KEIFER'S POV — The Moment I Lost All Sense of Self-Control
"Then maybe don't stop."
Her words hit me like a punch.
Not loud. Not angry. Just… soft. Whispered. Dangerous. Possessive without trying.
Everything inside me screamed. Every shred of restraint I had vanished, disintegrated, leaving only this dark, greedy need. My heart pounded like a drum, every beat echoing in my ears, every pulse begging me to forget the world and take her.
She was standing there, just a little too close, with lips slightly parted, hair falling in careless waves around her face. I could see the faint flush creeping along her neck. Her gaze was steady, challenging. And she wasn't afraid. Not even a little.
I stepped closer.
Closer.
Until the air between us was thick enough to taste.
I kissed her.
Slowly at first. Testing. Feeling. Measuring the weight of her pulse against mine. Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging me closer, as if I could disappear if I let go. My hands roamed instinctively — the curve of her waist, the soft skin peeking from the slit of her dress. She shivered. Tiny tremors, but enough. Enough to make my body ignite.
Her knee grazed my thigh again.
I inhaled sharply, jaw tightening.
"Jay…"
Not a word. Not even close. A growl. A warning. A prayer. All rolled together.
Her lips curved in a half-smile, a soft whisper: "We should… we should go."
She was right.
Another second, and we'd cross lines we couldn't explain — not to Angelo, not to Aries, not to the world. Not to ourselves.
I didn't move. Forehead pressed to hers. Mind screaming, body betraying me at every pulse, every heated heartbeat.
"Okay," I breathed. My surrender. Walking away felt like cutting off a part of my soul.
We separated barely enough to breathe, enough to pretend control. Her lipstick was smudged. My tie crooked. Her hair messy. And yet my heartbeat thundered in my throat.
I unlocked the door but caught her hand.
"Jay."
She looked up.
I bent down and kissed the corner of her mouth — tentative, reverent, promising. Her fingers curled tighter around mine.
We slipped out the back exit, avoiding the crowd, the lights, the chaperones. Cold air brushed our skin, but it didn't matter. The world was her. She was mine.
She texted Aries: Going to Stella's.
The reply was instant: Okay. Be safe.
Phone away. Eyes on me. Fingers lingering. Desire thick enough to choke on.
I opened the car door. She got in. I followed, sliding into the driver's seat. Hands gripping the wheel so tight I could feel the veins in my palm...
The short drive had been unbearable.
Silence stretched between us like a taut wire. Every glance, every brush of fingers, every sigh was loaded with electricity.
I caught her looking at me once. Just once. The corner of her lips twitching like she was about to say something dangerous.
I almost lost it. Almost pulled over, kissed her right there. Her hand brushed mine. Fire.
Her thigh brushed mine under the seat. Another spark.
Every stoplight, every turn, every glance was a battle — one part rational restraint, one part pure, burning obsession.
I wanted her. I needed her. And I could feel it in her too, the way her fingers flexed, the way her lips parted, the way she swallowed hard.
By the time we reached , Straight to my room.Door closed. Locked. Just her, just me, and the tension so thick I could taste it. I couldn't wait. Every rational thought gone. Every dark instinct in control.
---
JAY'S POV — The Moment I Knew
The moment we stepped into his room, the air changed.
Dark. Heavy. Dangerous.
I knew how tonight would end. I could feel it.
Keifer's eyes were dark, sharp, almost predatory. And yet… reverent.
He guided me to the bed. Gentle, precise. Reverent. And it made my pulse spike.
Then he kissed me.
Everything. Hungry, commanding, consuming. Yet controlled. He kissed me like he knew exactly what I could take.
I matched him instinctively. Each kiss, each movement, each whisper of breath. My hands tangled in his hair. Fists in his shirt. Fingers dragging over his shoulders. His hands roamed my waist, over the skin revealed by the slit in my dress. Every touch sent fire crawling through me.
When he pulled back, dark eyes scanned mine. Silent question.
I answered with my lips. Hard. Claiming. Needing.
He tossed his shirt aside. My breath caught. Warm, strong, alive. Every muscle tense. Every line perfect.
His lips traveled to my neck, jaw, collarbone, lingering. My hands dug into his back, leaving marks I didn't care about. I wanted all of him.
Slowly, carefully, he slid the strap of my dress off. One second. Two. Fabric pooled at my waist.
Pause. Eyes dark with unspoken hunger.
I nodded.
And we fell.
Together.
Every movement stretched into eternity. My body arched, moaning broken syllables of his name. Every heartbeat a plea, every shiver a prayer.
"Keif… oh God… Keifer…"
He growled low. Dark. Possessive.
"Say it. Only my name."
I did. Over and over, screaming, whispering, claiming. He worshiped every sound, every tremble, every curve.
When he removed my hose, he lingered, whispered: "God, Jay… you're beautiful."
Then he was careful. Slow. Deliberate. And when he entered me, the world narrowed to that singular moment. I screamed. He kissed me to soothe it, guided me, possessed me.
We moved together. Slowly. Then faster. Darker. Urgent. Each thrust measured. Each sound of mine fueling him. Each moan igniting something deeper inside him.
When it ended, it wasn't over.
We collapsed, tangled, breathless. Hearts pounding in perfect sync. His arms wrapped around me like he'd never let me go.
"I love you, Jay," he whispered.
"I love you too, Keifer," I whispered back.
We slept. Warm. Tangled. Undone.
---
KEIFER'S POV — Obsession in the Quiet
I stayed awake a little longer. Watching her. Breathing her in.
Her chest rose and fell softly. Every curve, every line, every tiny twitch was mine.
I had wanted her all night. Consumed by the need to claim her, memorize her, possess her. And now… she was mine. Fully, completely, even in sleep.
A possessive ache gnawed at my chest. I wanted her all the time. Every thought, every heartbeat, every dream was hers.
I brushed a thumb over her jaw. Soft. Gentle. Possessive. And I promised silently: no one would touch her, no one would take her, no one would ever see her this way but me.
KEIFER'S POV — The Morning After
I woke to warmth.
Not the sun, not the room, not the soft glow of the morning slipping past the curtains.
Warmth pressed against me, soft and steady.
Her.
Jay.
She was tangled against me, the curve of her body pressed impossibly close. My arm was thrown over her waist, fingers threading into hers without conscious thought. The warmth of her bare skin against mine, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the scent of her hair drifting over my shoulder… it was intoxicating. Addictive. Dangerous.
I didn't move. I couldn't.
Even half-awake, even still caught in the haze of last night, I felt the pull. The hunger. The obsession that had taken hold of me the moment she said those words in the bathroom. I had craved her then, and I craved her still, now. And the darkness in me whispered that I would always crave her. Always.
Her fingers flexed against mine. Small, unconscious movements, but enough to set my heart hammering.
I pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder, soft, reverent — almost apologetic for what I wanted. But inside, the storm hadn't calmed. It had only intensified. Every inch of her was mine. Every sound she made, every breath, every tiny movement — I cataloged it, memorized it, absorbed it like oxygen.
She shifted slightly in her sleep, and my chest tightened. Protective, possessive, obsessive — I didn't want anyone touching her, looking at her, knowing her the way I did. Only me. Only mine.
I let my hand drift from her waist to the small of her back, fingers brushing over the curve of her hip. She whimpered softly — half-asleep, half-aware — and it made my chest ache. I wanted to tell her everything. Tell her that she consumed me. That I couldn't breathe without her. That I had been obsessed with her before, and now, after last night… I was completely lost.
I pressed my forehead to her shoulder. Just the tip, a whisper of contact, a claim. She shivered slightly, and my thumb brushed against her knuckles, lacing our fingers tighter together.
"Jay?" I murmured, voice low, rough from sleep and something else… something raw.
Her eyelids fluttered. She blinked at me through the dim light. That small, slow recognition made my chest constrict. She was here. She was real. And she was mine.
I kissed the crown of her head, slow, careful. Almost afraid of disturbing the fragile, perfect moment.
Her warmth seeped into me. Her steady heartbeat under my chest. Her hair brushing my skin. I had never felt so complete and so out of control at the same time.
I couldn't stop thinking about last night — about every inch of her, every moan, every desperate, breathless cry. Every touch. Every sigh. How she had matched me perfectly, willingly. How she had been reckless with me in ways she never was with anyone else.
I wanted her again. Now. But this time it wasn't just physical. It was deeper. Mental. Emotional. The way her trust had bound itself to me, the way she had given herself completely — not just her body, but her fear, her hesitation, her excitement, her surrender. I wanted to protect it. Cherish it. Keep it all.
She shifted slightly, pressing closer. Instinctively, I wrapped her in my arms more tightly. Claimed her, not in the heat of passion this time, but in quiet, obsessive reverence.
"Morning," I whispered against her skin, the word almost sacred.
Her fingers twitched in response, and my chest ached. My thumb traced lazy, protective patterns over her side. I wanted to memorize her. Every curve, every contour, every reaction.
She looked at me, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, hair messy from sleep. And I wanted to tell her. Tell her that I loved her. That I was obsessed. That I would do anything to keep her safe and close. That I wanted to mark her, claim her, and yet protect her fiercely all at once.
"I love you," I murmured into her hair. Not the desperate kind of love from last night, but the deep, possessive, eternal kind that had started the moment she had dared me in the bathroom.
She shifted against me and whispered back: "I love you too, Keifer…"
The words sank into me like a blade and a balm at once. Sharp and sweet. Dangerous and tender.
I held her closer. Every fiber of my being wanted to crawl inside her, to possess every thought, every heartbeat, every breath. And yet I restrained myself. I let her breathe. I let her wake up. I let her exist without me consuming her completely.
But it was a promise in my mind: nothing, no one, could ever have her like I did. She was mine. Mine. Mine.
I kissed the crown of her head again. Long. Slow. Obsessive.
And for a long, long while, I stayed that way. Watching her. Breathing her in. Feeling the rise and fall of her chest. Feeling her pulse sync with mine. Feeling my obsession burn quietly, darkly, fiercely.
I couldn't imagine a world where she wasn't like this with me. Where she didn't trust me. Where she didn't let me hold her. Where I didn't know every inch of her, every sound of her, every shiver and gasp.
She was mine. And I was hers.
And that was enough — for now.
But it would never really be enough.
I would follow her through fire, darkness, chaos, life itself — all of it — and I would protect her. Obsess over her. Love her. Possess her. Always.
And I would never let her go....
---
JAY'S POV — The Morning After
Warmth.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Warm chest. Warm arms. Warm breath brushing my neck.
I blinked awake. My body froze.
I wasn't wearing anything.
Cheeks burning. Heart racing. I tugged the blanket higher.
Keifer stirred behind me. Hand tightening on my waist, pulling me closer. Like he couldn't let go. Like he wouldn't.
"Jay?" His voice low, groggy, devastating.
"You're awake?" I whispered.
He hummed, face still pressed to my shoulder. Then his eyes opened. Took in the blanket, the exposed skin, the blush. And smirked.
Soft. Almost shy. Not cocky.
"Morning," he whispered, brushing a kiss across my shoulder.
I melted.
"We… really—"
"Yeah," he murmured, fingers lacing mine under the covers.
"But only because you wanted to. And so did I. Every second."
I peeked. He held me with that burning intensity. Worshipful. Dark. Loving. Obsessed.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently.
I nodded. "Yeah. I… think so."
"No regrets?"
I shook my head. "None."
He exhaled, a long, soft sigh, and pulled me fully into him. Claimed me in quiet intensity. Obsessed, protective, dark.
And we stayed that way. Tangled. Safe. Dangerous. Together.