##"Mine in the Dark"
Kaine's POV
She was in his bloodstream.
Even as far Aria had gone — as tight as she had coiled herself in defiance and disinterest — she was scratching him, clawing him, twitching him.
And tonight, Kaine was drowning in it.
In his room he sat alone, a blade of light shredding through the dark blinds and dispersing silver across the insinuations of sweat spread across his chest cloth, fist locked, jaw locked, each sigh more sinister than the other in a battle against that need that drove him like an overdose of adrenaline.
She haunted his senses.
The sound of her laugh with Darius, the way she turned her head when she was teasing, the glow in her eyes when she was beating him, Her scent – gods, her scent – ran through his head like a drug to him: wildflowers after a storm, smoke and something more than herself. It covered his lungs, tightened his fists, made his wolf uneasy.
Kaine had spent years mastering control.
He trained harder than anyone. He fought harder. He fucked less. He loved no one.
But Aria cracked through that control like fire through frost.
And now…
Now he was in hell.
He still could taste her — sweet and sharp under his lip, the rememberance of her mouth opening for his, the way she gasped when he kissed her like it belonged to him. Because she did.
He stood, pacing the floor, sweat running down the tightened contours of his body.
"You ain't gonna kiss me when you reject me, " she'd said.
But that kiss... That moment... it squished him like a holocaust.
He 'd just felt the tangle resurface. Not soft. Not patient. Violent.
And he wanted her. All of her.
He wanted to lay his face firmly in the curve of her neck and feel her writhe and convulse against him, pulling desperately at him to let her go, breathless and staring in him, mark her and claim her so harshly no one would look at her again.
But more than that?
He wanted her willing.
That was the sickest part of the obsession. Not just hunger.
I think it was wanting her to want him back — desperately & hopelessly like he did.
His hands caught in his hair, pulling at the roots with sharpness as he bit back a curse. His cock already painfully hard, the memory of her pressed against him breathlessly and fiercely, played over and over like a curse.
With a frustrated growl he leaped into the chair, tilting his head back and burning eyes.
He could quite literally feel her in the room. Could picture her sliding through the shadows wearing nothing but that damn smirk and those eyes that read right through him.
"You are mine, " he whispered into the empty night. "You have always been.
And tonight... in the silence, with only the hand, the ghost of her, to conceive in his mind, he gave in to the madness.
Not because he was weak.
Because he was hers.
And soon Aria would learn just how stoked his obsession was.
The moonlight had streamed through the window of Aria's bedroom, silver and chill, and danced across the tangled bedsheets entwined around her legs. Her body jerked in spasmodic movements, her breathing harsh as drops of perspiration pearled along her temple.
She was dreaming again. Of him.
Kain.
The stormcloud and pine fragrance stuck to her body in the dream, weighing heavily upon her. She stood in the training room once more, but it was bare of everyone but her and Kain. His amber-colored eyes glowed with an incandescence greater than the torches that lined the walls. He was a ferocious animal held back at best.
And this time, he didn't hold back.
"Say my name, Aria," he growled, holding her against the mirror. His breath scorched down her neck, and she felt the tension seething beneath his skin, his body humming with repressed energy. Her arms were above her head, trapped in his hand, but every nerve in her screamed with promise.
"No," she panted, but her voice shook with want. Her thighs clamped involuntarily together.
Kain smiled. "You dream of me every night. You don't think I know? Your body beckons mine like fire."
His lips dived into hers, and Aria groaned against him. It wasn't soft or sweet. It was hard. Possessive. His lips took claim, his tongue pushing hers wide with wicked expertise. Her body betrayed her better sense, arching into his, hungry for more.
He tore at her clothes like a famished man, revealing inch after inch of warm flesh. The icy air brushed against her peaks, and Kain's lips were there next, worshipping every curve and every valley.
She breathed as his fingers brushed down her belly, hesitating just above the throb humming at her core.
"Do you want me to stop?" he snarled, lips against her ear.
She didn't answer. Couldn't.
Her silence was consent.
He dropped to his knees before her, and her legs shook as he pulled down her panties with his teeth. He buried his face between her thighs, devouring her like he'd gone centuries without food. Aria gripped the mirror behind her, her head thrown back, gasping moans echoing off the glass.
Her climax hit hard and fast, waves of bliss washing over her as Kain's grip on her hips tightened, holding her in place as she broke.
But that wasn't the end.
He lifted her up with ease, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her back hit the cold mirror as he thrust into her in one hard, unyielding stroke.
She screamed.
He whispered her name.
They moved together as if they were made for this, for each other. The mirror fogged over behind her, their bodies glistening with sweat, friction, and lust. Each stroke shook her to the very core, each growl from Kain's throat pushing her closer to the edge.
And when she came again, this time crying out his name, her world burst into white-hot sparks.
But before his mouth could claim hers for the final time, her eyes sprang open.
Reality hit her with the force of a bucket of ice water.
She sat up in bed, gasping, her body still trembling, the sheets moist from sweat—and something more.
Her hand over her mouth, shame and fury warring within her.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, no."
But her thighs still gleamed, lips puffy from remembering the sensation of his mouth, and her heart pounded around like he actually had been there.
The worse thing?
She missed him.
Even in fantasy, her body betrayed her.
A shadowy figure moved among the trees outside the window. Looking. Waiting.
Kain stood in the night, barefoot, wearing nothing but pants, his fists clenched at his sides.
He could feel it.
Every. Single. Second.