The counter is cool beneath my palms, a sharp contrast to the heat coiling low in my belly.
Kieran stands between my legs like he belongs there—like the space was carved for him long before either of us understood why. His hands rest on my thighs, firm but reverent, thumbs pressing in just enough to remind me that I'm not imagining the way the air feels heavier around us.
He looks up at me.
Not the way males usually do.
There's no hunger without purpose in his gaze. No entitlement. What I see there is devotion—raw, steady, unflinching. As if kneeling in front of me isn't submission but home.
"You feel it too," he murmurs, voice low, roughened by something barely restrained. "The shift. The way everything… settled."
I swallow, my breath catching when his hands slide just a little higher. "We are in the kitchen Kieran," I give out a low gasp. "I feel… exposed."
A corner of his mouth lifts. Not a smirk. Something softer. Something dangerous.
"Good," he says quietly. "I want them all to know."
He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine, letting me feel the heat of him, the bulge in his pants, the strength held carefully in check. The bond hums—no longer frantic, no longer aching—but deep and resonant, like a promise finally spoken aloud.
"You don't have to carry it alone," he continues. "The crown. The weight. The fear." His thumbs trace my inner thighs slowly, grounding me, making circles. "Let me take something from you instead."
My pulse stutters.
"Kieran—"
He doesn't stop me with words.
He stops me with intent.
He slowly lands on folds. Tracing me with his fingers through the fabric of my lacy panties.
Thanks to Cameron and Mayla, I no longer own any granny panties and at this moment. I am grateful.
He moves the hem of my panties to the side, never taking his eyes from mine. Slowly ever so painfully slowly, he slightly hovers over an overly sensitive slit. I gasp. Unable to stop it. The sensation of his light touch almost brings me over the edge.
"Mmmh I can smell you," He takes a deep breath. "You smell delicious." Leaning in, giving me a light kiss, and pinching my clit I moan into his mouth. "How do you taste little wolf?"
My brain is completely melted. I am unable to answer, completely at his mercy.
He reaches for the hem of my panties and with one swipe, they are ripped off.
With a knowing smirk, he lowers himself just enough, that my breath hitches. With the way his grip tightens—not possessive, not demanding—but steady, anchoring. With the way his eyes never leave mine, as if whatever he's about to do isn't about pleasure alone but reverence.
"I serve my Queen," he says, voice threading through me like fire wrapped in velvet. "Let me remind you what that means."
As if they have a mind of their own, my legs spread for him. He grabs them and places them over his shoulder. I feel the warmth of his breath right at my core. My heart is pounding,racing, I'll be shocked if he can't hear it.
Without warning, he swipes his tounge up my center, landing on my most sensitive bulb. I squirm, arching my back, panting his name. He throws an arm over belly anchoring me down.
The bond flares, warm and consuming, curling through my spine and settling deep in my core. My hands clutch at the edge of the counter as sensation builds—not sharp, not rushed—but deliberate. Worshipful.
I gasp his name, my head tipping back despite myself.
"Fuck, Kieran."
He smiles.
He licks, sucks and nibbles all the right areas. I am completely broken by him.
The world narrows to sensation and breath.
To the steady presence of him between my knees, grounded and reverent, like this—like I am something sacred. My thoughts scatter, dissolve into warmth and awareness and the slow, overwhelming realization that I am safe enough to feel this deeply.
Every nerve seems awake, humming, answering his devotion with a trembling need I don't try to hide. Clutching the counter tighter, not to steady myself, but because the pleasure is too full, too consuming to hold quietly.
This isn't hunger.
It's surrender.
And for the first time, I don't feel afraid of it.
"Kieran! I… can't! Please!" I moan out in pants. " PLEASE… AHH!!"
And then the world narrows to breath, to heat, to the unspoken truth vibrating between us—
His tongue enters my entrance, I am undone. Screaming his name in the middle of the kitchens. Unable to control my body as the orgasm rips through me.
This isn't about dominance.
It isn't about power.
It's about trust.
I don't know when it happened but I know, he has my heart, my love and my trust.