Summary: A follow up piece to Can’t Stop, set after Dom is rescued from Hex.
Kenna is just settling into the uncomfortable chair in Dom’s room, prepared to spend the night keeping an eye on him, when Sei comes in and waves her off, telling her she looks terrible and needs to sleep.
“Thanks, Sei,” Kenna says sarcastically, but she smiles.
Sei shrugs. “We have no time for pleasantries. Rest. I will stay with him.”
Kenna can’t help but smile at the affectionate look that briefly crosses Sei’s face as she lightly touches Dom’s hand. Sei scowls when she realizes Kenna is still there. “Have you forgotten how to operate a door?”
“I’m going,” Kenna says with a quiet laugh, pulling Dom’s door closed behind her. She grimaces as she heads down the hall, more bruised and sore than she’d realized now that the adrenaline is wearing off. She checks on Whitlock on the bridge, manning the controls, and he assures her everything is fine and they’ll be back in Stormholt in the morning, then makes her way to her room.
She runs into Diavolos, literally, smacking into his chest as he comes out of his room.
“Oof!” He grabs her upper arms, steadying her, and she winces slightly as his fingers inadvertently press against a blossoming bruise.
He lets go. “Sorry,” he apologizes, then, “You look terrible.”
“Just what a girl wants to hear after battling a mind controller and a dragon,” Kenna retorts, rubbing her arm. “You’ve looked better, yourself.”
She eyes the scrapes and bruises littering his arms and hands. Diavolos raises an eyebrow suggestively. “Have I now?”
Kenna blushes. “That’s not what I-oh, shut up,” she stammers.
Damn him.
She’s exhausted and sore and wants to sleep, but now, with Diavolos just inches away and staring at her with those dark eyes, she feels heat rush to her belly and all she can think about is last night.
Diavolos peers down the hallway before stepping closer to her, backing Kenna into the wall. “What are you thinking about?” he asks in a low voice.
She focuses on keeping her breathing steady, even. “How tired I am,” she says nonchalantly.
“Are you sure?” He steps closer, hands dropping to her hips and squeezing lightly.
Kenna swallows back a moan. She doesn’t understand why he does this to her. She barely knows him, if she thinks about it; their families don’t have a good history together; she’s literally just been thrown around and knows she’ll really feel it in the morning, and yet here she is, memories of Diavolos’ hands and mouth and body moving against her flooding her thoughts.
“I think you’re lying,” Diavolos breathes in her ear. “I think you’re thinking about last night.”
“No,” she protests feebly, then makes the mistake of meeting his eye. His pupils are dilated as he watches her, and she feels her breath catch.
So much for one night getting him out of her system…
He exhales quietly against her. “That’s a shame. It’s what I’m thinking about.”
He steps away, dropping his hands, and she unintentionally lets out a noise of protest. Smirking, he crosses his arms, that cocky, self-assured grin back on his face.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Forget it,” Kenna says, straightening and pushing away from the wall. She’s setting herself up to get hurt, to possibly get the people of Stormholt and everyone else fighting with them hurt, if she lets this go beyond one night. No matter how much she wants to, no matter that she said she wouldn’t put a time limit on whatever this was. After everything that happened today, she’s questioning her ability to remain casual and emotionless about whatever this thing with Diavolos is.
“I’m going to bed,” she mutters, taking off for her room.
Diavolos frowns. “Kenna.”
She ignores him, speeding up when she hears him following behind her. “Kenna.” He snags her sleeve and she whirls around in annoyance.
“What?”
“You’re bleeding,” Diavolos says matter-of-factly, gesturing at her back.
“I’ll have Annelyse look at it.”
“She went to bed,” Diavolos remarks.
Kenna closes her eyes in frustration.
“I’ll manage,” she finally says.
“Kenna. Let me help you.”
She blows out a noisy breath. Turning, she nearly runs into him again, not realizing he was so close.
“…okay,” she sighs. They make their way into her room, Diavolos turning her desk chair around and pushing her towards it gently, then sitting on the edge of her bed. He pushes against her lower back, sliding her shirt up over her shoulders. He’s surprisingly gentle as he cleans the wound, and she rests her arms on the chair back, closing her eyes.
Kenna hisses as he applies antiseptic, grimacing at the stinging sensation. Diavolos blows on her skin softly and she shivers.
“Done,” he says quietly. He keeps his hands on her back, lightly caressing her bare skin.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
He makes a noncommittal noise, sliding his hands around to her stomach, pulling her back against him and lightly pressing kisses to the side of her neck.
Damn, damn, damn. WHY can’t she just…not feel this way about him? Everything would be easier if they could just work together to take down Azura, and then go their separate ways. But as much as her head is screaming at her to stop, to not let this go any further…she wants him. She’s drawn to him, for reasons she can’t quite define.
“Kenna,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue against her skin and biting her gently. She leans into him, sliding her hands over his.
“Do you want me to stop?” Diavolos asks against her ear.
“…no,” she moans. He pushes her forward, then pulls her to stand and turn around, tugging her down onto his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs. She sighs as he threads his hands into her hair and kisses her.
When they part, breathless and her cheeks flushed, she brings her hands up to his face.
“Why can’t I just hate you?” she whispers, expecting a sarcastic, cocky comment in return.
Diavolos brushes his lips over hers. “I don’t have an answer for you. I’ve been asking myself that same question since we met.”
Kenna pulls back, searching his face, running her fingertips gently across the scar running through his left eyebrow, down the bridge of his nose, over his lips. His stubble scratches her fingertips as she brings her hands up into his dark hair, pulling herself in to kiss him again. She feels him harden underneath her and groans, pushing her hips into his.
He hisses quietly against her as she wraps her arms around him to bring him closer. Frowning, Kenna stands and pulls his shirt over his head.
“You’re hurt,” she murmurs, brushing her hand over the bruise spreading across his ribs.
“I’ve had worse,” he replies, tugging at her hips.
“I don’t doubt it.” Kenna kneels, pressing gentle kisses across the bruise and down to his stomach. She pulls at his pants until he stands and shoves them down. She sinks back on her heels, running her hands up his thighs, but Diavolos shakes his head, sitting and pulling her back onto his lap.
“Next time,” he whispers.
Kenna smiles against him. “That was my line. You’re just hoping there’ll be a next time.”
Diavolos chuckles. “I am.”
It makes her breath catch in her throat, that simple line.
“Hey,” he murmurs, tilting her chin up so he can kiss her again. “Stop thinking so much.”
“I can’t,” she confesses. Her mind is in overdrive. What is this they’re doing? She tries to tell herself it doesn’t matter, doesn’t mean anything other than physical release, but with the way her heart is pounding and the way he’s looking at her, she knows that isn’t true.
“Then I need to do a better job of distracting you,” Diavolos replies, kissing down her neck.
He stands, pulling her clothes off slowly, almost reverently, then lays her down across the bed, lightly touching the many scrapes and bruises crossing her skin, frowning when he finds a particularly bad one and soothing it with his lips. He dips down between her legs, his breath warm against her, and she inhales sharply as he slides two fingers into her.
“Oh,” she moans, running a hand into his hair and tugging gently.
“More,” she pleads softly, whimpering as he pulls his hand away and slides his tongue against her. She nearly cries out as she comes undone under his skillful ministrations, biting her lip hard as she remembers the airship is full of other people.
Diavolos moves back up to face her, bringing his lips to hers and pulling one of her legs up and around him. He winces slightly, shifting his weight as he settles between her thighs.
“You’re going to make those injuries worse,” she murmurs against his mouth.
“I’ll be okay,” he groans. “I’ll just have to…go slow.”
Kenna snorts out a laugh and he shoots her a look. “Something funny, Queen Kenna?”
“I just can’t picture you going slow at this,” she giggles.
Diavolos narrows his eyes, grinning as he lightly bites her neck. “Challenge accepted. I’m a man of many talents.”
Before she can reply, he slides into her, and she groans at the feel of him, wrapping her legs around his back and thrusting her hips up into his. He drops his forehead against hers as she clenches her muscles around him.
“Gods, Kenna,” he groans. He bucks hard against her once, then resumes his gentle rhythm, mindful of both their bruises.
“Mmm,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss him. “You feel good.”
That line is his undoing, as he starts thrusting into her almost erratically. He slides his hand down, brushing his thumb over her clit. “Come for me, Kenna.”
He presses his mouth to hers, hard, stifling her cries as she falls apart underneath him, breathing hard as he pulls back. He yanks out of her suddenly and she slides her hand down, gripping him and massaging his length until he comes with a groan, collapsing against her.
His weight feels good against her, and she slides her free hand into his hair, scratching his scalp gently. He closes his eyes briefly, then presses a kiss to the side of her head and stands to retrieve a cloth, handing her one and sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I suppose it would also cause a scandal if I was seen leaving your room in the morning,” he remarks, grinning at her and winking.
She can’t help but laugh. “Yes…but you can stay for a while. If you want.”
“I want,” he answers, lying down beside her and pulling the blanket up over them. He rolls to his back, and she moves with him, settling her head over his chest, the soothing sound of his heartbeat under her ear lulling her nearly to sleep.
“I want things I probably shouldn’t,” she hears him whisper.
Kenna opens her eyes, lifting her head up. She threads her hand into his hair, leaning in to kiss him gently. “Me too,” she whispers against his mouth.
“When all of this is over…,” he says quietly, trailing off. He looks nervous, which she finds endearing. Never in her life did she think she’d see a Nevrakis nervous.
“I’ll be here,” Kenna murmurs, kissing him again.
That cocky grin slowly spreads across his face. “Of course you will be.”
She smacks his shoulder slightly and glares at him. Diavolos laughs, pulling her back down to lay against his chest. “I meant, of course you’ll still be here, you have several armies backing you up. No one could possibly take you down.”
Kenna rolls her eyes but can’t stop herself from laughing. “Sure that’s what you meant.”
Diavolos squeezes her lightly. “Go to sleep.”
“Yes, Prince Diavolos.”
He chuckles lightly. “That’s what I like to hear. Good night, Kenna.”
She snuggles in closer, pressing her lips against his chest and smiling as he twines their hands together. “Good night.”