My God, she was going to be the end of me.
But I should’ve known. Of course the end of me would start here—with her body, with her heat, with the mess we made and the way she took me like she had every right to. There was nothing soft or sweet about it—just the raw grind of her hips and that high, broken whimper when I pushed deep. Hard and long, like I was trying to brand it into her. Like she hadn’t already ruined me completely.
I tipped her chin up with one hand, fingers gripping, mouth at her throat. The pressure was obscene. The slide infinite. My balls were tight and aching, the coil building so fast I knew I couldn’t last. Didn’t want to.
“Say it again,” I rasped into her mouth. “Just once. Lie to me.”
“I hate you,” she whispered.
I growled. “You’re so fucking hot when you lie.”
She moaned, clenching around me, and I lost it. Thrust harder. Deeper. I pulled her flush, hips slamming into hers with bruising force, the kind you feel the next day and the one after that.
The room went still except for us—the slap of skin, the ragged breath, the frantic, filthy rhythm of need. Her gasps were getting too loud, too close to unraveling.
I covered her mouth with my hand, half a joke, half deadly serious.
“The neighbors’ll hear,” I said, eyes locked on hers. “Ex-DA Moans for Gangster. Imagine the headline.”
She bit my palm.
I fucked her harder.
The world narrowed, everything dropping away except for this—her body, my name in her mouth, the unstoppable way she wrapped around me like she’d never let go.
“Oh God, Kieran—”
“I know. Fuck, I know. Come with me. Come now.”
The sun went white. The air left my lungs. I emptied myself into her, coming hard and deep and mine, as she shattered beneath me—together, violent, perfect.
It felt like everything we were and everything we weren’t allowed to be.
And when the world finally crawled back into focus, I let my hand slide gently from her mouth. Brushed the sweat-damp hair off her cheek.
She was flushed, dazed, beautiful.
Ruined.
And she was never going to get away from me again.
We stayed like that until the light changed, until our breath slowed and our heartbeats faded to a comfortable pulse. I didn’t want to get off her, but I knew I should. A dozen different plans rushed through my mind, but none of them involved getting the fuck off of her and out of here. And I didn’t care.
I rolled to my side, pulling her with me, wrapping around her and not letting go.
“Give me a few weeks? We’ll leave. Just you and me and Rosie.”
She stiffened.
“I know you’re gonna say no, but think about it. It’s safer that way.” I pulled back to look at her, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Okay?”
“Kieran…” She paused, her voice careful–and I realized she was fucking afraid of how I would react. “My daughter doesn’t know you.”
I stayed quiet, jaw tense, but I didn’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.
“I know you like this idea,” she continued, “of sweeping me off my feet and disappearing into some fairy tale where none of this ever happened, but—Rosie has alife. Astable,carefully constructedlife. With routines and friends and a school she loves.”
“She’s not even ten,” I said. “She doesn’t need routine—she needs to besafe.”
