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He shakes his head once, then scoots backward. He grips my hips and urges me to straddle him higher. His waist, then his chest.

I stare down at him. “What are you doing?”

He keeps pushing at me until I crawl over him.

“Tasting you,” he says. He stops me and drags my ass down. His face is right there. Between my legs.

Hot embarrassment flushes through me, and I lift again. Resisting the allure of him.

“Kian,” I protest.

“Sit on my face, Astra,” he orders. “Suffocate me, I don’t care. I’ll die happy.”

I bite my lip, but he pulls me down. My pussy makes contact with his mouth and my brain stops working.

If I thought his leg was good, it’s nothing compared to his mouth. His grip on me ensures that I can’t escape, and I don’t know if I want to run away or grind down harder.

He licks and sucks, paying attention to the spots that make me shiver, make me jump. He doesn’t do a half-assed job. He’s devouring me like this is his only reason for existing. And I’ve never had that before. Never had a guy seem so into me, that they’d want to give me pleasure for pleasure’s sake.

His tongue thrusts inside me, and oh my God. I’ve explored with fingers, but other than that… virgin status.

I hold on to the headboard when he takes my clit in his mouth. He sucks, licks. Bites. I see stars. That shouldn’t turn me on, but I get wetter when he does it. His groan only confirms it.

Eventually, an orgasm sneaks up on me.

He slips a finger into my pussy, and I clench at the sudden intrusion. He curls his finger inside me, rubbing a spot that sends zaps of pleasure coursing through me. It tips me over the edge, and I come wordlessly. My thighs tense, and I’d rise if I had the strength. Instead, he just rides out my orgasm with his tongue flicking my clit and his finger inside me.

He slowly pulls his finger out. He rolls me onto my back and crawls up my body.

“Your smell,” he growls. “Your taste. You’re divine. Made for me. There’s no other reason you’d be such a temptress.”

His lips skate along my jaw, and finally, he catches my lips. His tongue presses into my mouth, and I get a taste of myself.

The flavor is surprising. It tastes better mixed with his saliva. He braces his weight on his forearms, on either side of my head, and nips my neck. A little prick of teeth to cut through the pleasure.

I freeze.

He freezes.

I push away the pain associated with teeth in my neck, but the fear rises up my throat like I’m right back in that cell.

When I wrestle my mind back under control, Kian hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s rubbing his nose along my collarbone, content to wait for my death grip on his hair to loosen.

“Sorry,” I breathe.

He rises back up so we’re nose to nose. “Not your fault.”

And he’s still fully clothed.

“I could be sent from the Devil,” I say lightly. “No way something divine could be so unlucky.”

“I don’t believe in the Devil,” he tells me. “We’re spoon-fed tales of all-powerful beings who are supposed to dictate our life. I just believe in fate, and the powers of the moon, and life itself.”

My mother believes much the same. Fate, anyway, and the stars. She said that our lives, our futures, were constantly shifting. There wasn’t just one path for us—but sometimes, outcomes were inevitable. No matter what we did. That’s fate.

“You and my mom might’ve gotten along,” I say.

He chuckles. “Not anymore.”