Ohana Legacy: Thin Love Series Bundle, page 26
part #1 of Thin Love Series
“Shit,” he said through his teeth. That long vein on his neck throbbed and Keira got to her knees, licked against it, up his neck.
“You don’t have to hold back, Kona.” She took his ear between her teeth as she continued to rub him, each stroke making a shudder work in his chest. “I don’t want you to stop me.”
“Keira...shit.” He moved his hands in a flash, one going into her hair, pulling her head back so he could look at her in the dim light of her lamp, shadowing their faces; the other grabbing her wrist to stop her movements. “I swear to Christ, I can’t take you touching me. I want you too much.” Kona squeezed his eyes shut when she stroked him once more. “Five...five minutes ago you wanted me out of your life.” He pulled on her hair again, directing her mouth closer to his. “Now you wanna touch me? Now...now you want me? I don’t work like that anymore, Wildcat. Not with you. I...I love you too much to not want all of you.”
Keira pulled her hand back, and moved out of Kona’s grip, heart beating so quickly that she could feel the drum of it on her temples. “What did you say?”
Kona’s expression went soft, open and Keira loved the way his smile came easy, how his thumb rubbed over her face. She could only make out the faint outline of his shoulders, his hair, but she felt him. She felt him everywhere. “I love you, Keira and if we do this, right now, there will be no turning back. If you let me have you, that’s it for me. That’s it for you. I’m yours. Is that what you want?”
Dave Matthews still sang in the background, repeating over and over, and here Kona was, promising to crash into her, promising her all the things she didn’t know she wanted from him. He would be the end of her, she knew that, just then, in that moment. Kona Hale would love her, she didn’t doubt that, but would he stay? Would he break her heart again and again? She didn’t know if she could survive the destruction he’d leave behind if he left, if he broke her and left. She didn’t know if she was willing to gamble again, to risk the loss that love always brought.
“I...will you stop using? And don’t tell me you will just for me to say yes. I need you to be straight with me.”
“Fuck the juice, Keira.” He pulled her close again, breathing on her face as he dipped his forehead against hers. “You’re all I need. Just you. I’ll walk away from all it if I have you.”
“And...other girls?” She knew she sounded whiny, but the thought had not left her. It was the first thing that jumped into her mind the weekend before when she walked into the locker room. She couldn’t completely let go of Kona’s past and sometimes the thought of how many of those glaring idiots had touched him was just too much for her. “What about...”
Kona silenced her with a kiss and she didn’t fight him, couldn’t even if she tried. Too soon, he broke the kiss, his hand directing hers right over his hard length. “This...this is yours, Keira. No one else touches it but you.” And then he cupped her, those large fingers right on top of her throbbing center. “And this, this is mine.” Then Kona pulled his hand away, took her fingers and placed her palm over his heart. “This, sweetheart, is yours.” His hand felt warm on her skin and Keira wondered if he could feel how hard her heart pounded when he rested it there. “This beautiful, wild thing right here...it’s mine. Why don’t you stop worrying about what happened in the past and just take what’s yours?”
Keira knew she was being careless with those walls she’d constructed around her heart. They were rubble by now anyway, and Kona was an addiction, but he was also the only person in her life who would fight for her, who looked at her and didn’t see the mask she wore so no one knew who she really was. Keira took a moment, one small breath before she looked at him again.
“Whatever I am, it’s yours.” His expression was genuine, real, a grin that told her he was relieved, that eradicated that knot in her chest.
Keira didn’t want foreplay; she’d had weeks of it and all the dancing they did to avoid what was about to happen had left her exhausted. She pulled Kona closer, back against the mattress and Keira used her feet to push down his jeans and boxers.
Kona moved quickly, shuffling off his Nikes and jeans, a scramble of movements until he was finally naked. When he reached for her, wanting her closer, Keira stopped him, pushed him back. She wanted to see all of him.
“Go ahead and check him out,” he said, laughing at Keira’s wide eyes. “That expression is priceless, Wildcat.”
“This body is priceless.”
Keira cut off Kona’s laughter, made it shift into a moan with her fingers trailing down his large chest and her mouth over one nipple. She liked the breathless gasps he made. She liked how responsive he was, how every flick of her tongue against his skin had his breath heavier, had low, deep sounds rumbling in his throat.
Keira rested against him, breasts sliding down his stomach until she lifted up, reaching for him, taking him in her hand again. He was beautiful everywhere and his dick was no exception. He was long, very thick and at full attention, the head came to his navel. Fleetingly, Keira wondered if he would hurt her, it had been a year since she’d been with anyone and even though Kona had often touched her, stretched her with his fingers, it wasn’t the same. His fingers were big, but they wouldn’t touch as deeply as his dick. They’d never scared her.
She didn’t wait, didn’t push back the urge to taste him. When she did finally taste him, when the slow drag of her tongue went up the underside of that hard dick, Kona threaded his fingers in her hair, moaning, his grip tightening as she made tentative touches with her tongue and mouth. She’d never done this before. There had never been much time or opportunity or desire to play with Diego, and Kona had never let her get this close before.
He was tangy, the skin of his cock miraculously smooth like silk, and Keira wanted more, loved the taste of him, loved the power she felt when he reacted to just small flicks of her tongue and the tight suction of her mouth. When she used her hands, rubbing up from the base, Kona released the loudest moan she had ever heard him utter.
“Nope. Okay. Shit. That’s enough.” He pulled her up by the shoulders, flipping her over until he was on top of her. “Wildcat, I can’t take that.” He kissed her, took her bottom lip between his teeth for a soft nibble. “Your mouth is a miracle and I don’t wanna come until I’m inside you.”
She laughed at his expression, at the heavy sigh he released and pulled on his chin when he started to kiss her chest. “Then get inside me.”
Kona made a noise, somewhere between a whimper and a growl, but he cleared his throat, covering how her words had affected him. Then, he scrambled off the bed, dug in his jeans for his wallet. His strong, wide back was toward her, before he finally turned around and that beautiful dick was covered with a condom.
Some of the confidence went out of Keira. As Kona crawled back toward her, that long appendage slapping against his flat stomach, that thick hardness that was going to bury itself inside of her, she swallowed back the bundle of nerves clotting in her throat.
“What’s the matter, Wildcat?” Kona lay on top of her, held her hip with his long fingers. “You nervous?” She could only manage a nod and Kona moved his mouth to her neck, down her shoulder, kissing lightly. “We don’t have to do this. I can wait.”
“No!” She panicked at the thought. He laughed at her excitement and that touch on her hip got tighter. “No,” she said, voice a bit calmer. “I want you, Kona.” He looked at her, expression relaxed. “I’ve wanted you for weeks and weeks.” Keira exhaled, moving the hair off her forehead. “It’s just been a while and you’re so...” She flicked her eyes down then quickly back up again. “You’re a lot bigger than I expected.”
“Ha, sweetheart, you’re good for my ego, but it’s just me.” Kona kissed her again, slipping just the tip of his tongue into her mouth before he pulled away. “I’ll be easy with you, Wildcat. I’ll be so slow and good, but maybe this will help.”
Kona’s hand left her hip, slipped between her thighs easily and he coaxed more wetness from her, teasing her lips, taking his time to touch her clit. Keira shuddered, held her hand against his wrist as he continued and Kona took her lead, rubbed once more over her clit before he slipped two fingers inside her. He’d learned her body in the past few weeks and Keira had been grateful that she didn’t have to tell him what she wanted, what felt best. He always seemed to know.
His mouth was warm, tongue eager as he kissed her, as those large fingers curled and his knuckles touched the spot that sent her mind swimming. He never had to touch her for long, always knew exactly how to read the lift of her voice, the collection of sounds that gave away just how good she felt when he touched her. That night was no exception. Just a few sure rubs of his knuckles against her G-spot and Keira was flying, hips off the mattress as her body chased that orgasm.
“Beautiful. Every time, Wildcat. So beautiful.” Another kiss against her neck, with Keira still spinning on the crest of her orgasm and Kona slipped inside of her. “God...” Kona moved his hips slow, barely moved an inch and already Keira felt full, felt she couldn’t be stretched any further. When slid deeper, she hissed, not from the pain but from how sensitive she already was. “You okay? You want me to stop?”
“No,” she told him, opening her eyes so he’d know she wasn’t hurting. “God, no, please keep going. You just fill me up. It’s so good, baby.”
Kona stilled inside her and a small quirk of his mouth told Keira he was pleased. “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me that.”
“I’ll say it again just to keep that smile on your face.”
Then Keira lifted her legs, wrapped them around Kona’s hips and she let herself be filled as he worked inside her. Everything about Kona was huge; his body, his voice, his presence and all of it filled Keira’s room as well as her body, moved around them and through them and she felt high, so high on him, on the sensation of him moving inside of her, his hands on her breast, his fingers clasped with hers as he lifted her hands above her head on the pillow and pinned them there.
Sweat pooled over their skin, met together in the twist of their bodies and when Kona stared down at her, kissed her like her lips would give him breath, Keira shuddered, squeezed against him. The light was thin and Keira could only make out the outline of his features, the small glint in his eyes and it was too much, too overwhelming, but she would not run this time, she wouldn’t tell herself she could do without this. Not again. Not anymore. She belonged to him. Her body, her heart, no matter how beaten and worn it was, belonged to Kona Hale.
Keira squeezed against him again and Kona stilled, stared down at her with a smirk that told her he wanted to control this, lead her. “Don’t squeeze,” he said, pulling her hips up, hitting inside her deeper. “If you open up, baby, go wide for me, relax, I can make you come hard, I can make it last for you.” A slow thrust, deeper, harder and Keira arched against him, relaxed her inner muscle even as she throbbed against him. “Perfect, so perfect.”
It was deeper this way, freer somehow, letting Kona move them, letting him control the moment and Keira held onto Kona like he would anchor her, keep her from floating above herself.
“Let me have your orgasm, baby. Give them to me completely and I’ll make it so, so good for you. I’ll take care of you when you shatter against me.” And Keira listened, guessed that this is what Kona needed—that slip of control she gave him. She pushed out, relinquishing herself, her body to Kona, rather than closing off, pulling in and the effect was substantial. He moved in closer, worked faster and Keira let herself open, relax until that heavenly sensation came upon her, urged on by Kona’s strong hands on her hips, his wide dick touching all the way inside her and when the orgasm came, it mirrored her heart—free, unyielding, explosive.
“God...,” Kona said, voice rising higher and higher with each grunt he made, hips slamming into her hard, fast, faster, and Keira knew he was hitting his crest. Shoulders shaking, hips pumping faster and faster, Kona released a groan, filling her, throbbing inside her as he came.
Then he pulled his hand from hers and held the back of her neck, stared down at her with his thumb on her cheek. “This is always, Wildcat. You... you’re my always.”
Kona
The rain hadn’t stopped. Kona heard the slow thump against the makeshift patch he’d fashioned out of duct tape for the broken pane of glass on the French door. He felt like a jackass for kicking it in, but at the time, his thoughts had been on touching Keira, on holding her to make all her doubt vanish. He’d watched her with rain pouring over him, flooding his skin and he hadn’t felt a thing but the quick whip of anxious energy that made him kick in that glass.
Keira had looked so scared, so wild, so lost. She’d told him more than she ever had, about the loss of her father, the events leading up to that, and it broke Kona’s heart. There was something about her that made him want to protect her. He’d felt it that first night outside her dorm when he ran up to that asshole attacking her. The sensation of taking all that shit, all that pain from her had only increased the harder he fell for her, and that night with her raging at him, with her screaming secrets about what she’d done for her father, crippled him, had him wanting to cover her with his body just to hide her from the world. More pain would come, no one gets through it without feeling life’s bite, but Kona would kill himself to make sure he’d didn’t give Keira any of that pain himself.
A clap of thunder rattled the French door and Kona blinked, squinting, then frowned when he noticed Keira wasn’t in the bed with him. He came to his side, looked around her room, to the girly decorations littered around the room, the random collection of stuffed animal on the floor and he left the bed, pulling his damp jeans on.
“Keira?” he called into the en suite bath, but when he stepped inside, he only found a wet tub and two towels drying on the side of it. The whole room smelled like her, jasmine, sweet and just the scent made Kona hungry for her.
The house was ridiculous and he felt awkward and uncomfortable in the hallway, taking the stairs down, looking at the empty walls and the random décor that reminded Kona of a house that had never been lived in.
He was thinking of the difference in where he grew up and this place, shaking his head at the soulless opulence, at how pristine and orderly everything was, when the sound of a piano in the next room pulled his thoughts toward Keira.
He had been hoping he’d hear her sing. Up until now, Kona had only caught snatches of her voice, low hums and muffled songs through her dorm room wall, but he had always wanted her to sing for him. He wanted her eyes on him when she played, for her to voice the words only for him - but he wouldn’t push, knew he couldn't push.
“Music,” she’d once told him during one of their long library sessions, “is personal. The stuff I write is for me because it’s part of who I am. I don’t show just anybody who I am, Kona.”
The song she played was slow, soft tickles of the keys that had Kona closing his eyes, had his throat buzzing. As he walked barefoot over the hardwood, he made sure his steps were light, that he didn’t disturb her as she played.
Kona leaned against the wall, tilted his head to watch her. The den was an obnoxious, wide room that veered into two spaces. One side was for drinks and TV watching, he assumed, the other for staring through a floor to ceiling wall of glass that looked out onto the lake. Plants in heavy, wooden tubs were situated in each corner and thick rugs were flung over the dark wood floors; a huge mahogany entertainment center was off to the right. To the left was a brown leather L-shaped couch, plush and pillowed, chenille throws on the arms and across the back. But it was what was in the center of the room that caught Kona’s attention. Separating the two seating areas was a baby grand piano, black, shined to a high gloss with gold wheels and pedals, and “Steinway & Sons” embossed on the face in gold leaf. Keira sat in front of it in nothing but a thin, white robe that fell further off her shoulder the longer she played.
Kona couldn’t remember seeing anything more beautiful.
He watched for several minutes, loved the long, planes of her neck, the defined arch of her shoulders, but would not approach, wouldn’t touch. The song was familiar, something he didn’t think she’d written, and as she continued, humming just above each note, Kona realized it was, “Dark End of the Street,” a song his mother often sang when he was a kid.
Another pass of thunder rolled and a streak of lightning broke through the dark morning skies. Keira turned to watch through the glass wall, fingers still dancing across the keys and that’s when he saw it; the long bruise across her cheek. He felt sick, instantly thinking that somehow he’d left it on her face, but he couldn’t remember touching her, not like that.
He let the flashes of memory from the night before sort and play in his head, remembering nothing but the feel of her skin, the smell of her, how tightly she clamped around him, how being buried inside her felt like home, freed him, how it felt like a high. But none of those flashes explained that mark on her face.
Kona shot for calm, for patience, as he crossed the room, kneeling behind her. He wouldn’t bombard her with questions; he didn’t want to fracture the peace that swam in the house since the moment he told her he loved her. It had been spoken so easily, a second nature that felt instinctive, necessary. Honest.
Keira continued to play, the slow refrain of “Dark Side of the Street” eerily haunting, mesmerizing, but she arched her neck, let her head fall to his shoulder and Kona got a better look at the bruise. Two long, purple lines, faint, but clear. Finger marks. Thin, feminine finger marks.
Motherfucker, he thought, trying to calm the fury building, the mounting speed of his heart.
Her eyes were closed, her expression easy, content, and Kona hated to pull her out of that emotion, hated that those moments of happiness Leann mentioned had been fleeting, were fleeting. Keira deserved happy. She deserved a hell of a lot more than the shit her mother gave her.
