Page 88 of The Final Contract

When I finally collapse back against the table, chest heaving, I look down at him—his mouth slick, his eyes dark and burning into mine—and I know this isn’t just sex.

This is surrender. For both of us.

He rises from between my thighs and crashes his lips to mine like the kiss itself is giving him life. I taste my release on him, feel the desperation in the way his hands clutch at my face, and I can’t hold it in anymore.

I cup his cheeks, forcing him to see me, to hear me. “I love you too, Killian. I’ve fallen in love with you—so fucking hard I don’t ever want to stop falling.”

His breath stutters against my mouth, gray eyes wide, raw.

“I’ve been dragging myself through dinners, looking for a partner, looking for the one I thought I needed…” My voicebreaks, and I shake my head, a shaky laugh slipping out. “But he was here the whole time. You. It’s always been you. I just had to stop lying to myself.”

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, low and guttural, and kisses me again, deeper, fiercer, like he’ll never let me breathe without him. “I’ve been desperate to hear you say those words.”

“Bedroom,” I pant against his lips.

His answering growl vibrates through me.

“Now.”

I tug on his shoulders, pulling him with me down the hall, kissing him with every step until he picks me up and carries me the rest of the way. My legs are still trembling, my body still thrumming, but I don’t care. I push him back until he sits on the edge of the bed.

I drop to my knees, sliding my hands up his thighs until I’m at his zipper.

His breath hitches as I free him, his cock springing heavy and hot into my hand.

I look up at him through my lashes, my heart pounding. “I can’t wait another second to taste you, Killian Shaw.”

Then I take him into my mouth.

His head falls back with a groan, his fingers tangling in my hair instantly. I hollow my cheeks, stroking him with my lips, my tongue—every motion deliberate. Not just pleasure. Worship. My way of saying all the things words could never hold.

He curses low, his hips twitching when I tug on his piercing, watching him pant for me. “Christ, angel?—”

I take him deeper, until my throat closes around him, until my eyes water. He looks down, his face wrecked, and I want him to see it all—the tears, the need, the devotion.

I moan around him, one hand gripping his thigh, the other wrapping around the base of his cock, twisting in rhythm with my mouth. His groan rips through the room, primal, undone.

He tugs hard on my hair, his body shuddering as he fights control. “Fuck, Sera—don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

And I don’t. I can’t.

Because this isn’t about getting him off—it’s about answering him the only way I know how. With my lips, my tongue, my whole body bent to him. My confession given in gasps and moans, in devotion and surrender.

And if he ruins me for everything else, so be it. Because I’m his. Completely.

His grip tightens in my hair, his hips rolling shallow thrusts against my lips as if he can’t help himself. His voice is rough, unraveling.

“You love this, don’t you?” he rasps, breath coming harsh. “Being used by me. Taking every inch until your eyes water. Fuck—Sera?—”

I swallow him down, greedy for it, greedy for him. His thighs tense under my palms, his body shuddering.

“Gonna come down your throat,” he growls, broken and feral. “And you’re gonna drink every drop, angel.”

The warning is barely out before he jerks, groaning deep, guttural, as hot pulses of release hit the back of my throat. I don’t let a single drop escape, swallowing him, sucking until he twitches against my tongue and every last moan of ecstasy is wrung from him.

When I finally pull back, licking him clean, his chest is heaving, his gray eyes wild as they pin me in place.

“Greedy little killer,” he murmurs, voice wrecked.