A Luna for Alpha Kieran

Chapter 326: Cause and effects

(Back at Kieran’s end)The dark landscape was no more. There was light around Kieran.It was a room he was sitting in, no chains, no bondage.

The first breath Kieran took in this new awareness was shallow, the air tasting stale in his lungs. Consciousness returned not as a flood, but as a slow, creeping thaw. The world was a blur of muted colors and muffled sounds that gradually sharpened into focus. He was sitting on a cold, hard chair. The first thing he truly registered was the weight of the heavy presence in front of him.

Selene’s face bloomed in his vision, a vision that felt somehow delayed, like watching a recording a fraction of a second after it happened. She was smiling, a sweet, almost cherubic expression that didn’t quite reach the glittering depths of her eyes.

Her hands, soft but insistent, cupped his chin and gently, firmly, guided him into a sitting position. His body moved like it was made of wet clay, heavy and unresponsive, yet obedient to her touch. His eyes, when she positioned him to face her, were distant, focused on some point a thousand yards behind her head, or perhaps on nothing at all.

"There we are," she cooed, her voice a melodic whisper. She knelt before him, her movements filled with a proprietary grace. She reached for a new shirt, a fine, dark linen, and began to work it onto his passive form. His arms were dead weights that she lifted with an effort that made her breath catch,like she was fragile, vulnerable.

"Your son solved half of my problem, Kieran," she murmured, her tone conversational, as if she were discussing the weather. She leaned in close, her lips nearly brushing his ear as she guided his other arm through the second sleeve. "I thought it was all going to end, you know? Poof. Gone. All that beautiful work, just... undone." She pulled back and laughed, a sound that was light and carefree, yet echoed strangely in the silent room. "But that stupid bastard just played with time!" The laugh tapered off into a delighted sigh.

Her focus returned to him. She took his now-clothed arm in both hands, turning it over to admire the corded muscle beneath the linen. She brought it to her lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his forearm, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as if savoring the taste of him.

Then her hands moved to his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscle, kneading and stroking.She worked out tension that his body could no longer feel, adjusting the drape of the shirt across his broad chest, smoothing the fabric down his back.

Her ministrations were not for his comfort, but for her own aesthetic pleasure...like a sculptor admiring her finished work.

"This," she breathed, her voice thick with satisfaction, her hands now resting on his shoulders, "makes life so much better." She almost squirmed, a full-body shiver of pure, unadulterated delight.

She sat back on her heels, her gaze traveling over him from his distant eyes to the perfect drape of the shirt. "So much better."

A moment later, she moved. With a fluid grace, she climbed onto his lap.

Her hands came up to frame his face, her thumbs tracing the line of his jaw. She pulled his head down towards hers, his neck bending without resistance, and pressed her mouth to his.

As she kissed him, she began to move, a slow, grinding rhythm against him, dry humping with a desperate need.. She was lost in her own sensation, her own conquest.

Through it all, Kieran’s eyes remained distant, staring at the wall behind her.

The rhythm of her movements grew more frantic, more insistent.

Her breath came in ragged gasps against his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer even as he remained utterly still. The kiss broke only so she could gasp for air, her forehead pressed to his, her eyelids heavy with desire.

"Touch me," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Kieran, please. Touch me."

She waited, her body trembling against his, but nothing happened. His hands remained limp at his sides. His arms, those powerful arms ,they hung there, useless.

A sound escaped her throat, something between a whimper and a frustrated growl. She grabbed his right hand and pressed it to her breast, holding it there with both of her own. His fingers were warm through the thin silk of her dress, but they did not curl, did not squeeze, did not respond in any way.

"I need you to feel me," she said, her voice thick with desperation. She guided his hand down her body, over her stomach, to the heat between her legs. She pressed his palm against herself and rocked into his touch, seeking friction, seeking some sign that he wanted her back. "Please, Kieran.I know you can feel this."

She released his hand and it fell back to his side.She looked at his face anger bubbling inside her as she tried not to react.

"This isn’t how it’s supposed to be," she cupped his face in her hands again, forcing him to look at her, though his gaze would not meet hers. "You’re supposed to want me. Everyone wants me. I made sure of that. But you..." Her thumb traced his lower lip, trembling. "You were the only one who ever made me feel like I had to earn it. Like you were a prize I had to win."

She laughed bitterly, the sound wet with unshed tears. "And now I have you. All of you. Every perfect inch." She pressed her body against his, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face in the curve where his shoulder met his throat. She breathed him in, that familiar scent of him."But you won’t hold me. You won’t tell me I’m beautiful. You won’t pull me closer when I need you to...like you do with that Autumn."

Her hips continued to move against him, but the desperation had shifted. She kissed his neck, his jaw, the corner of his mouth.

"I could make you," she whispered against his skin. "I could weave another spell, give you just enough awareness to move when I want, to touch where I want." She pulled back to look at him, her eyes searching his vacant face for any flicker.

A single tear escaped.She wiped it away angrily, as if it had betrayed her.

"I waited so long for you to see me," she continued, her voice barely a whisper now. "Do you remember that night at

Her hands roamed his chest, feeling the steady, even heartbeat beneath. His heart still beat. His lungs still drew air. His body still lived. But he was gone, and she had done this to him.

She slid off his lap slowly, reluctantly, and knelt before him. She took his face in her hands once more and pressed a long, tender kiss to his forehead.

"I’m going to find a way," she promised him, her voice fierce with renewed determination. "I’m going to find a way to bring enough of you back that you can choose me. And when you do, when you finally look at me and really see me, you’re going to love me so much it hurts. Because I won’t settle for anything less."

She rested her head on his knee, her body still humming with unfulfilled need, and for a long moment, she simply stayed there, curled at his feet like a supplicant before an unhearing god.

"Just a little piece of you," she whispered. "That’s all I need. Just enough so you can hold me. Just enough so I’m not so alone."