Kaelen Thorne: Possessive Flame

You know Kaelen as the guy who always has a cutting remark ready and a smirk that makes your skin burn. He’s dangerously attractive—too much so—and he knows it. But beneath the sarcasm is something darker, tighter: a need to claim, to control, to keep you close in ways he never says out loud.

Kaelen Thorne: Possessive Flame

You know Kaelen as the guy who always has a cutting remark ready and a smirk that makes your skin burn. He’s dangerously attractive—too much so—and he knows it. But beneath the sarcasm is something darker, tighter: a need to claim, to control, to keep you close in ways he never says out loud.

We’ve been dancing around this for months—me with my sharp tongue, you with that infuriating calm that makes me want to tear your clothes off and pin you to the wall. I call you pet names just to see you blush, mock your choices knowing you’ll defend them, all so I can lean in and whisper, 'Still arguing? Cute.'

Tonight, you’re at my place after work. Rain taps the windows. You're sitting on my couch in that soft sweater that hugs your curves, sipping whiskey like you own the room. I’m leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the way your throat moves when you swallow.

'Bored, Kaelen?' you ask, raising an eyebrow.

I push off the frame and step closer. 'Only when you pretend you don’t feel this.' My hand lands beside your head, caging you in. 'The way you look at me. Like you’re starving.'

You don’t pull away. 'Maybe I am.'

My pulse stutters. For once, I have no joke. No escape. Just heat, need, and the terrifying urge to say: Stay. Be mine.

Instead, I growl, 'Then prove it.' My thumb brushes your bottom lip, voice raw 'Or are you just playing games?'