Page 137 of Should Our Stars Collide
“You’re not a thing,” he says. “But youaremine.”
It’s a claim. A branding. Irrefutable proof of the darkness Kieran was wondering about. It’s close to the surface, so much closer than he’d thought.
And yet, instead of being freaked out, instead of looking for a way out, all he can think about is a resounding, desperate,Yes. I’m yours.
Maybe being owned so unapologetically, so toxically, is exactly what he needs.
He plops into Ash’s lap, buries a hand in his hair, and kisses him. No wavering, no hesitation, just this fucked up, perfect thing between them.
He pulls back, grinning at the dazed look in Ash’s eyes.
“I’m yours, huh?”
“You are,” Ash says, his voice brooking no argument.
“Prove it.”
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“Prove it.”
He nearly takes the words back. Because challenging Ash of all people? That can only go down one way, and Kieran might not be ready for it.
But ready or not, he needs this. Needs something he can cling to whenever doubts creep in.
He also needs to see Ash lose it. To stop being so fucking rational and reasonable. To stop treating Kieran like he’s gonna cave under the slightest pressure. Needs to prove to Ash that he can handle his crazy. Might even crave it.
Ash doesn’t move an inch. He’s turned into a statue, chest hardly moving when he breathes, staring at Kieran as if he can’t decide whether he’s being tested or not. For a man who loves control and bossing people around, he can get incredibly reserved when it comes to taking the things he wants.
Thankfully, Kieran is highly skilled at provoking him.
Hands curling into the collar of Ash’s shirt, he gives it a yank. “Are you having a stroke? I’m waiting.”
Predictably, Ash’s eyes narrow—a warning. He still doesn’t move.
“You couldn’t stop yammering about how I belong to you. I’m not seeing any action, though.”
Kieran’s really playing with fire now, but it’s working. He can feel a shift in the air, as if a bolt of lightning just rippled through the room,charging it with restless energy.
Or maybe it’s just him that’s restless.
“You gonna put your money where your mouth is? Or are you just that addicted to the sound of your own voice?”
That turns out to be the last straw. Ash surges up to take his lips in a punishing kiss. The fucker even bites him, drawing a half-pained, half-aroused gasp out of him.
“You’re right,” he whispers darkly against Kieran’s lips. “I can think of a better use for my mouth.”
With Kieran still in his lap, he stands up, turns around, and drops him on the bed, descending on him without warning. The kiss that follows is hungry and demanding, Ash’s tongue forcing his way inside Kieran’s mouth.Taking.Fucking finally.
He doesn’t ease into it like all the other times. His hands plunge under Kieran’s tee, tugging until Kieran has no choice but to lift his arms. The tee comes off together with the jumper, the collar catching under his chin.
“Hey, careful with the jumper,” Kieran complains. He might not be as attached to it as his future self, but that doesn’t mean he’s indifferent.
“I’ll make you a new one,” Ash growls dismissively, already working the button on Kieran’s jeans open.
Kieran almost laughs, trying to reconcile this unhinged, horny bastard currently pulling his pants off with the same man who sits on the sofa on a Sunday afternoon and agonizes over tangled yarn.
I love you.I love you, you jerk.
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