96. It's Something 🍋

*I feel like I’m about to lose my mind*
*You know so many little things that get to me*
*And somehow that just turns me on*
*Do you ever see how sexy you look*
*When we yell and scream at each other?*
*Nobody wants war in the nighttime*
*Who really wants war in the fight?*
*We should just calm down and fuck sometime*
*Every time, I lose you in my mind*
*Just lose control*
*Stop wasting time*
*My body’s yours*
*And your body’s mine*
*Unleash your soul*
*You feel like you’re about to lose your mind*
*I wanna hate you for the things you say to me*
*But I just don’t know how*
- …*fuck*, Johnny Rain
_____
Kiran had taken some of his Omegas in the pool or showers before, but their skill was always lacking. They left him dazed and aching from the power of ruts and heats, but he found that the remnants of his desire were stale and still begging for more—for *better*.
Selene wasn’t performing her best; she was letting him push her around like a foul-mouthed doll. But *gods*, just her slick skin sticking to his was making his core pound. Her judging of his length, the near-falling asleep, her offering of the significance of the apple blossom soap… His teasing and making her angry, pushing her into the pool, turning on the freezing water…
It all made him feel *alive*. His mind and body were buzzing with the need to just… keep doing things to her—*with* her.
*How am I supposed to hate her when I all want to do is make love to her?*
*“Why are you making me feel so undone?”* she had asked. *“It’s something else.”*
Kiran considered the desperation in her tone. So she felt something…*more*…too?
He started to think what that something could be—and then shook his head. “No,” he said, trying to convince her as well as himself. “Just distraction.”
He emphasized that by irritating her again: insulting her hair. It was true that he thought it was too long—but he also liked how silky it felt between his fingers.
Hers were scraping shallow gouges in his back. He hated it and it felt so good. “Have me as I am ie don’t have me at all.”
Kiran felt like Selene threw him into an inescapable fire. His body was set ablaze and he imagined the water sizzling into steam off their skin.
It incited a growl deep in his chest, making a little gasp sneak between her lips. He mashed his to them as if he could swallow the sound. “Will you have me?” he panted, his mind and body frenzying. He was starting to forget his own name.
Her tongue swept inside his mouth and she was rolling her hips, begging for him. When he forced himself to break the kiss to look at her, her eyes were closed in want, though she moaned in protest at his retraction.
“Selene,” he rasped.
Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused. “Kiran,” she rasped back.
Water drops clung to her dark lashes like diamonds, trailing down her nose or cheeks, lapped up by the tip of her tongue when they reached her lips.
Kiran’s heart picked up the longer he stared, taking in the dusky, icy features he knew as well as his own. He always took her in with a haze of heightened annoyance or choosing to blur her face away entirely to convince himself he wasn’t fucking his enemy. Selene Hilal was obnoxious and untamed and desirable and infinitely stubborn. Every interaction they had took no time for her to irk him. How many times he wanted to shake her into silence.
Selene wasn’t his type. She was too skinny, not curvy enough. If she was an Omega she would have trouble bearing a full litter of pups. Her face was too angular, always puckered with resentment at him and the rest of the damn world that fucked them over.
But he had seen her happy before—with Calla. Her eyes and smile alit when the Magnolia walked into the room, or even when she only spoke about her.
Kiran was the cause of Selene’s eternal unhappiness and she would never forgive him.
When he spoke her name again, “Selene,” his voice was all but a hoarse whisper, just shy of a brokenhearted croak.
Her gaze cleared, sharpening into something soft. “Kiran?” she murmured, and he sensed her come to a similar kind of understanding, as if able to follow his thoughts.
His hands were still gripping the undersides of her thighs, fingers pressed into the flesh of her backside. He felt like he was holding the weight of all his guilt, regret, anger, fear. In this body of ice and night and the prowess of an Alpha werewolf. It felt like he was holding his future.
“It’s something else,” he repeated.
She searched his face as if seeking some kind of answer. Her hands moved to stroke his stubbled jaw, thumbs catching the water rivulets. Under the battering of the shower stream, he heard her heart slamming against her ribs.
He didn’t know the full limit of her intelligence and cunning, but he was certain she figured it out long before him. She whispered, “A something we can’t come back from?”
Kiran nodded imperceptibly and she pursed her lips as if he confirmed a suspicion. “What are you thinking?”
She seemed to not want to speak at all. Maybe it was the distraction of his rut just making him overthink. But none of his ruts in the past one hundred years made him think with his head and not his cock.
“What are you doing to me?” he asked her softly.
For once, Selene Hilal had nothing to say.
No, she had *everything* to say and was too afraid of the truth to say any of it aloud.
She could only shake her head; he couldn’t tell the difference between the shower water and tears.
“What the fuck is wrong with us?” was his next rasped question.
Everything she was holding back forced out a laugh from that beautiful throat, thick with restraint. “Where should we start?”
Kiran mentally shook his head. *Beautiful*? He could draw his focus away from her sensuous mouth to convince himself to deny it. *Sensuous?! Oh, for fuck’s sake*, he swore violently at himself.
He watched them form and speak the words, “I’m sorry.”
It was a trigger to finally set her down and turn off the shower. His back still pressed to the wall, he slammed his hand next to her head. She didn’t flinch. “What for?” he growled, a myriad of things making him suddenly explode. “I don’t need any damn apologies.”
“You have always *wanted* one from me,” she said solemnly. *Oh gods, the look in her eyes*… It made Kiran hate himself even more than he thought he could.
He dropped his arm and turned his back to her. He thought about asking how she liked the perfect view of his ass but decided it was not the best timing. “There are plenty of things I’ve wanted from you, Selene,” he spoke to the empty shower stalls.
“Like?”
“Like…”
How did he want to approach this? With sexual charm or appropriate seriousness? What did she want? She expected him to be raunchy, and—
Her hand smoothed up and over his shoulder, turning him around gently, her gaze and beautiful mouth equally soft. *Gods I hate you. Gods I hate me*. “How about we forget this emotional shit for now and just fuck each other as we agreed?”
Relief washed through him. “We’re not meant for emotional shit.”
Selene snorted and shook her head, easing her arms around his torso to draw their chests together. “No. We aren’t meant for a ‘something else.’” The look in her gaze became hooded, hands and eyes roaming his body. Quick as a darting snake, she grabbed his cock, her tongue sliding over her teeth. “Just focus on oblivion.”
She rekindled the heat in his veins. Like for like: her body wanted him, and he wanted to be inside her until they couldn’t remember they were supposed to hate each other.
“Fuck me, Kiran Cyrus,” Selene breathed against his skin.
There was a roaring in his good ear. Crushing her against him so he could grind his hard length between her legs, he growled, “Say my name again, night goddess.”
“Kiran,” she moaned into his mouth as he pinned her against the wall. “Take me, gold god.”
With his foot he turned the shower back on, gripping under Selene’s thigh to hike her leg on his hip bone. His tip nudged her entrance and their bodies synched in their movements until he was inside her. Kiran didn’t wait to buck his hips, slamming his length between her walls until he was completely buried.
A sharp gasp dragged between her lips, every muscle clenching at his force. “Don’t ask if I’m okay,” she panted.
“Wasn’t going to.” Kiran buried his nose between the juncture of her neck and shoulder, her musky Alpha scent not lost in the muggy air. His teeth scraped across her skin, trailing deep, hungry kisses up to her jaw. Her neck was craned to grant him access as her hands kept roaming, kept scratching, her whimpers timed with his thrusts.
Release was barreling toward him too soon, too fast. Grumbling with frustration, he hoisted her up with both legs resting on his waist so he could lay her down on one of the chaises. She didn’t protest and adjusted without hesitation. He reared up, still rolling his hips, to eat the sight of her with his eyes.
Her arms were raised above her head, elongating her torso to show the small slopes of her ribs through the small mound of her belly. Her breasts were stretched—and those were his target. Kiran pinned her wrists and bowed to hover his lips over her nipple.
She hummed impatiently, fidgeting. “Taste me, Kiran,” she ordered breathlessly.
He did. Lips, teeth, tongue, all giving special attention to her breast as he thrust himself in and out.
When their mouths met, Kiran was already flying toward the edge of the world with overstimulation of his senses, and he nearly screeched to a halt when she said,
“Impregnate me, Kiran.”