Bound by the Cracked Moon: The Moonsblood Heiress

The penthouse was silent except for the wet slap of skin and Eloisa’s broken moans. Kieran Vierek had her bent over the back of the massive leather couch, one powerful hand fisted in her long dark hair while the other gripped her hip hard enough to bruise. He f****d her like a man possessed. Deep, ruthless strokes that made her toes curl and her vision blur. Every thrust pushed her forward, her breasts dragging against the cool leather as she cried out. “f**k… Kieran— f**k you!” He growled low against her ear, the sound vibrating through her chest. He barely said a word. Just raw need. He pulled her up until her back was pressed against his chest, never breaking rhythm. One arm banded across her breasts, the other sliding up to pinch her n*****s while he drove into her harder. Eloisa shattered. Her walls clenched around him as pleasure ripped through her like lightning. Kieran didn’t stop. He rode her through it, his teeth grazing her neck and hips snapping until he buried himself to the hilt and came with a deep, guttural groan. Filling her. For several long minutes, the only sound was their ragged breathing. Eloisa’s body trembled with aftershocks. She hated how good it felt. She hated how perfectly he filled her, how her body sang for him even when her mind screamed that this was wrong. Kieran pressed soft, almost reverent kisses along her shoulder, his hand gently stroking her breasts. The ruthless Lycan Don of New York. The man who made alphas kneel with a single look became strangely tender the moment he was inside her. It was infuriating. He finally softened enough to slip out of her. Without a word, he lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the enormous bed. He laid her down like she was made of glass, then pulled her against his chest, spooning her possessively. His nose brushed the back of her neck as he breathed her in. Eloisa stared at the glittering Manhattan skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows, trying to ignore the warmth spreading in her chest. Five months. She had known Kieran Vierek for only five months. He had hired her as his executive assistant four months ago after spotting her in a Midtown coffee shop. Three months ago, after one explosive heat night that left her ruined and marked, he had forced her into this contract marriage. She had laughed in his face at first, and told him he was out of his mind. He was the most dangerous man in New York. He was cold, ruthless and untouchable. He hadn’t raised his voice. He simply slid the contract across his desk and waited. When she still refused, he made it very clear what would happen to her life if she walked away. So she signed. And now here she was. Mrs. Eloisa Vierek, still his quiet executive assistant, living in his penthouse at the top of Vale Consolidated Tower. Her hand drifted up to the silver necklace resting against her collarbone. It felt warmer than usual tonight. The metal seemed to pulse faintly against her skin. No matter what happens, Eloisa… never take the necklace off. Her parents’ final words before they were murdered when she was twelve. She had obeyed for fourteen years. Until that heat night three months ago when Kieran had yanked it off in his frenzy. Ever since, the necklace hadn’t felt the same. Sometimes it burns. Sometimes she swore she saw tiny cracks forming. Kieran’s arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. His large hand settled over her lower belly again, stroking in slow, absent circles. In these quiet moments after s*x, the silent, terrifying Alpha became almost… soft. Cute, even. The thought made her want to laugh and scream at the same time. This was the same man who could order someone’s death with a single nod. Yet with her, he touched her like she was the only thing keeping him human. Eloisa closed her eyes, annoyed at herself. She shouldn’t enjoy this. She shouldn’t crave the way he looked at her, like she was his entire world. She shouldn’t melt when he got possessive and quiet and hopelessly obsessed. But she did. Every single time. “You’re thinking too loud again,” Kieran murmured against her hair, his voice rough and low. He rarely spoke much, but when he did with her, it carried weight. “I’m allowed to think,” she whispered back. “You forced me into this, remember?” He pressed a kiss to her nape. No denial. No apology. Just acceptance. Like her anger was something he was willing to endure as long as she stayed in his arms. Eloisa turned in his embrace to face him. Kieran’s ice-blue eyes were already watching her, intense and unblinking. The silver streaks in his dark hair gleamed under the low lights. He looked every bit the powerful billionaire mafia don, yet the way he looked at her, like he was memorizing every detail made her stomach flutter. She hated how much she liked it. Her hand moved to his chest, tracing one of the tattoos there. “You’re dangerous, Kieran. You know that, right?” His lips curved the tiniest bit, the closest he ever came to a real smile. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles with surprising gentleness. “Possibly. ” he said simply. As if that explained everything. Eloisa wanted to argue. She wanted to remind him that she had a life in Astoria with Mira. That she never asked for any of this. But her body was still humming from how thoroughly he had f****d her, and a secret, terrifying part of her was starting to feel safe here. Too safe. Her fingers brushed the necklace again. The warning from her parents echoed in her head. She had broken their rule once. Something inside her had stirred that night and that scared her more than Kieran ever could. Kieran noticed her distraction. He reached out and gently adjusted the necklace, his thumb brushing the faint scar beneath it. He didn’t know its true meaning. To him, it was just jewelry she refused to remove. But the way he touched it, carefully, almost protectively, made her chest ache. A sharp vibration broke the silence. Her phone was ringing on the nightstand. Eloisa tensed. Very few people had this number now. Kieran had made sure of that. She glanced at the screen. Mira Kieran’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t stop her when she slipped from his arms. He simply watched her with that quiet, lovesick gaze as she grabbed his discarded shirt and pulled it over her naked body. “I’ll be quick,” she said softly. She padded barefoot across the luxurious floor toward the massive bathroom, closing the door behind her. The moment she was alone, she answered the call. “Hello?”