Deadly Oath

6. Sabrina

6

SAbrINA

M y heart is hammering like the small animal that he’s nicknamed me after, and I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to.

Do I want to? I don’t know. I’m terrified, and at the same time, I feel like I’m burning up from the inside, on fire with a skin-tightening heat that I’ve never felt before. That warmth is flooding through me, down to the throbbing space between my thighs, and I feel like I’m on the verge of being overcome by a sensation I don’t even recognize.

I didn’t know what to think when I walked in and saw him working out, shirtless and muscles flexing, sweat dripping down his skin and glistening in the overhead lights. He’s rippling with muscle, sculpted like one of the statues I’ve seen in museums, like a Greek god. Lean and carved and utter, physical perfection—and now he’s looming over me, his mouth so close to mine that I feel sure that this time, he’s actually going to kiss me.

My first kiss. Something that I always thought would happen on my wedding day, with the man my father chose for me, a man that I probably wouldn’t even be all that excited about kissing.

But I want Kian to kiss me. He’s irritating and arrogant, and he sets off some instinctual alarm that tells me he’s dangerous—but I wanted him to kiss me earlier, even though I was angry and upset. I want him to kiss me now, even if the pattering beat of my heart tells me I should run. Because whatever primal, instinctive thing it is that warns me away from him—it’s also drawing me to him, too.

To the temptation of being allowed to want for the first time. Of being allowed to choose .

If this gorgeous man wants me, too, there’s no one here making me say no. There probably never will be again. And it’s only a kiss.

He’s breathing hard, his chest so close to mine that it almost touches me each time he draws in a breath. His hands bracket me, caging me in place, and there’s a predatory heat in his gaze that makes me want to run, even as I look up into his dark blue eyes and wish for his mouth on mine.

I’m not at all prepared for the sensation when it happens. He leans in, in one short, swift motion, his mouth pressing hard against my lips as his body leans into mine, and I’m hit with a wave of unfamiliar sensations all at once. His mouth, full and firm, slanting over mine as he takes the kiss without any further hesitation, his lips salty as they drag over my mouth. His hard chest, pressing into me, muscles flexing as his hips meet mine, and against my thigh?—

I gasp, a small, whimpering sound of shock and arousal escaping me as I feel his hard length against my leg. There’s nothing restraining him other than the flimsy fabric of his shorts, and I feel it fully, hot and thick as he presses into me, so large that I can’t imagine how all the pieces actually fit together. There’s no way he could fit inside of me, and yet?—

My body is throbbing as if it desperately wants him to.

His right hand goes to my hip, closing around it as he groans, the sound vibrating across my mouth and through me like a shock. I made him make that sound. Me . It’s almost a sound of pain, and yet, the way he surges against me, the way his thumb presses into my hipbone as his hard length grinds against my leg and his tongue sweeps over my lips—I know instinctively that it’s not pain. It’s need, and pleasure, and lust—and it’s me making him feel all of those things .

A heady sense of power washes over me at that, like the hit of a drug, better even than the pleasure racing over my nerves at the touch of Kian’s mouth and hands. I’ve never had power in my life. I didn’t have the power to choose my own future—or my own husband. I didn’t have the power to save myself from being kidnapped or choose where I would go after. My whole life, I’ve been utterly powerless, and yet, at this moment, I can feel a new, formerly unknown sense of power waking up within me.

This effect that I have on Kian, this is power. And I have some idea that once I give in, once we take this to its inevitable conclusion, I’ll lose some measure of it.

I need to wield it, while I can, to understand what’s happening here. Why he wants me, and where this is going to go.

“Kian.” I try to gasp his name, but the sound of it only seems to urge him on. His hips press into mine, the bag swaying backward, nearly knocking us both to the side. He lets out a frustrated sound that’s very nearly a growl, both of his broad hands suddenly gripping my waist hard as he turns me, backing me up against the ropes surrounding the boxing ring right next to us.

“Say my name again,” he growls, his lips crashing down on mine, his hands still firmly on my waist. His thumbs slide up over the edge of my ribcage, his tongue pushing at the seam of my lips, demanding entrance. “ Fuck, Sabrina?—”

It would be so easy to give in. I never imagined my first kiss would feel like this, and I want to know what the rest will feel like, too. What else could he show me that would undo all my previously held imaginings about what sex could be?

His hands are sliding upwards as his mouth drags away from mine, his lips skimming over my jaw, to the soft flesh of my neck as his fingers start to curve around my breasts. His lips on my throat send electricity over my skin, making my knees go weak as I shiver with pleasure, but I somehow manage to find the strength to reach up, pushing my hands against his chest. “ Kian ,” I hiss, more insistently this time. “Kian, stop.”

To his credit, he does. He shudders, his hands gripping my sides for one brief instant that makes me almost wonder if he will stop, but then he pulls back, his eyes dark, pupils wide as he looks down at me with an almost feral need.

It sends a flood of heat through me all over again, and it’s all I can do not to ask him to keep kissing me.

“I just—I need a second,” I breathe, feeling dizzy. It’s not not true. I feel completely undone by the suddenness of what just happened, by how quickly it all spun out of control. “I—that was—I’ve never?—”

“Been kissed before?” he supplies, and heat races up my throat as I press my fingers to my lips.

“Was I that bad at it?” I whisper, humiliation racing up hard on the heels of desire, and Kian chuckles roughly, shaking his head.

“Not bad at it at all,” he rasps. “But you’re shaking like a leaf, little rabbit. If someone has kissed you before, they didn’t do a very good job at it.”

“No, that was—that was my first kiss,” I admit, my hands grasping behind me for the ropes of the ring for support. My knees feel as if they’re on the verge of giving out underneath me. “I’m still—I’m?—”

“A virgin?” Kian fills in, his mouth twitching with amusement, but I see a flicker of something in his eyes as he says it. Something that makes it look as if they darken briefly, his gaze hardening with something that both frightens me and sends an answering jolt through my body.

I nod speechlessly, and he makes a sound deep in his throat, his gaze sweeping over me with a hungry possessiveness that even I can recognize. He’s dangerous , my mind whispers, and I can see the raw want in his face, a need for something I don’t fully understand. But even as my mind is telling me to run, my body is responding to him.

He’s offering things I never had the chance to have before. Power. Choice. Pleasure on my terms, as well as his. And the idea of paving my own way forward in this, when I’ve never been able to choose any path before, makes me want to grab him and drag him down on top of me.

But I can’t be rash. Not when my safety depends on being able to be comfortable in this town. Not when I need to be alert for anything that could mean the danger has followed me, found me here. I can’t rush into this.

“I—I just need to take this a little slower,” I whisper. “This is new to me. All of this—” I swallow hard, and I see that dark lust in Kian’s eyes ease just a little. He pulls back, straightening, and I can’t help but catch a glimpse of the thick, stiff length tenting his shorts as he reaches down to adjust himself.

There’s no way that will fit.

“I don’t know what’s happening here.” I swallow hard. “It’s all moving really fast. I just—if this is going to go anywhere at all, I need to take it slow.”

Kian’s eyes flash, but he nods, taking another step back. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t wanna do,” he says. His thumb is hooked in the waistband of his shorts, as if he’s using his hand to shield me from seeing just how turned on he is. “If you say stop, I’ll stop. If you want me to leave you alone?—”

I nod, letting out a slow breath. “I—I don’t think I want that.” I bite my lip, trying to sort through the tangle of emotions churning in my stomach. Every other interaction we’ve had so far, he’s managed to either irritate me or piss me off—and yet, I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. Whatever it is about him that rubs me the wrong way, it’s clearly rubbing me very much the right way at this moment. And maybe if I gave him a chance?—

“Is that date still on the table?” I ask softly, curling my fingers tighter around the ropes behind me. My heart does a small, nervous twist in my chest at the thought of him turning me down, or worse, laughing at me. Laughing, maybe, at the idea that I’ll get a second shot at him when I said no once, and every other woman in this town is lining up for that same chance.

Marie was right about one thing, there’s not a woman here, married or unmarried, who won’t at least fantasize about him. Seeing him like this, I’m sure of it. He doesn’t need to give me a second chance.

But his gaze wanders over me slowly, that same hunger still in his eyes, and his mouth curls up on one side. “Sure,” he says casually. “I’m hungry. Why don’t we go out now and grab something to eat?”

I stare at him, caught off guard by the suddenness of the offer. He did that on purpose, I can’t help but think, and that irritation I felt before swims up to join the tangle simmering in my chest. “You’ve been working out,” I tell him pointedly. “You’re not going to go out to dinner dripping with sweat, are you?”

Kian smirks at that, a knowing look on his face that says he’s fully aware of just how closely I’ve been looking at him. “I’ll go take a shower now,” he says affably. “Won’t take but a few minutes. Then we can go get something to eat. I imagine you haven’t had a decent meal in a while, considering your cooking skills.”

“You—” I shove myself away from the ropes, suddenly pissed all over again, and Kian chuckles, taking a neat step backward.

“Don’t swing at me,” he says with a grin, holding his hands up. “You might get one punch in, but I’d lay you out flat on the floor right after.”

His gaze meets mine as he says it, blazing with heat, and I come up short, my body tightening with a rush of desire. It feels like sparks are snapping between us, close to igniting the air in the space between him and me, and I need to catch my breath. I need a moment alone.

“Okay,” I say quickly, before he tries to come up with any other means of convincing me. “I’ll just wait out here?”

“Sounds good.” Kian grins. “It won’t take me long. I’ll be right back out.”

I can’t stop myself from staring at him as he walks away. I’ve never encountered anyone like him before. I grew up around Bratva men who considered themselves the peak of masculinity, but there’s a rawness about Kian that outstrips any other man I’ve ever met.

As he disappears around the corner, I look around, suddenly unsure of what to do with myself while I wait. The idea of someone walking in and finding me here makes my face heat all over again, as if they’d be able to tell just by looking at me that Kian had me up against the ropes a moment ago. The thought of explaining that I’m waiting on him only makes me feel more nervous, and I glance around, seeing the women’s locker room off to one side. As far as I can tell, the rest of the gym is currently empty, and I head in that direction, hoping to have some privacy while I wait for Kian to finish showering.

That image is burned into my mind the second I think of it. I’ve never seen an entirely naked man before, but what was pressed up against me gives me enough to put some of the pieces together, and just the thought of him standing naked under the water, soap running down the rivulets of his muscles, is enough to make me feel slightly breathless all over again.

I lean back against the lockers, trying to push the image out of my head. But it sticks, sending prickles of heat over my skin, and I reach down unthinkingly, toying with the top button of my jeans.

I’ve never made myself come before. I’ve toyed with the idea, let my fingers wander—but I’ve never made it to the finish line. Now, with the thought of a soaking-wet, naked Kian in my head, I’m sorely tempted to slip my hand inside of my jeans, and finally find out what that would feel like. After the way he kissed me, I think just the memory of that might be enough to get me there.

I bite my lip, trailing the tips of my fingers over the edge of the denim, my stomach muscles tightening at the thought. It feels tempting, and something about the idea of him walking in and catching me makes it even more so.

Is this what I’d want, left to my own devices? It feels like a new side of me, one that I’ve never even considered before, and that makes my heart jump a little, too, fluttering in my chest. For the first time since Caldwell deposited me here, I feel a sense of anticipation. Excitement, even. Even if this thing with Kian and I didn’t go anywhere, what would be the harm in enjoying it as far as it could go? In giving myself something to take pleasure in, something I would choose for myself?

And then, just as my fingers are about to slide past the waist of my jeans, a familiar, drawling voice breaks me out of my reverie, sending heat flaming up my face all over again.

“Ready to go, Sabrina?”