Reject me twice (Kira and Theron) novel Chapter 37

His fingers were still inside me, and the world hadn’t stopped spinning.

I was gasping, trembling, every nerve ending screaming with aftershocks that wouldn’t cease.

My back was still arched off the mat, my legs still locked around his waist, and Malik was watching me with an expression so raw, so completely unguarded, that it made my chest ache.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured against my ear, and I felt him harden again against my stomach—

You drive me crazy, Kira. Do you know that?” He continued—the impossible evidence of his wanting, his need, the desperation he’d kept locked down for so long finally breaking free.

I wrapped my fingers around him, and the sound he made—guttural, wrecked, his hips jerking into my grip—was the most powerful thing I’d ever heard.

“Show me,” I whimpered as I gazed into his eyes. “Show me how much I drive you crazy.”

And he did.

He pulsed and throbbed against my palm, the dampness at his tip telling me he was as desperate as I was, and when I guided him to my entrance and rolled my hips upward, the first brush of him against my slick folds made us both curse.

“We should stop,” he breathed, his voice destroyed beyond any composure he’d ever worn. “Someone could see us. It wouldn’t be better for any of us.”

“Let them see. I don’t care. So shouldn’t you,” I whispered, and locked my legs around his waist.

He sank into me in one long, devastating stroke. I cried out—couldn’t help it, didn’t try—because the stretch of him filling me completely, the impossible fullness.

“Ah—Malik!” I moaned, harder than I intended.

The way my body opened and clenched and molded around him like we’d been designed to fit together sent pleasure crashing through me in waves that stole thought and breath and everything that wasn’t him inside me.

His jaw locked, tendons standing out in his neck, a sound tearing from his throat that was half groan and half my name.

His fingers dug into my hip hard enough to bruise as he fought for control he was already losing.

He moved, and the world ceased to exist beyond the place where our bodies joined.

Deep, rolling thrusts that hit something devastating inside me with every stroke, building a rhythm my body answered like an instinct written into my blood.

I rose to meet him, hips matching his pace, and the slick sounds of our bodies coming together filled the training hall alongside our ragged breathing and the broken sounds neither of us could contain.

I traced the scars on his chest while he stroked my hair with fingers that trembled. The lattice of silver lines caught the low light, and I pressed my lips to the one below his collarbone—earned during the blood trials, protecting me—and felt his arm tighten around me like letting go would kill him.

“I love you,” I said, simple and true and wholly inadequate for the enormity of what I felt—but it was all I had. The most powerful weapon I owned against a world that wanted him taken from me.

His hand stilled in my hair. Then resumed, gentle as a whisper. “I love you, Kira. And I choose you—whatever happens, whatever the court demands, whatever impossible choices they force on us. I choose you. Every single time.”

I pressed closer, his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek, and held those words like armor.

We would need them. The storm was gathering beyond these walls—a kingdom that wouldn’t bend, a reckoning coming for everything we’d built in secret.

But not tonight. Tonight we were just two people who’d found each other against every odd, and that was enough.

It had to be.