Page 21 of Illicit Games


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There’s only the sound of my feet as I stroll deeper into the dimly lit apartment. Goosebumps riddle over my arms the second I see Kian in the drawing room.

Sitting on the middle of the couch with his legs evenly spread, head lowered and hands steepled, he stares at the floor. The jacket and tie are gone, the crisp white shirt is stretching over his broad and tightly wound shoulders, and his cut arms are testing the confines of the fabric.

The tether that binds us together draws his attention to me.

Our eyes lock across the room.

His angular face is impassive and hard. For the first time, I can’t get a read on him over the terrifying roar of my heart beating. He stares intensely and silently, making me weak in the knees and rooting my feet to the spot.

I swallow before stuttering, “K-Kian.”

He pushes to his feet.

“Please let me expla—”

He bridges the gap between us before the words are out of my mouth and slams his lips on mine.

I become frozen, thinking it’s a figment of my imagination.

It has to be a dream.

This isn’t the appropriate response to finding out that the girl he moved into his home has been stalking and secretly pining for him for three years.

But then his lips softly glide over my top one, gently nipping it between his. Sucking deep, he lets go and brushesthem against the tingling spot. I moan low when he repeats the same to my bottom lip.

It’s as if he’s slowly bringing me back to life.

Dizzy and swaying, I stretch on my toes and grip his biceps.

The gentleness implodes into a savage hunger.

Gripping my hair hard, he tugs my head back and deepens the kiss. Pleasure grips my bones as he licks the seam of my lips before plundering his tongue inside, thorough in his tasting.

I’m disoriented.

Floating on a cloud of lust.

Utterly confused.

An alarming thought comes… is this a goodbye kiss? The possibility vanishes when he walks us backward and presses my back against the wall. Hands roam along my sides before locking around my waist, picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist.

I cling to him, tugging at his collar so I can touch his skin underneath.

He’s never kissed me this aggressively.

Punishingly and passionately in one breath.

He quietens my overthinking brain until I can barely string together a thought. I surrender to him as he dominates all of my senses. Feeling my body go lax, allowing him to mold it however he wishes, his lips become softer.

Pinning me against the wall with his hips between my thighs, calloused hands grasp my face and he suck my lips one by one.

When he finally lets me up for air, I want to drown in his mouth again as petrifying scenarios return. It’s not until I meet his gray eyes, overwrought by the adoring and reverent light in them, that my tense body relaxes a little.

“You’re not… mad?”

“Iamfucking mad,” he thunders. My heart shatters. “You’ve been a shitty fucking stalker, Rainbow. The cutest, most breathtaking one to ever exist, but terrible.”

“What?” I gasp.