My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 341

Chapter 341: Chapter 341 CAREFUL

KIERAN’S POV

Timing was quickly becoming an enemy.

I cursed it now as Sera’s breaths came uneven beneath me, her hands braced against my chest, her eyes dark with want she was refusing for reasons that both made sense and infuriated me in equal measure.

“I’m not trying to make this harder,” she said softly, as if reading the war etched into every line of my body. “I want you. Goddess, Kieran, I do. But right now...we have to be careful.”

Careful.

The word scraped against every frayed nerve.

I forced myself to still, my forehead dropping to hers, breath hot and restrained.

“You have a terrible habit,” I muttered, “of being right at the worst possible moments.”

A small, breathless laugh escaped her. “You love it.”

I did.

I loved her mind. Her foresight. The way she saw three steps ahead while still standing firmly in the present.

And hearing her say she wanted me sent something fierce and hungry swelling in my chest.

I remembered the last time I’d let her go after a heated moment, remembered the way Ashar had berated me.

‘You should’ve been bolder,’ he’d chided. ‘You shouldn’t have stopped. Even if you were going to let her go, you should have given her an experience she’d never forget. Something she’d think about every night she was away. A memory burned into her skin, so nothing else could compete.’

He stirred now. ‘Are you going to make the same mistake again?’

Fuck no.

I straightened slowly, pulling just enough space between us to breathe again. “Fine,” I said gruffly. “No traces.”

Relief flickered across Sera’s face—followed by surprise when my hands didn’t leave her.

“That,” I added, voice low, deliberate, “doesn’t mean I’m letting you go untouched.”

Her breath caught.

I kissed her then—not hurried, not rough, but devastatingly thorough. As if I had all the time in the world to remind her exactly who she belonged to.

My mouth traced her jaw, her throat, lingering where her pulse pounded a frantic, uneven rhythm.

“Kieran,” she whispered my name like a prayer. “What are you doing?”

“Being careful,” I murmured, my lips skimming her collarbone. “I won’t leave a trace—at least not one that can be sensed.”

Her breath hitched, and the sound sent a jolt of electricity that branched through my entire being and pooled in my groin.

I felt the desire everywhere—tight and aching and demanding—and it took every shred of discipline I had not to push us straight past the line she’d drawn.

Instead, I let my hands guide us downward, slow and deliberate, until she was seated back against the table, palms braced behind her, eyes already glassy with anticipation.

“Look at you,” I murmured, dragging my knuckles along her thigh, reveling in the way she shivered beneath my touch. “Trying to be sensible while your body betrays you.”

“Kieran,” she warned again, but there was no real protest left in it—only breath, only heat.

I answered by sinking to my knees.

The movement drew a sharp gasp from her, her fingers curling instinctively in my hair as I looked up at her from below.

The sight nearly undid me—her flushed skin, parted lips, the way she was already trembling as if she knew exactly where this was going.

I slid my hands along her thighs, pushing her skirt up till I got to her hips. My thumbs traced slow arcs on her hip bone, making her shift restlessly.

“Still want me to stop?” I asked quietly.

Her head tipped back, throat exposed as she gasped, “No.”

That was all the permission I needed.

I rose again and kissed my way down her body, unhurried, reverent, pausing just long enough at each place I knew would make her breath stutter.

She sucked in air sharply when I lifted her shirt and pressed a kiss to her stomach, her fingers tightening in my hair.

“Goddess,” she whispered, voice breaking.

I smiled against her feverish skin.

It had never been like this between us. Every sexual encounter had been mechanical. Functional.

But never again.

When I said I would learn everything about her, I meant everything—from her favorite song to all the sounds she made and all the ways her face contorted in the throes of pleasure.

I took my time removing what little barrier remained between us, my touch deliberate and unrushed, because I wanted her to be aware of every second of it.

Wanted her to feel the anticipation coil tighter and tighter until she was shaking with it.

Her back arched as I slid her panties off, and I bit back a groan as her scent filled the air, warm and sweet and wanting.

I had to pause, the damp lace material bunched in my fist as I struggled to reorient myself, to hold back the monster that wanted to surge forward and ravage.

I leaned over her and took her lips in mine again, slower this time, deeper, letting the kiss linger until her breath turned rough and uneven against my mouth.

My hand slid between us, not rushing, not demanding—just enough pressure, just enough contact to make her gasp into the kiss.

Her body responded instantly, arching closer, every inch of her aware of exactly where I was touching her.

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