Heat.
That was the first thing that hit Kaya’s mind.
Not normal warmth, not a simple fever. The sa wrong kind of heat she’d seen once before—on Veer’s face, that night when everything went sideways and she lost her waist for two days straight and couldn’t feel real strength in her legs for almost a full day. She still rembered the way his eyes had gone hazy, the way his breath had turned rough, the way her own body had betrayed her. That whole scene was carved into her nerves.
Now Cutie was standing in front of her with the sa look.
His cheeks were flushed deep red, eyes unfocused, chest rising like every inhale was too heavy. Sweat clung to his skin, making his hair stick and his shirt darken. Kaya didn’t have to guess—her instincts were already screaming this was the sa state, the sa kind of forced heat, the sa dirty trick.
And then, like the world wanted to prove it, Cutie leaned forward and pressed his head into her palm.
It was such a small movent, but it made everything feel closer. Her hand was still on his forehead, and now his weight settled into it, warm and solid and strangely soft. Kaya’s face went hot. It pissed her off that it did. No matter how large and muscular Cutie looked from the outside, his gentle nature and quiet, soft behaviour always gave off a teddy bear vibe. Even now, with his body burning and his breath uneven, he looked... cute. Not like his usual distant self who stayed in the corner, watching and saying nothing.
Her fingers curled slightly against his skin, supporting him so he wouldn’t slide.
The gun in her other hand suddenly felt wrong—heavy, useless against this kind of attack. Her grip loosened for just a second, and tal brushed her thigh.
Kaya’s jaw clenched.
This was no ti to give in to whatever was trying to crawl under both their skins.
"Cutie," she said, voice low and tight, "look at ."
His lashes fluttered, eyes dragging up to et hers, hazy and glassy. It made her chest feel strange, like her heartbeat had shifted.
She couldn’t let that feeling grow.
Kaya stepped in, shoulder to his chest, and guided him sideways, one arm braced around his back, the other steady near his collar. The gun slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud, forgotten for now, because if she didn’t hold him, he was going to drop.
She eased him onto the bed, not gentle but careful, like setting down sothing heavy that she refused to break.
Cutie’s eyes cleared for one sharp second, like the haze burned off just enough for sothing deeper to take hold.
Before Kaya could pull back or push him away, his hands moved—big, steady despite the fever—and caught her wrists. Not rough. Firm. Like he’d decided sothing and wasn’t asking permission anymore.
"Kaya," he said, voice low and wrecked, but sure. "Let ."
Her breath caught. She opened her mouth to snap no, to take control back, but he didn’t wait. He twisted their bodies in one smooth shift, rolling her under him on the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, pinning her there—not trapping, but holding, his knees bracketing her hips, his chest hovering close enough that she felt every ragged inhale.
The gun slipped from her fingers completely this ti, clattering to the stone floor. Forgotten.
Cutie’s hands slid up her arms, slow and deliberate, thumbs pressing into the soft insides of her elbows, then higher, until his palms cupped her face. His skin was hot, slick with sweat, but his touch was careful, like he was morizing her. His eyes locked on hers—hazy still, but burning with sothing that wasn’t just the jinx. Need. Want. The kind he’d hidden in corners for too long.
He leaned down and kissed her.
Not soft. Hungry. His lips parted hers, tongue sliding in deep, tasting the salt on her mouth, the sharp edge of her breath. Kaya’s hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer even as her mind scread to stop, to think, to check if this was real or twisted. But his mouth moved like he knew her—knew how to tilt her head back, how to nip her lower lip until she gasped, how to swallow the sound.
Cutie broke the kiss just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. His chest was broad, muscles tight from work and worry, skin flushed red and gleaming with sweat. He didn’t give her ti to stare. His hands went to her top next, fingers hooking the hem, pulling it up slow so she could stop him if she wanted.
She didn’t.
He peeled it off her, cool air hitting her skin, then his mouth was back—trailing hot, open kisses down her throat, over her collarbone, teeth grazing just enough to make her arch. Kaya’s nails dug into his shoulders, leaving red lines, but he groaned into her skin like he liked the sting.
"Cutie—" she started, voice breaking.
"Quiet," he murmured against her breast, breath hot. His hand cupped her there, thumb circling slow, teasing the peak until it hardened under his touch. Then his mouth followed, lips closing around her nipple, tongue flicking wet and firm. Kaya’s hips bucked up, heat pooling low in her belly, thighs clenching around him.
He didn’t rush. Even burning up, he took his ti—sucking, licking, his free hand sliding down her side, fingers splaying over her hip, dipping under her waistband. Kaya’s breath hitched as he tugged her pants down, inch by inch, exposing her skin to the cave air. He kissed lower, across her ribs, her stomach, nipping the soft skin above her hipbone until she was panting, fingers tangled in his hair.
Cutie shifted back up, shedding his own pants fast, his cock springing free—thick, hard, flushed like the rest of him. He pressed between her thighs, rubbing against her slick heat, not entering yet, just sliding, teasing, letting her feel how ready he was. Kaya’s hands gripped his ass, pulling him closer, urging.
"Please," she whispered, hating how needy it sounded.
User Comments
0 comments from readers