Chapter One Hundred & Fourteen

Chapter One Hundred & Fourteen
Killian's P.O.V

If anything, it made me slow down more—more deliberate, more focused—until every shift, every breath, every small reaction from her felt amplified.

“You feel that?” I murmured against her skin, voice rough, controlled in a way that barely held.

Her answer wasn’t words.

Her back arched again, her grip tightening, a broken sound slipping past her lips that told me everything I needed to know.

I kissed her inner thigh, soft and deliberate, tasting the faint salt of her skin. Then I slid two fingers inside her, slow at first, my mouth joining—sucking, licking, coaxing her open. 

“Killian—”

My name broke from her lips, jagged and uneven, a plea wrapped in surrender.

Her fingers tightening, holding me there like she didn’t want even an inch of distance, her breath coming faster now, losing that control piece by piece.

I didn’t stop.

I let out a slow breath against her, the sound rough, controlled, before I lifted my head just enough to look up at her again.

She was already looking down at me.

Eyes blown wide, unfocused, lips parted like she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

That sight alone hit harder than anything else.

“Nora,” I said quietly.

Her answer came out strained. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

A faint smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth, but there was nothing light about it.

“Wasn’t planning to.”

I rose in one smooth motion, my hand sliding up her waist, pulling her forward until she was right at the edge of the desk, until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between us.

She gasped softly at the shift, her hands finding my shoulders this time, gripping tight as I leaned in, my mouth brushing hers—close enough to feel, not enough to satisfy.

Teasing.

Dragging it out.

Her breath hitched again. “Killian…”

“Yeah,” I murmured, barely a whisper against her lips. “Say it.”

Her fingers tightened, her body leaning into mine instead of away, chasing the contact I hadn’t fully given her yet.

“I need you,” she said, softer now—but there was nothing uncertain about it.

Her hands found my belt, fingers working it open with a kind of urgency that matched the way she was breathing now.

I helped her, not slowing her down, pushing things forward instead of holding back. My shoes were kicked off somewhere behind me, forgotten the second they left my feet.

She didn’t stop touching me.

My hands moved to her, gripping, pulling her closer before sliding up, catching the edge of her shirt and dragging it up and off in one smooth motion. It hit the floor without either of us looking.

I slid myself through her wetness, lining up, then thrusting into her—hard. It ripped a moan from her throat. “Killian…”

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” I rasped, one hand fisting her hair to yank her head back, exposing her throat. She gasped, arching into the pull, her pulse hammering under my mouth as I bit down—not gentle, marking her.

she bucked up to meet every brutal drive, her moans turning to broken cries.

“That’s it,” I said against her skin, releasing her hair only to slap her thigh—sharp, stinging—watching the red bloom under my palm. “Take it. All of me.”

“More,” she demanded, voice wrecked, eyes green and locked on mine.

The desk screeched, sliding an inch across the floor.

I obliged, pinning her hips down with my weight, slamming deep enough to steal her breath. Sweat dripped from my brow onto her chest; her body clenched around me, trembling on the edge.

“Come for me,” I ordered, thumb finding her clit, circling rough and relentless. “Now.”

She shattered—head thrown back, a raw scream tearing free, her walls pulsing like a vise. It dragged me under too, the pressure snapping as I buried myself deeper, flooding her, our bodies locked in shuddering release.

We collapsed together, breaths ragged, the desk mercifully intact. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on my back, a smirk tugging her lips despite the marks we’d left on each other.

A quiet huff of a laugh slipped out of me, low in my chest. “Desk survived.”

“Barely,” she murmured, that smirk still there, lazy and a little smug.

I shook my head, stepping back just enough to pull my shirt back on, the moment settling around us without losing its edge. She moved slower, more deliberate, like she wasn’t in a rush to let it go—but she did, sliding off the desk and fixing herself with the same calm control she carried into everything else.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

The room still held it—the heat, the tension, everything we’d just burned through.

Then reality slipped back in.

The attack. The Order. The fact that none of this was over.

I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled. “Alright,” I said, voice steadier now. “We both need to shower.”

Her eyes flicked up to mine, still sharp, still focused—but softer than before.

“And then we find Leo,” she added.

I nodded once.

There was a beat of silence, then she stepped closer again—not heated this time, not charged—just close enough to brush her hand lightly against mine.

“I meant what I said,” she said quietly. “I’m not going anywhere without telling you.”

I looked at her, holding that for a second.

“I know.”

Another beat.

Then I stepped back, opening the door, letting the cooler air of the hallway cut through what was left of the moment.

“Go,” I said. “Before I change my mind about letting you leave this room.”

Her smirk returned, quick and dangerous.

I watched her go for half a second longer than necessary.

Then followed.

Because the night wasn’t over.

Not even close.

We met in the living room after our showers, the estate quieter now, the chaos of earlier pushed back behind reinforced walls and armed guards.

She came in first.

Hair still damp, falling in dark waves down her back, a fitted tank top clinging just enough, shorts low on her hips, bare feet silent against the floor as she crossed the room like she belonged in every space she stepped into.

Leo was already there, stretched out along the couch, one arm draped over the back, eyes closed like he was resting—but I knew better.

He always knew.

He didn’t move when she got closer.

Didn’t open his eyes.

Not until—

She dropped straight into his lap.

“Hi,” she said, like she hadn’t just invaded his space completely.

Leo’s hands found her hips instantly, like instinct took over before thought even had a chance. His grip tightened just slightly, anchoring her there as his eyes opened.

Red.

Still burning.

She laughed softly at the sight of it.

“Oh,” she said, tilting her head slightly, studying him. “You felt me, didn’t you?”

His gaze locked onto hers, unblinking.

“Always,” he said.

Her smile shifted—less teasing now, more aware of what that meant.

The bond between them pulsed, subtle but constant. I could feel it from across the room, like standing too close to something charged.