move in together.

Engaged, no less.

And honestly? I can’t stop smiling.

Gramps is in love.

Like, giddy, teenager in a soda shoppe, tripping over his slippers in love.

And you know what? I get it.

Because I’m in love, too.

With a Bull Shifter who calls me Mo Chroí and touches me like he can’t help himself and who makes me feel like I’m made of fire and silk.

With a man who holds me like I’m precious and fucks me like I’m his lifeline.

I don’t care what anyone else says.

Yeah, I know it all sounds fast, reckless, maybe even a little insane.

But love doesn’t always follow the rules.

And this? This is real.

I feel it with every breath.

Kian’s mine. And I’m his.

And I’ll fight to keep it that way.

My phone keeps pinging, dragging me out of my heart-flushed haze. When I finally check it, I frown at the multiple texts blinking up from Bob, my old boss at the bar.

Where are you?

You missed your shift.

Arliss, I know we argued, but I need you to come in.

Look, there’s a flu going around—please help me out.

I have your last paycheck. Plus a bonus if you come in tonight.

Damn it.

I’ve always had a soft spot for people in need.

I hit call, and Bob answers before the first ring even finishes.

“Arliss? Oh, thank God. Can you be here by seven?”

“Hold up.” I cut him off. “You remember what you said the last time I saw you, right?”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry, okay? I mean it. I’m desperate here. Rita’s sick. Loren too. Jenny tried to bartend, and it was like watching a toddler pour soup into a blender. It’s a mess. Please. Just this once.”

I sigh, checking the time. 5:32.

“I’ll come in. But at seven-thirty. That gives me two hours to shower and eat with my man.”

“What man? Never mind. Make it seven?”

“Seven-thirty or nothing.”

“Fine. Seven-thirty. You’re a saint. Thank you.”

“This is a one time thing, Bob. One night.”

“Got it. See you soon.”

I hang up and lift my gaze just as a familiar rumble pulls into the drive beside me.

Kian.

And hot damn, but it hits me all over again.

The truck.

The broad shoulders behind the wheel.

That golden hair ruffled from the wind, those heavy-lidded eyes that see right through me.

I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.

But it’s more than a smile.

It’s craving.

Need so sharp it punches through my chest and pools hot between my thighs.

I feel my panties dampen with instant, undeniable want, and my nipples pebble behind my bra like they know he’s near.

My sex clenches, aching for him, for the thick, perfect pressure of his body filling mine until we both forget our names.

Before I even know I’m moving, I’m out of the car and running, the gravel forgotten beneath my feet.

I leap into his arms, heart hammering, legs wrapping around his waist like they remember where they belong.

“Kian,” I moan into his mouth, slamming my lips to his, tasting the salt and musk of him, devouring him like he’s air and I’ve been suffocating all day.

He groans, hands gripping my ass tight, grinding me against him—and oh fuck, I feel it.

His cock is already thick and hard, pressing right against the center of my throbbing heat.

“Goddamn. Fuck. I don’t know what I did to deserve this greeting, but I am sure happy to see you too, Mo Chroí ,” he rasps, kissing down my neck as I dig my fingers into his hair.

“You were born,” I whisper, breathless. “And then you picked me.”

“That’s it, huh? Well, lucky me,” he growls, low and reverent, and before I can blink, he’s carrying me up the steps and kicking open the cabin door.

We crash inside in a flurry of limbs and gasps, the wood creaking under us like it knows what’s coming.

I try to speak, but my breath catches as he sets me down and presses me up against the wall, one hand already dragging my jeans down my hips, the other cupping my breast through my shirt.

“Kian, I have to go in to the bar in?—”

“What? Why?”

“Bob asked me for a favor.”

“I see. Well, then I better make this nice and quick,” he says, voice gone deep and feral, pupils blown wide as he drops to his knees in front of me.

“So fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” He looks up, face full of worship and heat.

I nod because, yes , I am. Wet and ready for him. Always.

“You been walking around like this all day?”

I whimper.

“Poor baby. I got you now. Fuck, I need you too,” he grunts as he undresses me. “I’ve been hard for you since breakfast.”

And with one swift tug, he rips my panties clean off.

Next, his mouth is on me, and he lifts one leg with a thick hand wrapped around my thigh and places it over his shoulder.

Then, my man devours me.

Kian growls, and the sound shoots straight through my core like molten fire.

He lifts my other leg, and suddenly I’m riding his face, my back pinned to the wall, thighs spread wide, and his hands gripping me like I’m something sacred.

And maybe I am. To him. He makes me feel like I am everything .

And I swear, I’m addicted.

His rough palms press into my inner thighs, holding me open, exposing every needy, dripping inch of me to his mouth.

My skin burns where he touches, and my heart races, and my body aches with anticipation because I know he’s not holding back.

Usually, a girl my size might hesitate at being hoisted up like a trophy, especially for something this filthy, this brazenly carnal.

But not with Kian.

Not with the way he holds me like I’m weightless.

Like I’m his treasure.

So instead of second-guessing, I give in.

I help.

I dig my bare heels into his back, grounding myself on the massive wall of muscle beneath his shirt, and the second I do, his tongue strokes up my slit in one long, sinfully slow pass.

From slit to clit, he laps at me like he’s dying of thirst.

“Oh fuck. More. Kian, gimme more,” I moan, head thudding gently back against the wall.

He answers with a growl so deep and primal it vibrates against my core.

“Taste so good, Mo Chroí ,” he rasps against my soaked heat. “Sunshine and wildflowers. You taste like mine.”

And then he’s sucking hard, lips wrapped around my clit, tongue flicking in time with the two thick fingers he thrusts inside my soaking, pulsing pussy.

Three strokes.

Three pumps.

That’s all it takes before I’m screaming, my climax ripping through me so fiercely I swear my soul leaves my body for a second.

I’m trembling, panting, gasping his name like a mantra, and when I finally open my eyes, he’s staring up at me, whiskey gold gaze glowing with the beast behind the man.

His Bull stares through him, wild and reverent and full of that same ruthless adoration that always leaves me wrecked.

Holy shit.

He’s so sexy, so fierce. But it’s the way he wants me that makes my legs shake.

Like I’m his purpose. Like there’s no greater glory than my pleasure.

“Can you stand?” he asks, voice hoarse, already helping lower me back down to my feet like I’m porcelain and fire all at once.

I nod, barely steady, and then he stands and spins me around.

My hands hit the wall.

His chest presses to my back.

And the heat of him wraps around me like a storm about to break.

He licks up my neck, his stubble scraping just enough to make my breath hitch.

Then he growls, low and deep, vibrating against my spine as he cages me in with his massive arms.

“ S o fucking hot for me, aren’t you, Mo Chroí ?” he rumbles, voice gone dark and hungry. “S’perfect. Just like this. Lean forward. Yeah, that’s it. Gonna fill you so fucking good.”

But he pauses. His hands roam.

Slow, reverent, smoothing down over my shoulders, down my sides.

Then they grip the hem of my T-shirt.

And without another word, he rips it.

“Need to see you. So fucking beautiful.”

The fabric tears like paper beneath his hands, and the raw sound of it makes my pussy clench, a fresh rush of slick soaking down my thighs.

Gods.

It’s the power in the act.

The unfiltered, unchecked way he handles me, with purpose and possession. But never with fear. Never with cruelty.

Just hunger.

Devotion.

He tosses the shredded shirt to the floor and leans in to kiss my spine, one hand sliding down between us to cup my sex again.

“So soft, so sweet. And mine, Arliss. Hear me? All mine.” His voice is velvet-wrapped gravel. “Gonna love you so good you forget anything, everything that came before me.”

And then I feel him.

He’s so big and hard. Velvety soft.

We both groan as he notches himself inside my pussy, then he flexes and slides all the way inside.

“Fuck,” he growls.

Thick, perfect, stretching me slowly and so very deep .

I cry out his name like it’s my salvation.

“Kian!”

And right here.

Right now.

Right up against the wall inside the log cabin we’re sharing, I believe it is.