Chapter 37: Back Against The Wall

*“Welcome to my home."*

Killian and Vanya arrived at a house. It was smallerthat the Black Hollows Pack's main house, but there was a quiet strength to it—spacious enough to breathe, cozy enough to feel like a trap.
Killian pushed open the door and Vanya followed. The ground level stretched out before them: a living room with a worn leather sofa, a kitchen tucked to one side, a dining area with a long table that could seat ten, and a tea nook by a wide window. Three bedrooms branched off a hallway, their doors ajar, and two modest bathrooms flanked the space.
It was practical, lived-in—not the lair of a ruthless rogue she’d expected.
In the living room, three young women sat there.
“*Alpha Killian*, *Welcome back!*” the tallest of the trio said, her blonde curls bouncing as she grinned. Her gaze flickered to Vanya. “*Luna*, welcome…”
The other two echoed her greeting, their voices overlapping in a rush of enthusiasm. One had dark braids coiled atop her head, the other a freckled face framed by a short bob. They didn’t look like rogues—too soft, too ordinary.
“Your room is all prepared for you,” Melanie added, her eyes darting between Killian and Vanya.
“This is Melanie, Becca, and Tanya,” Killian said, gesturing to each in turn. “They’re omegas. And thank you, Melanie.”
The three women beamed at Vanya. “We are so excited to have you here, Luna,” Melanie said, clearly the mouthpiece of the group. Becca giggled, and Tanya nodded vigorously, her bob swaying.
Vanya stared back. *Luna?* The word grated against her—some title slapped on her like a brand. But she was a prisoner here, wasn’t she? Yet their warmth felt genuine, and that only made her more uneasy.
“Vanya and I had a long journey,” Killian said with a sigh . “We won’t be disturbed until tomorrow.”
Vanya's stomach dropped, a cold weight settling there. *We’ll rest.* She shot him a look—half glare, half challenge—but his dark eyes gave nothing away.
“Of course!” Melanie chirped, already ushering Becca and Tanya toward the door. They scurried out, whispering excitedly among themselves as they went. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Vanya alone with Killian in the too-quiet house.
Vanya crossed her arms, leaning against the dining table to steady herself. “You should really tell them to *stop* calling me Luna.”
Killian’s jaws clenched at that but he swallowed the urge to snap back. He moved toward the stairs leading to the second floor, not saying anything.
Vanya followed him despite herself. “So you dragged me halfway across the sea to play house, Killian?” she asked another question.
He paused on the first step, glancing over his shoulder. “You’ll get your answers. Relax.”
She huffed, trailing him up the stairs. The second floor opened into a short hall. And without saying another word, Killian showed him around—office with a cluttered desk, a mini library lined with dusty tomes, a bathroom with a clawfoot tub, and, lastly, the main bedroom. He pushed that door open, revealing a wide bed draped in dark furs, a window overlooking the forest, and a fireplace already crackling with low flames. It was warm, inviting—and far too intimate for her liking.
She stopped in the doorway, her pulse kicking up. “If you think I’m sharing that with you—”
Before she could finish, Killian spun around, quick as a cat, and had her pinned against the bedroom wall, caging her in like she was his favorite snack. “Oh, we’re sharing it, mate. Tonight, tomorrow, and every night ‘til the cows come home.”
Her mind took a sharp turn, picturing all the wicked things he might do to her under those sheets. And damn if he didn’t know it—her face was a dead giveaway, cheeks pink like a ripe peach, teeth sinking into her lip like she was fighting a losing battle.
He stepped closer, erasing the space between them. “You know how cute you get when you try to fight me, Red?” he teased, pressing himself against her so she could feel just how much he meant it.
Vanya swallowed a whimper, cursing her body for betraying her. Their eyes locked, and it was like he’d hooked her soul with a fishing line—was he pulling that magic trick on her again, reeling her in? She tried to breathe steady, keep her cool, but then his hand slid under her dress, bold as brass, cupping her through her panties.
She meant to push him off, honest, but her tongue flicked her lip, and she leaned into his touch instead, practically begging his finger to trace her. He smirked like the devil who’d just won a bet, then pulled back, leaving her hanging.
“I was gonna claw your smug face off,” she muttered between little gasps.
He chuckled, low and rough. “Sure, but here you are, all hot and bothered just for me.”
Killian grabbed her hips with both hands, yanking her tight against him, his hardness digging into her like a promise. She sucked in a breath, biting her lip again, fingers clutching his arms for dear life. He hiked her dress up ‘til it was a crumpled mess around her waist.
“Now you’re mine to play with, mate,” he said, eyes glinting as he watched her flush spread like wildfire from her neck to her face, her breath hitching. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped the elastic of her panties against her thigh then tugged them down, leaving her bare.
“And right now,” Killian murmured, his lips brushing her neck like a thief sneaking a taste, “I want to lick and suck that little bud until you’re screaming my name and seeing stars.” He punctuated each dirty promise with a kiss, tweaking her nipple through her dress.
“Killian…” she gasped, his name slipping out like a plea and leaving her panting like she’d just sprinted through a storm. A soft moan snuck out when his hand claimed her breast, then darted back between her legs like it couldn’t stay away.
“Tell me,” he said, his voice all gravel and tease as his fingers slid through her wet heat, spreading her own slickness. Vanya’s knees wobbled, need rattling her bones. “Want me to stop, Red?”
“No!” she squeaked, the word jumping out when his finger grazed her clit, sending a jolt through her. He grinned and rewarded her with a kiss so deep her legs turned to jelly, before dropping to his knees like a man on a mission.
Down there, eye-level with her dripping center, Killian looked up at her, all smug and sinful. Vanya peered back, hit with the sudden, stupid realization that he was the hottest damn thing she’d ever laid eyes on—like a devil who’d crawled out of her dirtiest dreams.
His gaze didn’t waver as he coaxed her out of her tangled panties, tossing them aside like they’d personally offended him. Then his hands were on her thighs, kneading them gentle but firm, nudging them apart. His thumbs teased her folds, brushing close but not quite there, like a bartender pouring a shot just shy of the rim.
“I’m gonna make you come so hard, Vanya,” he promised, voice low and dark, “you’ll forget your own name.”
She swallowed, throat dry as a desert. He’d barely touched her yet, and already she was dying a slow, delicious death by anticipation. Then, without so much as a heads-up, he dove in, burying his face between her thighs. His hands snaked around to grip her backside, yanking her tight against his mouth like she was his last meal.
Vanya’s hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his silver hair as her back arched like a bow. A throaty moan slipped out when his lips pressed into her, kissing her down there. Then he zeroed in on her clit—flicking it light and quick, sucking it into that warm, wicked mouth of his every so often. The sensation shot through her like a live wire, buzzing all the way to her toes..
She let him haul her right to the edge, her moans bouncing off the walls like a wild symphony echoing through the second floor. They’d only been together for a few days, but the man worked her body like he’d been handed the cheat codes.
And just when she was teetering on the cliff of bliss, he yanked his focus from her clit, ripping a long, desperate whimper from her throat. His tongue plunged into her instead, and though her climax slipped through her fingers, the slow, sinful drag of his mouth still felt like heaven dipped in honey.
“Killian, *fuck*! Quit teasing me!” she growled, half-convinced she felt his smug little smirk buzzing against her center. Sweat beaded on her skin like tiny traitor tears, and the tight coil of heat in her belly was a cruel knot threatening to snap her in half.
She squirmed, grinding herself against his face like a woman possessed, but he wasn’t having it. His hands shot to her hips, pinning her still with a grip. It hit her then—he was feasting on her for his own damn amusement, a king savoring his dessert. No amount of begging or wiggling would rush him; he’d lick her his way ‘til he’d had his fill.
But when he hoisted one of her thighs up, tossing it over his shoulder like a pirate claiming treasure, she seized her shot—arching up and shoving her hips into his face. He pulled back in a flash, shoving her against the wall with a glare that could melt steel.
“Back against the wall, mate,” he barked, voice rough as gravel. “Unless you want me to call it quits and leave you squirming.”
Before she could snap back, his head was between her thighs again, tongue teasing her entrance with maddening little flicks. Her moans piled up above him, loud and useless, but he didn’t flinch—just kept at it. When her legs started shaking in his hands, trembling so hard she was one breath from breaking, his mouth finally latched onto her clit, sucking hard, while two fingers slid inside her, curling just right.
Vanya’s whole body locked up, every muscle pulling tight. “Shit!” she yelped, the word tearing out of her. If this was his game, she was losing spectacularly—and loving every second of it.
“Oh, shit! Oh, shit!” she gasped over and over, her voice ragged as his fingers hit that perfect spot and her hands yanked at his hair like it was her lifeline.
Killian tightened his free arm around her hips, anchoring her to him, and glanced up. The sight nearly knocked the breath out of him: her body curled around him, calf muscles flexing tight, that wild red hair spilling around her flushed face like a fiery halo.
She locked eyes with him, and that was it—those dark pools of his were her breaking point. Her lids slammed shut, her back bowed like a bridge about to snap, and she let loose a scream.
He stayed with her, riding the wave of her climax, his mouth and fingers relentless until her cries melted into shaky pants. She crumpled against him, spent, and he eased her down slow and steady, settling them both onto the carpet in a sweaty, tangled heap.
She nestled into his arms, chest heaving, and he couldn’t help but grin at the mess he’d made of her.
A beat later, his voice cut through the quiet, low and rough. “Full moon’s coming soon, Red.” He traced a lazy circle on her arm with his thumb. “Maybe you still think I’m the filthy rogue or a rotten rotter they painted me as—but I’m your mate, and I *will* claim you.”
This time, Vanya didn’t argue, just burrowed closer. The floor was hard under them, but there was something soft in the way they fit together—her curves pressed to his edges, his hand resting easy on her hip.