Page 78 of Velvet Chains

“Stop,” she said, no conviction in her voice.

“No,” I said. “Tell me to stop like you want me to stop.”

“Shut up,” she said, panting. “Take your fucking clothes off.”

I froze for a beat, blood roaring in my ears. Then I moved.

She watched me like she was daring me not to—eyes dark and glassy, breath coming fast. I pulled my shirt over my head, and her gaze dragged down my chest, sharp and hot and hungry. My hands fumbled at my belt, and for a second I thought I might actually lose it before I even got my pants off.

Ruby stripped off her hoodie in one smooth motion, yanking her tank top off along with it and tossing both to the floor. She stood there—bare from the waist up, skin flushed, lips parted, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.

Jesus Christ. She was beautiful.

Her hair was messy, cheeks red, and there was still that flash of defiance in her eyes, like this was war, not surrender.

“You’ve been thinking about this,” I said, voice rough, my fingers finding the waistband of her leggings.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

But she didn’t stop me.

I knelt and dragged them down her legs. Her thighs trembled just slightly as I peeled them off. And then—fuck. She was soaked. Slick and hot and already pulsing against my fingers.

“Fuck, Ruby.”

She slapped my chest. Not hard. Just enough to snap my eyes back to hers. “Stop talking.”

“Why?” I asked, curling two fingers through her folds, dragging them slow, deep. “You like it when I talk.”

She shuddered.

“Youloveit when I tell you how wet you are. When I tell you how much I fucking need you.”

Her head dropped back, a moan caught in her throat. “I hate you.”

“You hate how good I make you feel,” I said, kissing down her neck, then lower. “You want to do this in your bed? Or do you just want me to drop to my knees here?”

“I don’t—”

“Okay. I’ll make the decision for you,” I said, getting to my knees. “But you could have offered a pillow for my knees first.”

“Kieran, shut up,” she said.

Before she could say anything else, my tongue was on her clit, insistent and fast. She was soaked and I loved eating her out, I was already hard as fuck and this was only getting me harder, and the taste of her was the only thing I had been craving for weeks.

She let out a sharp, involuntary cry, bracing herself against the counter, legs trembling as I locked my arms around her thighs to keep her right where I wanted her.

“God, fuck—Kieran—” she gasped, already falling apart, already trying to fight it.

I didn’t let up.

I knew her body too well. Knew the rhythm she hated me for finding. Knew exactly how much pressure made her hips jerk and her mouth go slack. I sucked her clit harder, then gentler, then again—teasing her with the edge of it, until she was whimpering and shaking and grabbing fistfuls of my hair like she wanted to push me away and grind me closer all at once.

“You’re gonna come like this,” I said, voice low and filthy between licks. “On my mouth. On your kitchen counter. And then I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget you hate me.”

“Fuck you,” she whispered—and then she broke.

Her legs locked around my shoulders, her whole body tensing, a sob caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan as she came, hips rocking against my mouth like she couldn’t stop herself. Her knees gave out as she tried to stay upright, but she was already sinking.