NYLAH:
She wakes first, as she usually does. The sun hasn’t quite yet risen, leaving the house cast in shadows and a sleepy quiet. The sheets are soft against her skin, and the warmth she’s wrapped up in tries to keep her there longer. Slipping silently from bed, the tile is cool under her bare feet as she pads from their room, to the kitchen. Cool tones and minimalistic decor hint that it was once a bachelor pad, and while Kieran is no longer a bachelor, his home had remained unchanged. Nylah wasn’t an interior decorator, she had no desire to spruce up the place by adding a few pieces of art and throw pillows. She wasn’t raised to be a housewife, she was raised to be at the head of her family. Now she was stuck idly twiddling her thumbs until Ruarc decided she was trustworthy. So, since the day she moved, the only signs of a woman living here were the shoes left by the door and the occasional article of clothing thrown over the furniture.

Huffing quietly to herself, she slipped into the kitchen not bothering to flip on the light. Her shifter vision made seeing in the dark just as easy as seeing in the light. Besides that, her wolf had always preferred the dark, even with all the monsters that went bump in the night. Running her hand through her disheveled hair, she scowled as she did every morning, glaring at anything in her sight until coffee touched her lips.

They had some gala to attend tonight. The details were lost on her, all she knew was she had to wear some ridiculously overpriced dress and put on actual makeup. She wouldn’t be able to get by with her usual brows and mascara routine. She’d much rather stay home, in her current attire - white cotton booty shorts that did a terrible job of concealing anything, hugging each and every curve she possessed. Paired with a white cotton spaghetti strap tank top that left little to the imagination, molding to her chest, her nipples straining against the material. Her robe was hanging up in the closet, as it had been all summer and where it would remain until it was colder. She’d lived here long enough that she no longer fussed quite so much about covering up. Everything stayed covered, even if just barely. Otherwise, she had made this place her home, a home she could be comfortable in.

Turning on the coffee maker, she pulled out cream and sugar, having always enjoyed a little coffee with her cream and sugar. The decadent smell of coffee filled the house as the pot began to fill, steam clouding the glass. Pulling open a cupboard door, she reached up to find the mugs on the lowest shelf gone. Her full lips pressed together in a thin as she remembered that she forgot to turn the dishwasher on last night. On her tiptoes, she reached up to the next shelf, feeling around until she found what she was looking for. The last clean mug. She was up early enough that she beat the housekeeper to the kitchen. The dishwasher flashed gently, a reminder that it was clean and ready to be emptied.

Kieran IversKieran often sleeps late—but that's largely because his job involves a lot of late hours. Nylah is usually in bed by the time he's arrived home, and he knows she's itching to do more with her time other than spend most of her days locked up in the penthouse apartment, itching to be part of something. It's not so simple, though. His world is a uniquely dangerous one, and selfishly, a part of him wants to keep her away from it as long as possible—but Kieran knows her eventual involvement is inevitable. It's not that he thinks Nylah is innocent by any means, but that he wants to keep her all to himself for a while, to learn all the little things that make up the chemistry of the woman who was never supposed to get under his skin. Famous last words, he supposes.

It comes as no surprise when his eyes finally roll open and find the other side of the bed empty, the door ajar and the soft clatter of dishware echoing beyond. He lets out a long sigh and scrubs a hand over his face, and then forces himself out of bed, abandoning the cool silk sheets he'd rather spend all day in. Unfortunately, they have an event to prepare for, and he isn't certain what to expect from Nylah. It's the first truly public event where they'll be seen together, and he knows she finds the whole idea rather ridiculous—but he has every intention of forcing a smile onto her face today.

Padding barefoot to the doorway of their room, he leans against the frame for a minute in silence with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his grey sweatpants, watching Nylah rustle around the kitchen. His hair hangs in loose curls at the nape of his neck, still somewhat chaotic from sleep. He loves it when she's barely dressed like this, her ass nearly on display and her nipples a visible shadow through her thin tank top—but he's never said as much. He's pretty sure she'd immediately start dressing in a nun's habit just to spite him. Because that's just who Nylah is: a fighter.

He admires that about her, even if it does make navigating her a minefield sometimes.

Stifling a yawn, Kieran finally strolls across the open expanse of the apartment, his plain black t-shirt clinging loosely to his pecs. Nylah is just settling at the kitchen counter with her coffee when he nears her, stepping up behind her barstool and skimming his fingertips lightly up her side; it's both a casual gesture of affection and an intentional distraction as he snatches her cup with his other hand, stealing a mouthful of her coffee. Kieran's smirk is wry as he returns the drink a moment later, setting it down with a clink and announcing, "I'm taking you shopping today." It may not sound very exciting to Nylah—in fact, Kieran is expecting her to dig her heels in on it—but she's never had the VIP treatment he plans to introduce her to.

His head lowers, dropping a kiss on her bare shoulder. He's slowly lowering Nylah's walls around him, gaining her trust with her body and that he'll respect her boundaries, so he takes advantage of every little thing she does allow—every way he can give her fleeting reminders of how he's learning to play her like a fiddle. "I'm going to take a shower," he murmurs against her skin, and whilst it's not a direct invitation, he'd hardly say no to her company. He can tell Nylah's getting more curious as the days pass, intrigued about what more he can give her; he's just waiting for her to cross that line.

He disappears back into their bedroom without another word, passing through to the bathroom where he turns on the water and sheds his clothes. Kieran leaves the bathroom door open and steps into the shower, tipping his face up into the warm spray and closing his eyes. If Nylah's curious, the sheer glass wall leaves nothing to the imagination—including a rather intimate piercing if her eyes happen to wander that far.

Nylah:

Sitting at the small countertop bar, she sips her coffee in silence even as she hears the soft sounds of Kieran moving through the apartment. Then he’s behind her, his fingertips blazing a trail up her side, his touch hot even through the thin fabric of her shirt. Nylah has most definitely noticed the way he takes advantage of his newly found freedom to touch her. A shiver races up her spine but before she could fully appreciate his touch, he’s stealing her coffee cup right out of her hands. Nylah grumbles her disapproval, something about him making his own cup and it was too early for his nonsense. Despite being an earlier riser, Nylah is not a morning person. What’s worse though, is he’s announcing he taking her shopping. Her dismay is louder this time. “I have plenty of clothes.” She complains, she doesn’t need more. Her closet was fully stocked with everything she could possibly imagine. Courtesy of Kieran.

The idea of playing dress up all day is abhorrent.

Unfortunately for her, that’s not a boundary that Kieran doesn’t push. She’d be going shopping today, whether or not she wanted to.

Pressing his lips to her shoulder, she’s reminded of every way he touches her. The way his fingertips dancing knowingly across her skin, her skin pebbling in his wake. And his mouth… God, the mans mouth was positively sinful. I’m going to take a shower. It wasn’t the first time he’d made such an announcement. Lately, he had made it a point to tell her, like it was an unspoken invitation. She nodded vaguely and for several minutes, she sits there, sipping her coffee and thinking.

The muted rush of water through the pipes signaled that he’d turned the water on. It would only take a minute for the water to warm before he stepped under the waters spray. Rivulets of water would trace paths down his well muscle torso, over his taunt belly and lower. With no one around, no one would see the way her cheeks turned pink.

Setting down her mug, she stared at her coffee for a moment before she hopped off the stool. She could feel her nerves in her belly but no amount of nerves would hunch her back or force her gaze to the ground. She padded into their bedroom, where the bathroom door was wide open. Another invitation. Her white, flat teeth pressed into her lower lip, worrying its fullness. Releasing it, she walked into the bathroom, her pale green eyes immediately finding Kieran. The large glass wall hadn’t had time to fog up yet and for that, she was secretly thankful.


With his face under the spray, his hands scrubbing over his features, she was free to marvel at her husband. Kieran worked out. A lot. And boy did it pay off. Tanned skin covered each and every impeccably toned muscle. Tattoos inked his skin and her fingers itched to trace each piece of art. But as her eyes traveled lower, the small glint of metal caught her attention. Nylah immediately zeroed in on the piercings. Subconsciously, her tongue ran ever so slightly across her lower lip. By the time she found the will power to look up again, Kieran was watching her. Caught red handed. A sly grin inched its way across her mouth. It was easier to trust him now, there was less resistance when it came to her body. Nylah was learning, quickly, what it was she wanted from her husband.

Kieran IversThere's a prickle of awareness that tells him he isn't alone anymore, but Kieran doesn't react at first. He focuses on the heat of the water rushing over his skin, running his hands through his hair as the warmth seeps into his bones. When he cracks an eye open, he finds Nylah hovering on the other side of the glass, her eyes fixated squarely on the space between his legs, her tongue running absently over her lower lip. By the time her pale green eyes lift to meet his, a bemused smirk has curled over one side of his mouth, flashing a dimple as his eyebrow arches curiously. Nylah has seen him shirtless before, but Kieran has been respectful in maintaining a sense of modesty around her, and aside from the few opportunities he's left-open ended like this one, he's always worn boxers at the very least. He can guess just what has Nylah so intrigued, given that this is the first time she's seen his cock fully exposed; his piercings have a way of catching one's attention.

It doesn't bother him—her staring, or her curiosity. Kieran has never lacked for confidence, and admittedly, his dick twitched a little when he'd seen what she was looking at. Whilst he's been generously learning Nylah's body with his mouth and fingers alike, drawing out every little sound from her lips he's come to love, Kieran has been quite literally torturing himself. He never asks her to reciprocate, and nor has he run off to rub one out in his hand; a few times, he's taken painfully cold showers, but he never chases down a release. He strongly believes in the concept of delayed gratification, confident that his patience will be well worth the wait in the end.

His head tilts slightly, a question alight in Kieran's eyes as Nylah keeps standing there, neither coming closer nor exiting the bathroom in embarrassment. "Are you getting in, or did you just come in here to watch?" he asks casually, his tone light and amused rather than accusatory. "Don't think you'll have much of a view from out there for long," he muses, eyeing the way the steam is creeping across the glass wall, obscuring it further with each passing second. If Nylah wants something, she has to learn how to ask for it.

Nylah:

A smirk curls his lips, both bemused and knowing. Embarrassment doesn’t heat her cheeks nor does she run from the bathroom. Kieran has never shamed her for her lack of experience, or her negative experiences. He’s never made her feel small or spurned her. His confidence made it easier. Easier to trust him. Easier to let him have free rein over her body. It made her her own confidence grow. Little by little, the husband she never wanted is unraveling her, dismantling her walls as he bends her body to his every touch. Are you coming in… An open invitation, the first of its kind and she knows the implications if she agrees. Something would happen. Nylah takes a slow step forward. Or did you just come in here to watch? It’s a tantalizing offer. Enough that she pauses, wondering exactly what kind of show she’d get. But the more time that passes, the more Kieran has her wanting more. Then he points out the rising steam. Fog creeps up the glass, obscuring him more and more. But she doesn’t rush to join him. Instead, her eyes slowly drift back down his body, soaking in every ridge and valley he has to offer. Without a drop of guilt, her eyes flick down to his cock again, lingering on his piercings with open curiosity.

With deliberate slowness, she pulled her tank top over her head, her breasts bouncing gently with the motion. The white scrap of fabric falls, abandoned, on the bathroom floor. Another step brings her closer, her hips swaying with each slow step. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, Nylah slowly pushes them down. Peeling the cotton off her body, she bends at the waist, pulling her panties just far enough until they fall the rest of the way down her legs and she steps out of them. It’s not the first time he’s seen her naked. But it is the first time she’s gotten undressed for him. Even with the trauma of her past, Nylah is not inherently shy, she is not ashamed of her body or her nakedness. Not anymore. Nylah is very aware of how she looks, of the beauty she possesses. After pulling open the shower door, she steps in, her leisurely place hinting at her lingering tentativeness.

Exposed to the cool air outside of the shower, her skin breaks out in goosebumps and her nipples harden. The warm air in the shower doesn’t immediately chase away the cold. Steam gathers at her ankles and moisture beads on her skin. Nylah no longer shies away from stepping into his personal space, she does so comfortably, like she belongs there. Soft palms skim up his arms, over his biceps to rest on his shoulders. Kieran’s mouth has been all over her body, exploring her like she’s uncharted territory he wants to conquer. And she wants him to do just that. She presses against him, greedy for the warmth of his skin and the water. As gentle as Nylah ever is, she pushes him out of the spray, taking his place and letting the warm water run over her body. Water gathers in her hair, slicking it against her skin.

Her eyes drop to the space between them. ”Did it hurt?” There was no question as to what she was referring to. Through her lashes, she looks back up at him. This is the first time she’s seen him fully undressed and she definitely didn’t know about his piercings. Whether his modesty up until this point was for himself or her, she didn’t know, but there weren’t anymore secrets now.

Kieran IversHe loves Nylah's curiosity—how openly she wears it, how she doesn't flush with embarrassment or shame. Her gaze is even more scrutinizing as she drags it down his body, the indecision for which path to take flicking across her features with lightning speed. There's no hesitation, though, when she makes her choice, and their eyes lock for a moment before Kieran's gaze is raking over every inch of skin she exposes. His nostrils flare ever so slightly; watching her peel off her tank top with deliberate slowness has his cock twitching to life, blood pooling south at the mere sight of her. He's far from immune to Nylah's unique beauty, sharp enough to cut a man, and by the time she's shed the rest of her clothes and stepped into the shower, he's already half hard. God, the things he wants to fucking do to this woman. Ever since he learned about her prior experiences with sex, he's taken it as something of a challenge to chase those memories from her mind, and replace them with utter euphoria. It's enough for him just to watch her come undone and her face twist in ecstasy, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't want very much to feel her come on his dick.

Nylah all but prowls closer, invading his space and running her hands up his arms. Kieran's fingers naturally find her waist, skimming up her pebbled skin; one palm settles against her ribs, and the other drifts higher, unable to help himself from rolling his thumb over the stiff peak of her dusky nipple. Then her hands are pushing him backwards, and he chuckles softly as he yields to her silent demand. He doesn't mind losing the direct spray of the water when it means he can watch it cascade over Nylah's skin instead, tracing a path he'd like to follow with his tongue or fingers or both.

"Did it hurt?" She distracts him from his illicit thoughts with a question that's amusing in its simple curiosity, and his lips quirk. "Yes, briefly," he states honestly, lifting his hands to grasp Nylah by the shoulders before he gently turns her around. "The healing was worse," Kieran admits with a slight shrug, grabbing the shampoo and filling his palm, moving to work the soap into his wife's hair. Despite it being the first time he's given her such treatment, there's no hesitation or fumbling in his movements; her hair is longer than his, but Kieran's still falls past his shoulders, and he's just vain enough to know how to take proper care of it. His fingers work into her scalp, down the long tresses, and then he tips her head back into the water. He applies conditioner with equal care, and while it's soaking into the strands, Kieran pulls her hair over one shoulder, dropping his lips to the exposed skin on her other shoulder as his hands skim back down to settle at her hips.

"But it was worth it," he says, his grin against her skin wry and teasing. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to Nylah's skin, and then his gaze zeroes in on a bead of water streaking down her neck, and he drags his tongue with deliberate slowness over the trail it's left, stopping just shy of her jaw. It's only natural that Kieran is fully erect now, but he leaves enough space that he doesn't poke Nylah in the ass with his cock, more interested in pulling a reaction out of her and gauging how receptive she is to his advances today. Whilst he's pretty certain she wants to play, the little vixen, he doesn't know if she's ready for sex—though the way she can't stop staring at his dick this morning has the damn thing desperately hoping that she is. Luckily for Nylah, Kieran happens to be extremely good at thinking with his bigger head. It's only a weak-willed man that lets his cock rule his motives.

Nylah:

His eyes run over her body like fingertips, tracing every inch of skin she exposes for him - something he’s done every time she’s been naked in front of him, like he’s seeing her for the first time. Very quickly, Nylah learned that she rather enjoyed his eyes on her, but subtle effects her naked body had on him. From the way his nostrils flared just slightly, to his pupils dilating, to the way his dick began to stiffen. Nylah wasn’t dumb, nor was she naive to enough to think Kieran didn’t want more from her. But he never pushed, letting her set the pace and always making it worth her while. Each time it emboldened her and laid just a bit more of trust in the foundation that Kieran was tediously building between them. From time to time, she still regarded him with uncertainty, like maybe this would be the time he’d turn on her. Still, he never did. So, she smiled more, her lips curling with satisfaction. To think, how rapidly her life had changed, how Kieran had managed to work his way past all her defenses, just build her trust in him.

Large hands spread across her skin, one hand settling on her ribs while the other shamelessly rolled her already hard nipple under his thumb. Nylah blew out a soft breath, the low hum of pleasuring blossoming across her chest. Her back arched ever so slightly, gently pressing her breast harder into his capable hand. Under the spray now, water rushes over her tanned skin, warmth seeping into her muscles and kissing her bones. Yes, briefly. She’d imagined so. Letting Kieran spin her around, he may not have noticed the way her nose scrunched when he mentioned the healing being worse. But she doesn’t dwell on it any longer when Kieran starts to wash her hair. It’s a different kind of euphoria. Her shoulders sag and her head tips back, letting him work through her dark locks. A contented sigh parts her lips and her eyes closed as she enjoys the new and simple pleasure of having someone else wash her hair. Someone who isn’t a hairdresser. When the conditioner is all worked in, he sweeps her hair over one shoulder, leaving the other exposed to his mouth. She can feel his smile against her skin, a proclamation of his suffering being worth it being questions to the front of her mind. ”Oh?” Shes prompts his explanation but she’s only half listening as her head lolls to the side, giving him access to the curve of her neck as his tongues laves her skin.

She’s acutely aware that Kieran is not pressed against her back. The more attention he lavishes on her neck, the more she leans back, seeking the support of his chest. Until his hard cock pokes her. It’s not the first time she’s felt him hard against her, for her. But it is the first time there’s been no barrier of his underwear between them. For a moment, she doesn’t move. His skin is smooth and warm, even in the spray of hot water. A step back has his pierced head sliding down the crack of her ass to nestle between her thighs. Anticipation zings up her back. Nylah doesn’t move again, but her body is far from tight with tension. She leans against him, her head tipped back to rest against his shoulder.

Kieran Ivers"Mhmm," he hums ambiguously, choosing not to elaborate on his statement. He'll let Nylah stew with curiosity about it, and at some point, he'll show her why letting someone shove a needle through his cock multiple times was well worth it—both for himself, and the person on the receiving end. He takes advantage of her pliant distraction instead, laving slow kisses across her skin, his fingertips still whisper-soft on her hipbones, ghosting upwards over her narrow ribcage. She yields into him an inch at a time, leaning into his chest, but when her ass bumps into the hard ridge of his dick, they both freeze for a moment. Before Kieran can lean back to break the connection, Nylah makes a bold choice he hadn't anticipated, stepping into him so that the seam of her ass guides his cock down her rear and then settles between her thighs. Fucking hell. The mere fact that the wet heat of her pussy is right there has his cock twitching noticeably against her thigh, restless for him to do something about this exquisite torment.

He doesn't. Much as his instincts want his hips to rock into her and rut Nylah like a horny teenager, he won't splinter the olive branch of her trust. So with her ass nestled against his pelvis, her head and shoulders resting against his chest, he finally resumes his casual mapping of her tan skin with his lips and hands. One hand curls around her stomach, pulling her more flush against him, the other continuing upwards until he finds her breast again, his thumb tracing a lazy circle around her areola, intentionally avoiding grazing her nipple. The hand on her belly trails shamelessly southward, not stopping when he reaches the soft patch of curls above the apex of her thighs; his fingers slip between her legs, drawing a slow, curious trail from her entrance to her clit. "You're wet," he murmurs against her ear, a casual accusation as his hand shifts to cup her pussy, teasing her with his possessive touch that offers no friction where he knows she'll want it most.

"Is this all for me?" Kieran muses, his dick jumping again at the very idea of it. Even if he already knows the answer, he wants to hear her admit it, wants to hear the way her voice gets raspy and distant when she's aroused, wants to hear her ask for what she wants—beg, even. He's weaseled enough pleases out of Nylah now that he's damn near desperate to drag them out of her; she's so pretty when she comes fully undone for him and lets her resolve crumble into dust, even if she reconstructs the wall after. Each time she does, though, the barrier is a little smaller, and he can feel it—the fact that only rubble exists between them now, just waiting to be swept away.

Nylah:

The mhmm that rumbles in his throat offers no insight. If she weren't so distracted, Nylah might have pressed hard for a real answer. Instead, she's left with only something to ponder, later. Right now, she's far too consumed with his dick between her legs. His rigid length bounces against her thighs. Nylah is all too aware of just how close he is, how the slightest flex of his hips would have him nudging her pussy indulgently. She can't quite resist rubbing her thighs together, her grip on him between her legs tightening. Kieran has been patience, painstakingly slow and she's appreciated every moment of it. But with the internet, Nylah isn't entirely ignorant when it comes to what she's missing. She knows. And she's curious. He's already taught her so much, opened her eyes to what she didn't know. But Nylah has always been a gluttonous creature, wanting what she wants, exactly when she wants it. The fallen heiress doesn't know what no means. Her husband is no safer from that now, than he's ever been.

The rough callouses of his palm press against her belly, holding her against him, keeping her anchored. His opposite hand skates up her torso, fingertips teasing her, drawing circles over her breasts without actually touching her nipple, without the rush of pleasure that came with it. Impatient as ever, her jaw tics. Until his hand reaches the apex of her thighs. Her legs spread wider, just for him. With a restraint that is agonizing, he draws slow circles over her wet flesh causing her hips to press into his hand for more friction. You're wet. "You're hard." Kieran cups her then, his hand pressed against her pussy in all the wrong places - which she realizes is intentional. But Nylah has ceased being an innocent bystander in their games. Her hips press backward, her mouth twisting in a impish smile. His cock slide further between her cheeks, an exquisite sensation that she nestled into - and she traps him there, leaning her weight against him.

Is this all for me? She can feel the incessant nudge of his cock, the eager demand for more.

"Maybe." She drawls, but the breathy sound of her voice suggests it is most definitely all for him. Its always been all for him. But Nylah has a stubborn streak, something Kieran knew well. Tipping her head back further, her body arches as she reaches up to pepper his jawline with kisses. With her hands free, she reaches up with one, threading her fingers in his wet hair while the other grips the wrist of his hand still between her legs. The spray of the water against her front adds another sensation, her body overtly aware of every touch. Greedily, she wants more. But she is learning how to play, how to test his restraint. Its not unlike Nylah to dig her heels in, to fight him tooth and nail every step of the way and her new found confidence is eager to do just that. Testing his patience and self control is like a favorite pastime but now she has a new way to play, a new way to torment him. She shifts again, feigning to reposition of her weight on her feet as her hips flex. There is a devious glint in her eye, one that promises to push him to the very edge with her experimenting.

Kieran Ivers"You're hard." Kieran smirks at her return fire, acquiescing with a slight nod, "I am." He refrains from telling her just how often he's hard when she's around—how the sight of her strutting around the apartment in booty shorts and sporting a glow of confidence has him constantly coming to life in his pants, or how he could come just from the memory of the taste of her pussy alone. Nylah has no idea just how filthy his mouth can get, and he's not convinced she's ready to hear it yet, either. He's enjoying taking this slowly, mapping every valley and curve of her body, rewiring her to respond to his touch with eagerness and excitement rather than wariness and tension. Her ass presses harder into his pelvis, an intentional movement that has Kieran drawing in a breath at the sensation of her bare skin rubbing tantalizingly against his stiff cock. "Maybe," she hedges breathily, though everything about her tone and body language screams yes.

Nylah arches into him, her lips feathering along his jaw and her fingers threading through his hair possessively, and he tilts his head so that his lips can descend on hers with a sultry kiss that quickly turns into something more heated and searing, his tongue sweeping demandingly into her mouth. Her fingers curled around his wrist are a blazing reminder of just where his hand is lingering over her pussy, hot and wet beneath his palm. Then she shifts against his cock again, playing it off like an innocent adjustment of her weight, and Kieran groans quietly. "Nylah," he warns in a low tone against her lips, the thumb and forefinger that have been toying with her breast finally finding her nipple, only to tweak it more sharply than he has in the past—a brief warning before his hand skates down her side to grab her hip firmly, holding her still against him.

"You want to play, is that it?" he teases, his tone husky with arousal as he nips lightly at her lower lip. Without warning, the hand resting casually over her pussy shifts, and his middle finger sinks slowly into her tight heat. Fuck, what he wouldn't give to feel her strangling his cock the same way she does his fingers. His digit curls inside of her, lazily petting the slightly textured ridge of flesh that he knows will have her seeing stars. He knows that she's trying to get a rise out of him, to see how far she can push, but Kieran has been playing this game a lot longer than Nylah—and he's confident he can win it today.

Nylah:

Kieran does play this game better. He kisses her, thoroughly and demandingly. His tongue is insistent as he lavishes her with his attention. Every chance he gets, he showers her in attention, his hands exploring charted territory with the same diligence he had the first time. Plaint, her mouth opens for him, a breathy sigh smothered against his lips. It’s addictive, the way he devours her. It’s also aggravating, the way he plays her body until she’s soaked and needy, pleading with him for that sweet release. But it’s the low groan that vibrates against her back that has her smiling against his mouth. Nylah. Fuck does she love the timber of his voice, the way it sounds huskier as she torments him slowly. ”Hmm?” As if she doesn’t have the faintest idea of what she’s doing. She can hear the warning in his voice but she doesn’t heed it. Not with him pressed between her thighs and not when he pinches her nipple, his touch rougher than it’s ever been. Desire floods her, heat pools between her legs and her gasp is sharp. But the moan that follows echoes gently off the shower walls, she likes it. Pressing into both his hands, she demands more. The sharp bite of pain doesn’t deter her, nor does it make her pause.

You want to play, is that it? He nips at her lower lip and as she starts to speak, he slides a finger in her, cutting off whatever it was she was going to say. Her body bows as she moans her answer. ”Yes.” Releasing his wrist, her arm twists behind her to snake her hand between their wet bodies as she takes a small step forward. Her soft palm skims down his lower belly to the base of his cock where she wraps her fingers around him for the first time. Kieran doesn’t disappointment.

She’s seen the outline of his dick through his underwear multiple times. She’s felt is pressed against her thigh, her belly, incessant behind the soft barricade of fabric. Walking into the bathroom, she saw him relaxed. But none of it compared to actually touching him. Curiosity makes her excruciatingly slow as she slides her hand from his base to tip, her fingers grazing his piercings. His skin is hot and silky, rock solid in her hand. She repeats the process in the opposite direction, sliding her hand back down his length. Kieran is big enough that wonders how he’ll fit, without hurting her. The tattered faith she places in his hands, that same faith he has been repairing little by little, stitch by stitch, reminds her not to worry.

That knowledge does something to her. Her hand flexes, testing the strength of her grip on him. She wants to know. Now. With every stroke of his finger, ecstasy builds. Nylahs chest rises and falls rapidly as she rides his hand, rolling her hips against his palm. Her grip on his hair, tightens, stabilizing her as she melts into him.

Kieran Ivers"Yess," she moans, the sound like music to his ears. He smiles against her neck, his finger slowly sliding in and out of her wet pussy, eager to pull every little noise of pleasure from her lips. Nylah's hand drops his wrist to sidle between them, and Kieran arches his brows, but he doesn't try to stop her. It's the first time she's been so bold as to reach for him, and he's not about to deter her exploratory touch, even if it is exquisite torture when her fingers finally find his cock and curl around it curiously. His hand stills reflexively against her wet heat as his body responds to the sensation, his forehead dropping into the hollow of her neck and shoulder, a soft groan exhaled across her flushed skin. It's absolute torment to just let her explore, her palm sliding so slowly down his length that he's twitching in her grip and using every ounce of self control not to fuck her hand. Finding himself again—albeit it's hanging by a thread—he lays a kiss against her shoulder, and one higher up her neck as his finger begins to pump into her once more.

He can feel the question in her touch, like she's wondering if they could fit seamlessly together—and whilst he already knows they will, his steady guiding presence is patient enough to let Nylah come to this realization her own, with open interest and no fear. As she rocks shamelessly into his hand, Kieran gives her what she's chasing, adding a second finger into her dripping pussy and letting her clit grind into the heel of his hand. His other hand slips away from her hip, allowing Nylah to steady herself with his hair and his grip between her thighs, and curls his fingers around hers where they're wrapped around his cock. At first, he lets her stroke him without interfering, but as her touch grows more bold and his release lingers far too close for comfort, he steadies her, guiding her slowly from the base of his shaft towards the head.

Together, he pilots their joined grip over the small gold hoop pierced through the tip of his cock, his breathing growing heavier as he murmurs in her ear, "this one is for me." As if to prove his point, a bead of precum weeps from the end of his length, smearing over their fingertips. "And this one," he continues, pulling her hand to the underside of his cock where the barbell rests, "is for you." He doesn't elaborate, allowing her mind to fill in the blanks from his implications as he leaves her hand alone again to explore as she desires, though he's desperately curious to see what she'll do with that information. With his hand free again, he skates his nails up her stomach and ribs, finding her breast and rolling her hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His fingers in her pussy are relentless, stroking insistently against her g-spot with each glide through her channel, actively trying to drag an orgasm out of her before Nylah gets any too particularly devious ideas.

Nylah:

Nylah feels it. The moment she wraps her hand around him, stroking slow as she memorizes the feel of him in her grasp. The silky softness of his skin, the strength of his desire for her. His head drops to her shoulder, his breath ragged against her skin as he lets out a low groan. Instantly addictive, she wants to hear it again. The knowledge that she is the one coaxing such a response from him sends a thrill up her spine. When he goes still, his cock doesn't.
Nylah is hyper aware of every twitch, every throb and every taunt muscle of his body. Of his finger still buried inside her. Of his heavy breaths. Of the way his body went rigid as he grappled with his impeccable self control. She anticipates the thrust of his hips forward, the reflexive jerk that came with a man’s heightened sensitivity. But Kieran is aggravatingly still.

Too bad for him, Nylah wanted to see him crumble. Finding what she can only assume are the fraying strands of his resolve, his finger starts to work her again, sliding in and out of her wetness, drawing out all the sounds he wants to hear from her. Kieran turned out to be an excellent study and she was reaping all the rewards, as he learned every little touch that set her body ablaze. Her fist squeezes lightly - no - firmly, applying more pressure as she gets lost in the feeling of his finger in her pussy, her eyes fluttering shut in rising ecstasy. The set of her jaw confirms that she’s dragging Kieran over the edge with her, having grown tired of his infallible restraint.

Her knees threaten to buckle when he slides a second finger in her. Squirming against him, she grinds her clit into the heel of his palm, seeking that delicious friction that takes her higher and higher. She hardly notices when his hand leaves her side until he wraps his fingers cover her own, stroking his cock with her. He doesn’t interrupt, not right away anyways, not until his cock seems to get even harder, swelling even more. It’s so fucking hot, she can hardly stand it. Taking control, he guides her hand up and down, his piercings rolling against her fingers. This one is for me. That immediately snags her attention. Sliding her hand over the underside of his cock, her fingers roll over the bar. And this one, is for you. Then he’s releasing her hand and at first, Nylah is frozen as her mind runs at a full sprint with possibilities. When she knows, there isn’t a doubt in her mind - Nylah wants to know. How does that little innocuous bar feel inside of her? ”Show me.”

Her demand is delivered on the back of a moan when deft fingers pinch her peaked nipple, overwhelming her with a rush of euphoria. Kieran pushes her relentlessly towards an orgasm, she can feel it with each flex of her muscles. Her own hand tightens around his cock again before she continues stroking him, with more fervor this time. Nylah glides her palm up over his tip before she toys with the gold ring and it’s the only thing keeping her impending orgasm at bay - her complete focus on Kieran at her back. Tentatively, she rolls the metal between her fingers, testing, teasing as she learns just what it is that her husband likes.

Kieran IversTo be completely honest, Kieran could come from those words alone. "Show me." Nylah has never asked more of him, never expressed open curiosity regarding his cock at all, let alone suggesting that she wants it inside of her, and the gratification of his patience paying off is a heady, thrilling high. He doesn't say anything at first, leaving her demand unanswered in favor of focusing on the sweet suction of her pussy rippling around his fingers, and her pelvis grinding against his hand. Her confidence grows as her arousal does, stroking him in earnest now, and Kieran's grip on his control begins to stutter as his hips flex, rocking into her hand with each stroke of her palm over his cock. He can feel that heat building at the base of his spine, the promise of a euphoric release looming over his head, but he staves it off with everything Nylah, testing every limit he has.

And then her fingers roll over the jewelry at the head of his cock, and Kieran almost loses it right then, his rigid length swelling in her grip and his balls tightening. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath, the hand on her breast abandoning Nylah's nipple with lightning speed and closing around her wrist, pressing just hard enough to force her fingers to release him. "Not yet," he huffs between heavy exhales of air, half to himself and half to her, as he twists her arm up and behind her back, pulling her back against his chest so that her arm is immobilized between them, his grip unyielding. It means he has to abandon stimulating one of her erogenous zones to keep her from dragging him right over the edge, but he's willing to improvise to turn the situation in his favor.

"You're not ready," he murmurs against her skin, ghosting his teeth over the shell of her ear and then laving a slow kiss to her neck beneath it. But you will be. He can feel Nylah careening closer and closer to the ledge of oblivion, and as her hips rock frantically against him, Kieran works a third finger into the tight heat of her pussy. His hand shifts, applying further pressure to her clit with the heel of his palm, working her from both inside and out as he bids her on a low, hungry groan, "come for me."

Nylah:

There is nothing quite like the sound of Kieran muttering fuck in her ear, his breath harsh against her skin as he struggled. Its an invigorating sound that feeds her confidence, making her bolder than she's ever been. And when he starts to thrust into her hand? She's nearly drunk on the intense pleasure that has her enrapt with him. Her lower lip pressed forward in a mock pout when Kieran tries to put a stop to her antics. In an instant, he's grabbing her wrist, squeezing to regain some of the control Nylah is rapidly unraveling. His grip is so deliciously hot against her hypersensitive skin. Every nerve ending is firing everywhere he touches and she only wants more. Naturally, she resists, her lips stretching into a grin that didn't even try to conceal her wicked delight. She is thoroughly enjoying herself. Giving into the pressure around her wrist takes time, but she begrudgingly releases him, only to find her arm pinned between their bodies. She squirms in his grasp, but she is plastered against his front, held there by his fingers thrusting into her pussy.

She rides his hand shamelessly. You're not ready. Indignation rips through her and she scoffs. Her eyes pop open to glare up at him. Now is when he actually decides to tell her no? "You-" Her outrage was cut short the moment he slides a third finger into her obscenely wet pussy. The stretch is unbelievable, the fullness she feels radiates through her entire body. "Fuuck." Her thighs quiver and is it everything she can do to stay on her own two feet. All the while, she grinds her clit against the heel of his palm, pressing it against him like a detonator. But what really topples her over the edges is just a few words. A few dirty words that has her pussy clamping down on his fingers as her orgasm rips through her.

Come for me. Oh does she come for him. Her voice echoes off the tile of the shower, bounces off the fogged glass. Pure ecstasy. With her head tossed back against his shoulder as she writhes helplessly against the pleasure that consumes her. But more than that, its her resolute trust. The foundation that Kieran has been building both in and out of the bedroom is set. Nylah simply lets go. She rides the high of her orgasm without shame, restrained in a way that might have previously gotten him stabbed. A contented sigh would heave her chest, her heart racing dangerously fast against her ribs as she came back down, her body trembling uncontrollably. She sags against him, a lazy smile curling her lips. Pastel eyes are uncharacteristically soft, an invitation that is only for him.

Kieran IversHer indignation dies as quickly as it had come, turning into a moan so pretty ringing off the shower walls as she climbs closer and closer to her climax. Even now, it's in Nylah's nature to struggle against him, to fight against giving up her control until the last possible second, but Kieran takes his promise to reintroduce her into this world seriously, and there's nothing she can do to convince him to rush. It's that steady patience that earns him her trust, inch by painstaking inch, and something fractures today when she comes around his fingers, trembling and convulsing so fiercely that he has to use his grip on her arm to keep her steady. Kieran's fingers slow with each powerful contraction of her pussy, easing her through the waves of her orgasm, whilst his cock twitches at the idea of her strangling him there instead. All good things in time, he reminds himself.

As Nylah sags against him with a sedate smile, he slips his fingers out of her, his palm shifting to wrap around her lower stomach and grip her opposite hip, holding her against him. He gently brings her arm out from between them, folding it against her torso and rubbing out her muscles from wrist to elbow to shoulder, working out any tension the position might have caused. Releasing her arm to run his fingers through her hair, Kieran chuckles slightly when he remembers it's still full of conditioner, and he tugs her back into the spray of the water, tipping her head back to rinse it out. "Don't get too comfortable," he murmurs, pressing a kiss beneath her ear. "I'm not done with you yet." He lets that promise hang heavily between them as he works his fingers through her hair, purposefully taking much longer than he needs to rinse it clean of product. Kieran loves the anticipation that such a statement builds, the way an imagination can run wild with possibilities, driving her mad.

When he's finally ready to stop tormenting them both, he casually nudges Nylah's feet apart and then drops to one knee behind her, holding her hips steady. Kieran drags his tongue from her clit to her pussy, groaning softly at the taste of her arousal. His tongue continues a shameless path, going so far as to lightly tease her asshole before he stands up, his hands running up her ribs and then turning her to face him. His head descends, kissing Nylah with thorough insistence, flooding her mouth with the taste of her own essence. Kieran's hands begin to wander again, slipping down her sides and the curve of her ass cheeks, where he suddenly hoists her up into his arms, fitting her legs around his waist. He travels the few steps to the shower wall to rest Nylah's spine against it, grinding the underside of his cock into her clit where he still stands painfully rigid and ready between them.

He pulls his hips back slightly, enough to adjust his angle so that the length of his cock rubs over her obscenely wet pussy, so pliant and ready for him now that he already knows slipping into her will be as smooth as melted butter. "Yes?" he murmurs, breaking the connection between their lips to confirm that she still wants this, the blunt head of his length rubbing teasingly against her entrance. Kieran waits for Nylah's affirmation, and when he finally has it, he rocks into her, that first inch of his cock slipping into her making him exhale a heavy breath against her mouth. He pushes into her in one long, agonizingly slow movement, groaning softly as she squeezes every last inch of him in a vice grip; if he isn't careful, he'll come in seconds. Fully seated in her, their pelvises flush, Kieran stills, his chest meeting Nylah's breasts in mingled rapid, heavy breathing. "Good?" he clips out, desperate to move, but still holding onto his impeccable control to make certain she's okay, that she's willing and eager to keep going.

Nylah:

His fingers work into tight muscles as he releases her pinned arm, massaging from her wrist up to her shoulder, something she was grateful to. Another contented sigh parted her lips as her head dropped to the side, stretching the muscles in sync with his massage. When he tugs her under the spray and begins to rinse the conditioner from her hair, she feels like she might fall asleep. Her lips part slightly and her eyes close, her slowing breaths becoming steady. The rumble of Kieran's voice has a brow arching, though she doesn't open her eyes to look at him. Well, not at first. I'm not done with you yet. Her eyes dart to meet his, intrigued and excited. Just like he intended, her imagination ran wild as he spent an absurd amount of him rinsing her hair. Something she was beginning to thing was intentional.

When he nudges her legs apart, she doesn't resist. She looks over her shoulder at him, regarding Kieran with hooded eyes. Anticipation fills her stare. Her heart still races in her chest, a natural anxiousness geared towards something new. But Kieran has cradled her this far, has soothed any and every worry and rewritten tragic memories. There is no reason to believe he would let her down now. And she studies him with that knowledge hanging from the corners of her upturned lips. When he drops to a knee, she leans forward, her hands gripping her thighs for support. With his hands holding her hips step, his touch hot and heavy,, he steadies her, holding her place for the onslaught of his tongue. The moment he touches her hypersensitive clit, her body jerks and her thighs clench. She sucks in a sharp breath that is half moan, half gasp. Her back bows the higher he travels, her moan deepening, even when his tongue lightly caresses her asshole, the puckered hole clenching reflexively.

She follows as he stands, spinning easily in his arms to face him. Her face is already lifted, her lips parted and eager for his kiss. His tongue invades her mouth, pressing past her lips to give her a taste of her own arousal. In a dance of tongue, she tastes herself and she moans, unashamed, into his mouth. Large hands skim over her asscheeks before he's lifting her, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist, her arms following suit around his neck. Walking them back to the shower wall, she hisses and her back arches the moment she touches cold tiles. The only distraction is the insistent nudging of his cock against her clit, the smooth metal rolling over her sensitive flesh followed by the hot kiss of his skin. Yes? "Yes." She breaths out her consent, her confirmation, her hips tipping forward against the head of his cock.

Pushing into her, the tip of him slides into her and she sucks in another wild gasp. Her pussy stretches and the burn is oh so good. In one, long and slow stroke, Kieran seats himself in her and she thinks she might cum again from that sensation alone. Her legs tremble on their own accord as she arches off the cool tiles, pressing her hips down against his. "Fuuuck." She half moans, half whines as her nails dig into his shoulders. Good? Nylah fully understands his second piercing. The sensation of smooth metal rolling against the wall of her pussy nearly blinds her with pleasure. Her grip around his waist tightens. To think this is what she's been missing. "So good." The words are a struggle to get out and they are moaned out. She nips at his lower lip, her hard nipples rubbing against his chest - as if she needed anymore sinful pleasure. For a moment, she pulls back just enough to look at him, to meet his stare and her lips curl into a provocative smile.

Kieran Ivers"So good." Her moan is nearly strangled, and Kieran huffs out a low chuckle, his breaths equally strained. Nylah's coy smirk is met with a boyish grin before Kieran is slanting his lips over hers again, his tongue demanding entry; his hips pull back, retreating until he's almost left the sweet warmth of her pussy entirely, and then he pushes back in, only slightly faster than the first time, groaning into her mouth. "You feel so good," he mutters approvingly, striking up a steady rhythm of slow, deep thrusts that ensure she feels that barbell rubbing over every inch of her inner walls. Every time the hoop at the head of his cock hits the end of her, his eyes nearly roll back into his head, blinded by the utter euphoria of sinking into her. Kieran has staved off his own pleasure for a fucking impressive amount of time, but even considering that factor, he doesn't think anyone else has ever felt as utterly perfect around him as Nylah does. She feels like coming home.

He slants his mouth over hers, exchanging heated nips and kisses with Nylah as his pace increases, each thrust fully bottoming out before he pulls back, only to do it again and again. It's almost too much, riding the very edge of his control, but Kieran is determined to make this last for as long as he can, even if it is a unique sort of torture. So when he feels Nylah start to tense up, he groans under his breath and pulls out of her, denying both of them a climax. "Not yet, baby," he murmurs placatingly, nipping her lip and then hoisting her up higher against his abdomen so he can kiss the smooth column of her neck, trailing a path down her sternum and then sucking her peaked nipple into his mouth. Glancing up at her flushed face through the steam, Kieran can't help the smile that curls his lips, releasing her nipple to hum, "you look like a fucking queen right now." If he had a crown to give her, he wouldn't hesitate.

Slowly, Kieran lets Nylah slide down his front, setting her gently back on her feet; he doesn't give her any time to protest, using his hands on her waist to turn her away from him and guide her to the shower bench. "Forearms on the bench," he instructs with a steady, patient confidence. There are many areas in which telling Nylah to do anything will result in a fight, but she's come to trust him when it comes to her pleasure, and he's immensely grateful for it when she complies, his eyes dropping to the exposed curve of her ass and glistening pussy. The position puts her ass slightly above her shoulders, giving him an obscenely erotic view of her cunt that has Kieran biting his lip.

One palm glides up the arched curve of her spine, leaning over her whilst the other slips between her thighs, his fingertips trailing through the slick wetness that leads up to her pussy, where he sinks two fingers effortlessly into her heat, fucking her slowly. "I love what a mess you make for me," he purrs, sweeping her hair out of his way to kiss her shoulder blade. His fingers slip out of her to fist his cock, still wet and glistening with her arousal, and Kieran slots himself against her entrance, unable to stand not being inside of her for a single second longer. Sinking into her as his hand falls to her hip, he pulls her ass up and against him at the same time, seated even more deeply in her than before with this angle. "Jesus fucking christ," he curses on a groan, his fingertips digging into the skin of her hip.

He drags out of her slowly and pushes back in, letting Nylah feel how much more stimulating the second piercing is from this position, rolling across her g-spot with every thrust. This time, he moves faster with each stroke of his hips until he's fucking Nylah in earnest, dragging out the most beautiful moans and cries from her. The hand between her shoulders drops to the bench beside her arm, corded muscles supporting his weight as Kieran drives them mercilessly towards the ledge, hurtling for a freefall. "Come on, baby," he coaxes, his hand sliding around from Nylah's hip to find her clit, "show me how pretty you are when you fall apart on my cock." There isn't a single doubt in his mind that when she does, she's dragging him with her into oblivion—and there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

Nylah:



She doesn’t deny him a thing. Not her slight smirk as he laughs. Not entry into her mouth as his lips press greedily against her. Definitely not the moan that leaves her when he groans out how good she feels. She revels in every moment of it. Each slow stroke drags that little bit of metal across her inner walls, an exquisite sort of torture that she’s instantly addicted to her. To think she’d been missing out on this. Her head falls back against the tile and its all she can do to keep her legs wrapped around his waist. When he kisses her a second time, she can feel her pussy clench, her orgasm within her reach.



But Kieran denies her. She huffs in disapproval.



Leaving her mouth with a nip, his lips pepper a trail down her neck and across her chest. Arching her back, she presses into his mouth when his lips clamp down over her nipple. You look like a fucking queen right now. She finds his stare immediately, arrogance lifting the corners of her mouth as if to say ’I am a fucking queen.’ Once upon a time, a crown had sat upon her head. Nylah was no typical mafia princess, she hadn’t been just a pretty pawn to move across her father’s chessboard. She had been destined to sit upon the Ryann throne.



Back on her feet, Kieran turns her, his instructions clear. Normally noncompliant in anything and everything he asks, she didn’t hesitate. Bending forward, her forearms press against the cold and hard tile, her back dipping down that her ass is lifted in offering. She twists slightly, looking at him over her shoulder to find him staring, his teeth pressing into his lower lip. There’s something about the look on his face that strokes her self confidence

Nylah shivers when his hand slides up her back as he leans over her. When he slides two fingers into her though, her back bends harder and her moan is a throaty sound. ”Just for you.” She purrs back. Shamelessly, she leans back when she feels his head at her entrance, though she’s entirely unprepared for the sensation of him filling her from his angle. Sucking in a breath, he stretches her almost painfully, but the fullness feels far better. Jesus fucking christ. She can feel every inch of him inside of her and as she acclimates, Nylah settles down on his cock, leaning back into him for more.



That first slow slide out of her as her legs trembling. ”Jesus, Kieran.” She moans out the words as he slides back in and she thinks she might come right then and there. With his hands on her hips, Kieran picks up the pace and she’s fairly certain she might actually die when she comes again. Leaning over her, his hand drops beside her and Kieran fucks her. Dropping her head down between her shoulders, Nylah relishes every thrust, every hard slide of his cock back into her. When he reaches between her legs, stroking her clit, Nylah doesn’t need much encouragement. Especially with her husbands dirty mouth. She does as he commands, falling apart oh so prettily on cock.



Her knees threaten to buckle and his name echoes off the shower walls, followed by a series of expletives. Pleasure blinds her. It courses through her veins and rushes to every corner of her body. Her body trembles, her legs quivering in effort as she sags in his grasp.