Killian made a quiet sound against her mouth that almost didn't sound human.

Rough enough that Claire felt it more than heard it.

His hand tightened instinctively at her waist before immediately loosening again, as though some reflex inside him had reacted faster than control could suppress it. 

And Claire—God, Claire noticed that too clearly.

Killian kissed her with devastating concentration, like the rest of the world had narrowed into the space between their bodies.

Claire slid one hand upward into his hair before she could reconsider the decision.

Killian inhaled sharply against her mouth, entire body going tense beneath her fingertips. His composure cracked for one dangerous second after that, and suddenly she understood with alarming clarity how much effort he'd been using to stay controlled around her.

Her pulse stumbled hard.

Her fingers drifted lower from his throat to the front of his shirt, smoothing absentmindedly across dark fabric while his eyes followed every movement with unnerving focus.

The atmosphere between them thickened instantly.

Charged enough that Claire became acutely aware of her own breathing.

Killian lowered his head slowly after that, giving her enough time to move away if she wanted.

She didn't.

The second kiss felt deeper immediately.

His restraint remained—careful, frighteningly deliberate—but hunger had started bleeding through the cracks now.

Claire's back met cool marble near the kitchen island a moment later, and Killian stopped instantly the second he realized it.

Another man might have trapped her there deliberately.

Killian pulled back half an inch instead.

Giving her space.

The gesture shouldn't have affected her so strongly.

It did anyway.

"You're being very careful," she whispered.

Something dark flickered behind his eyes.

"You have no idea."

Before Claire could ask what that meant, Killian's gaze dropped briefly toward her throat, and for the first time all evening she saw his control slip visibly.