6.
1482 Words
The kiss is a mistake he doesn't have time to regret.
One heartbeat she’s furious, breathing hard enough to shake, and in the next she’s on him—soft mouth, reckless heat, a collision he never saw coming.
Kai reacts before thought can interfere.
His hand finds her hair almost in disbelief, fingers curling at the base of her neck as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on.
Her gasp slips into his mouth, sweet and warm, and he swallows it like it’s something he’s been starving for. His other hand finds her cheek, thumb gliding along the slope of her jaw before guiding her chin upward, angling her perfectly for him.
Her body softens beneath him, a low sound slipping from her throat—half surrender, half disbelief as if she doesn’t understand why she wants this but can’t stop herself.
Kai isn’t any better. He didn't plan to kiss her let alone dominating her mouth like this. But planning evaporates the moment her lips part for him.
The first brush of her tongue against his is devastating.
Heat slams into his gut. His spine snaps tight. The taste of her hits him with a craving so sharp he nearly groans against her mouth.
"Focus."
That doesn't work.
Her palms skim up his arms, fingertips testing the lines of muscle, learning him by touch, unsure but drawn in anyway.
His focus shatters.
He lets out a rough sound into her mouth, not quite a word—just the truth of how badly she’s undoing him.
The sound makes her tremble, makes her press herself closer, breasts flattening against his chest, hips brushing his thigh in a way that spikes heat straight through him.
She’s breathing like she can’t get enough air.
He’s no better.
He gently grabs her wrists and guides them above her head again, pinning them to the mattress with one hand. The shift brings his thigh between hers, settling exactly where she’s already aching.
The second his thigh settles against her, her breath catches. She isn’t prepared for how much she needs that pressure.
Her hips move without thought, a soft, helpless grind against his thigh. The unsteady, almost embarrassed sound that falls from her nearly wrecks him.
Kai leans over her, breathing hard, forehead almost touching hers. She meets his gaze with eyes blown wide, pupils swallowing those pale-blue irises. There’s want in her eyes—raw, bewildered want—barely hidden under panic she can’t swallow down fast enough.
She doesn’t want him.
She shouldn’t want him.
But her body betrays her, and she knows it.
His thumb drifts down the column of her throat, tracing the thrum of her pulse. Her skin heats under his touch, her breath quickening.
His hand drifts lower, knuckles grazing the swell of her breast. She arches without meaning to, offering more. Her lips part on a shaky inhale as she tries to stop herself from begging—begging him or begging herself.
Kai swallows hard.
"Ask about the mark. Stop. Pull back. Don’t go further. Not with her like this. Not when you don’t even know who she is—"
Ivy doesn’t have a name for what she’s feeling, only the dizzy truth that nothing in her life has ever hit her this hard, this fast.
She pushes harder against his thigh, her fingers flexing above her head, aching to touch him. He almost lets her. Almost releases her wrists so she can dig her nails into his back, pull his hair, leave marks he'll feel for days.
Almost.
A loud knock shatters the moment.
They both freeze.
"Who—who’s out there?” she whispers, eyes widening as panic claws through whatever spell they were under.
Her hands instinctively tug against his grip, not to escape him, but to hide what she’s feeling.
Kai lifts his head, jaw ticking as he sorts the scents on the other side of the door.
Shit.
Jackson.
His erection. The smell of her on him. The flushed state she’s in. The fact she’s a stranger in their territory.
Jackson seeing this would be catastrophic.
Kai snaps upright, stepping back so fast he almost stumbles. He drags in a breath, forcing himself to think about cold water, broken bones, war—anything that isn’t Ivy Dalton grinding on his thigh.
Valor, unhelpful as ever, purrs in his head.
“We’re not done with her.”
Ivy scrambles off the bed, shaking fingers pushing through her hair. Her lips are kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed a deep rose she can’t hide, though she tries tugging the oversized shirt up her shoulder, smoothing fabric that refuses to fall modestly.
She darts a glance at Kai.
Just one.
It holds gratitude, fear, confusion and a molten expression she’s terrified to acknowledge.
The door swings open.
Jackson fills the doorway. He's a wall of muscle wrapped in tactical black, six-foot-three of coiled tension and barely restrained authority. His skin is deep bronze, scars threading across his knuckles. Blonde hair cropped military-short frames an all hard angles and perpetual suspicious face. His eyes are the color of burnt amber, alert.
Right now, those eyes are locked on Ivy.
She freezes mid-step, caught between the bed and the door.
Jackson fully steps inside, posture rigid, expression tight as he takes in the scene: Kai flushed and restless, Ivy’s disheveled state, the rumpled sheets, heavy scent of desire and passion makes his nostrils flare. The heat of what happened still clings to the room.
Something about her stops him. Her softness, the startled way she meets his stare, the impression she doesn’t belong anywhere near blood and war, yet somehow she’s landed right in the middle of it.
Ivy tries to smile. It comes out small and shy, barely there.
"Hi," she barely whispers before slipping past him like she’s afraid the floor will swallow her if she stays another second.
Jackson turns his head, tracking her movement down the hallway until she disappears around the corner.
Jackson drags a hand down his face, then turns slowly toward Kai. “What,” he says, voice low and shaking with effort, “have you done?”
Kai stands by the window, hands shoved in his pockets, expression carefully neutral. "Nothing that concerns you."
"Nothing?" Jackson's voice climbs. "The entire room reeks of s*x—"
"We didn't have sex."
“It concerns me.’” Jackson’s boots scrape against the floor as he steps closer, rage simmering under his skin. “You brought a stranger into our home while we’re surrounded by enemies, and you’re telling me you’ve done nothing?”
Kai’s expression doesn’t shift. He clearly has no intention of explaining.
That only makes Jackson explode.
"And you're standing there like you didn't just compromise everything we've been working toward!" Jackson stalks forward, fury radiating off him in waves. "Do you have any idea what you've done? For all you know she walked in here to ruin us, and you’re letting her get close enough to cut your throat!"
Kai doesn't respond. Doesn't explain. Doesn't defend himself. He just stares out the window at the tree line, jaw tight.
That silence ignites something in Jackson.
"Say something!" He slams his fist against the dresser. The wood groans. "We have enemies circling us from every direction. The council is already falling apart because of her—half of them want her gone, the other half want to know what she is. And you're up here making out with her like we're not one wrong move away from a war!"
Kai snorts, the sound dry and entirely too calm. “She’s not a spy.”
"You don't know that."
"I know enough." Kai finally turns, meeting Jackson's gaze head-on. "She needs protection. She needs to stay alive. That's all that matters."
Jackson's laugh is bitter, disbelieving. "Protection? From what? We don't even know who she is! And now she's—" He cuts himself off, dragging a hand over his face. When he speaks again, his voice cracks with frustration. "I'm uncomfortable with her being here, Kai. She's a distraction you can't afford."
"I can handle it."
"Can you?" Jackson's eyes burn. "Because from where I'm standing, you're already compromised. She needs to leave. Today. Before you do something that ruins everything."
Kai's expression hardens. “She leaves today,” Jackson insists. “She has to. You can’t let her distract you, not when you’re this close."
Kai doesn’t look away. He just lifts one brow, unbothered. “You don't call the shots here.”
Jackson began pacing, hands in his hair. "Then you're throwing away ten years of your life!" Jackson's control shatters. The words pour out. "Ten years, Kai. Ten years since your own father sent you out to earn the right to come home, and you’ve clawed your way back from nothing. Don’t throw it away now.”
- Writer
