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Whispers Of The Cliff

Echoes of Love: Part 2

This content is intended for mature audiences for the following reasons.

• Sexual Content and/or Nudity

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That expression… damn, it looks sexy on you, Kieran thought, biting back a grin as he soaked in every second of Akalon’s flustered state. He was enjoying this far too much.

“Didn’t you ask me to stop?” he replied, that familiar smirk still curving his lips—though his breath had grown noticeably unsteady.

Akalon was at a loss for words. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

What are you doing to me, Kieran? Why do I always lose control around you? He could feel his pride slipping, unraveling beneath the weight of need.

I’m supposed to be the one in control. I’m the boss. The one people fear. But in this moment, he wasn’t a mafia lord—he was just a man undone by the one person who saw past it all.

I hate you for this, he thought bitterly. But I want you closer. I need you to touch me again. His heart pounded. His breath caught.

And before he could stop himself, his hands were already moving. Without thinking, he grabbed Kieran’s waist, pulling him close and pressing his lips to Kieran’s neck.

Kieran stumbled slightly from the force, eyes widening for just a second—but his hands quickly found Akalon’s waist, steadying them both.

“Whoa—what’s this, boss?” he murmured against Akalon’s skin, voice low and teasing. “Planning to devour me now?”

He was grinning, but his heart was racing. God, he's serious this time.

“You’re mine, Kie,” Akalon growled, his voice thick with possessiveness. “And you can’t escape anymore.”

Kieran was about to shoot back something cocky—until he felt it.

A sharp, sudden sting.

His breath hitched.

“What the—” he gasped, voice catching as something pierced his skin—deeper, sharper than teeth should. Akalon froze. His body went rigid, confusion flickering in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt him, not like that.

But it was too late. Warm blood welled up against Kieran’s neck. He hissed softly, pain flashing through him, followed by a stunned silence.

That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t just a bite.

Akalon pulled back slowly, completely unaware of what he'd just done—his fangs retreating as if they’d never been there. He stared down at the faint smear of blood on his lips, expression twisting from hunger to horror.

“What… what did I just do?” he whispered.

“I’m not sure what just happened,” Kieran said softly, “but… I feel content. So relax.”

He pulled Akalon into a soothing hug, firm and warm as if he were trying to anchor them both.

Serious. I do feel content, Kieran thought.

Like I’ve finally been filled… finally whole. What is this feeling, really?

The mark Akalon left on his neck had darkened. It wasn’t like a hickey—no, it pulsed faintly with heat, with something… alive. It was more than physical. It was something deeper. Something binding.

Akalon, still stunned and overwhelmed, melted further into Kieran’s chest.

Ah… his hug feels so warm, he thought, the fear beginning to fade.

Whatever had just happened, Kieran didn’t seem angry. And for once, Akalon let himself be held.

But what happened next… was unbelievable.

Without warning, Kieran leaned toward Akalon’s neck, driven by something he didn’t understand. His instincts buzzed with an intensity he couldn’t name. He inhaled sharply near Akalon’s skin—his body reacting as if searching for something only his soul recognized.

And then, just like Akalon, his teeth began to shift.

Not bone. Not calcium.

They extended—transparent, gleaming with a strange inner light.

Sharper than any natural fang, and yet weightless. Ethereal.

Before either of them could question it, Kieran closed the distance—his mouth brushing Akalon’s neck.

And then—pierce.

Akalon flinched as the same sharp pain bloomed against his skin. The same mark appeared, glowing faintly before settling into his skin like it had always belonged there.

Kieran had marked him back.

There’s blood on my tongue, Kieran thought as his eyes snapped open. A jolt of panic surged through him. His heart started to race.

He looked at Akalon, startled.

"Trying to get revenge?" Akalon mumbled, his voice husky as he looked up—eyes locking with Kieran’s stormy gaze. His chest rose and fell steadily, but his heart was pounding hard.

It stings… No, seriously—it hurts. Then why the hell am I happy? Akalon wondered, confused by his own contentment.

There’s blood on my tongue, Kieran repeated in his head, recoiling at the taste.

“No—never,” he blurted out, panicking at the sight of the blood.

He started to step backward, instinctively trying to put distance between them.

“Hey!” Akalon whined, grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t step back now. You can’t escape from me anymore.”

Something in Akalon’s calm, steady voice pulled Kieran back from the edge of his fear.

He’s not angry. He’s not hurt.

He’s okay... Kieran realized his heart was slowing. A soft smile curved his lips.

“I don’t want to escape from this little devil either,” he murmured, and with that, he leaned in and claimed Akalon’s lips once again.

This time, slower.

Gentler.

He let them both breathe between kisses, shifting their positions carefully as the world had changed, but this… this was the one part that still made sense.

Soon, without another thought clouding their minds, they lost control completely. The tension between them snapped like a taut string, and everything turned wild. Their hands roamed, mouths collided, and the room seemed to blur around them—nothing else mattered but each other.

Kieran removed Akalon's shirt completely, gaining access to his chest. He lifted him and placed him securely on the table. One of Akalon's nipples was taken into his mouth, while his other nipple was gently teased with his hand.

Ah! This is really happening. I’m really doing this… and it’s not a dream, Kieran thought, his breath hitching as his lips moved hungrily against Akalon’s pink bud.

It’s real. He’s real. Right here—beneath me.

Another thought flared through his mind, wild and possessive.

I want to mark every inch of him until there’s no space left untouched.

His hands rested on Akalon’s waist, holding him firmly in his embrace, grounding them both. While he continued to assault Akalon’s nipples with a heat that only grew fiercer the longer they stayed connected, every movement was driven by a storm of emotion he no longer cared to hide.

The pleasure overwhelmed Akalon, causing his toes to curl.

“Kie,” a sinful moan escaped his lips as his head fell back in ecstasy.

Damn… did I really make that sound?

The thought snapped through his mind, but it was already too late—his body trembled with a sensation he’d never felt before.

I didn’t even know I could make sounds like that… what is he doing to me?

Ah! It’s not enough, Kieran thought, frustration bubbling in his chest. I want more.

The craving echoed through him as he continued to nudge Akalon’s nipple, his movements growing rougher, more desperate.

Damn this shirt—why is there anything between us?

The thought snapped through his mind like a whip.

In one swift motion, he pulled the fabric away, stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside. His mouth returned immediately—this time with no barrier—his lips and tongue teasing Akalon’s nipple, desperate to taste every reaction he could draw out.

While his other hand slid down to stroke Akalon’s hard length, a loud moan tore from Akalon’s throat.

God, his touch is messing with my head… and I don’t want him to stop, he thought, shivering under the relentless sensation.

But Kieran didn’t slow down. If anything, he moved faster—like he was chasing something. Desperate. Hungry.

His hand stroked Akalon’s clothed length through the fabric, each movement purposeful, demanding.

“Fuck,” Akalon cursed, his voice raw with pleasure.

The word made Kieran glance up, and the sinful expression on Akalon’s face nearly undid him. Every time he looks at me like that, I lose control, Kieran, though.

"You should lower your voice, boss," Kieran teased with a smirk. "Others might hear you." He continued assaulting Akalon's nipple, his movements unrelenting.

Kieran swiftly removed Akalon’s pants and boxers in one smooth motion, his actions firm and unrelenting. With practiced ease, he lifted Akalon onto the desk in the center of his office.

Everything happened so fast that Akalon’s mind went blank, lost in a haze of heat and sensation. All he could do was moan, breathless and overwhelmed.

A chill ran down his legs, snapping his attention back for a moment. He looked down, startled to find his clothes completely gone. But before he could say a word, Kieran’s soft lips wrapped around his exposed length—and every coherent thought dissolved into white noise.

He’s driving me insane… and I think I want him to break me completely, Akalon thought, throwing his head back once more.

His fingers gripped the edge of the desk—desperate for something to anchor him—as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him, flooding his senses.

“Mmm... Kie, it’s too much... Nghh, I can’t take it anymore, I’m cumming,” Akalon gasped.

But just as he reached the edge, Kieran pulled away and pressed a soft kiss to his trembling thigh.

Akalon’s gasp of frustration echoed in the room, but Kieran didn’t stop. Didn’t even explain.

Hey! You can’t just leave me like this…! Akalon’s thoughts reeled, his body trembling in disbelief.

Kieran leaned up to press a teasing kiss to his lips, then began walking away. Akalon stared, stunned.

“Hey!” he barked, irritation creeping into his voice.

He’s toying with me again—and I’m letting him. Damn it, Akalon thought, watching the man who was putting distance between them with every step.

He’s so damn needy… and I love it, Kieran mused. That face, that voice—I could lose myself in him forever.

He wiped his lips slowly, his gaze never leaving Akalon’s dazed, flushed face. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, still smirking as he sank onto the couch like he had all the time in the world.

“You can’t stop in the middle,” Akalon growled, jolting upright as he sat on the desk, legs wide open—his body still trembling, aching. My body’s screaming, my mind’s a mess… and he walks away?

The sight of him—vulnerable and furious, chest heaving and legs parted—was almost too much. Kieran’s smirk deepened, his eyes burning.

“Then why don’t you crawl over to me,” he said lazily, “and take off my clothes yourself?”

Damn him. He knows exactly what he’s doing, Akalon thought, grinding his teeth as he crawled toward Kieran—slow, deliberate, every move dripping with frustration and need.

The sight in front of Kieran nearly made him lose it.

Akalon, flushed and breathless, dragging himself closer with lust-darkened eyes and parted lips… It was overwhelming. Kieran could feel himself twitching painfully against the fabric of his pants, his arousal pulsing with urgency. But he didn’t move. He waited—like a predator watching prey offer itself.

He’s so beautiful when he falls apart like this… and it’s all for me, Kieran thought, smirking as he watched the mess he was about to make even messier.

Akalon’s fingers trembled slightly as he unbuttoned and slid down Kieran’s pants. The moment the fabric fell away, his eyes widened—and his breath caught in his throat.

Damn… this monster’s going inside me? Every day?

Is he serious? Is this a joke?

His gaze remained locked on Kieran’s exposed length, disbelief, and arousal crashing together in his mind like a storm. He swallowed hard, torn between panic and anticipation.

Meanwhile, Kieran’s lips curled into a lazy, wicked smirk as he watched Akalon’s stunned expression.

Look at that little devil getting flustered just from seeing it, Kieran thought, amused. I haven’t even touched him yet, and he’s already falling apart.

Akalon slowly wrapped his hand around Kieran’s length, stroking it a few times before leaning in to take him into his mouth. His lips moved with practiced ease, slow and deliberate, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from Kieran.

A soft moan escaped Kieran’s lips, unguarded and low. The sound made Akalon twitch in response, his own arousal pulsing with need.

“Mmm… your length doesn’t even fit in my mouth, Kie,” Akalon murmured around him, his voice muffled and breathy, but teasing.

If it doesn’t fit in my mouth, I should probably abandon the idea of fitting it inside me, he thought, nearly choking on his own dread.

Rip my soul… I’m doomed, he pitied himself with a mental sigh.

Yet despite the dramatic thoughts, his body moved eagerly—his lips tightening, his rhythm steady—as if he was enjoying the act far more than he cared to admit. The warmth, the taste, the way Kieran’s breath hitched above him—it all stirred something deeper.

Kieran’s body ached with want, his arousal dripping, his mind fogging with pleasure. Every stroke of Akalon’s mouth sent sparks down his spine, and still, he wanted more.

Kieran’s fingers curled tightly against the couch cushion, fighting not to lose control too soon.

God, look at him…

He’s too good at this. He’s enjoying it. Why the hell is he enjoying it this much?

A ragged groan escaped his throat, deep and low.

Is he trying to kill me? That mouth… this little devil…

I keep saying he looks beautiful when he falls apart, but right now, I’m the one unraveling.

Kieran thought, half-amused, half-terrified at just how much power Akalon unknowingly held over him.

His gaze flickered down—Akalon, lips stretched wide, cheeks hollowed, eyes fluttering shut with every slow drag of his mouth.

How the hell did I get so lucky… and so cursed?

The thought came suddenly, sharp and fleeting—his heart clenching with a flash of fear.

Kieran, who always held his emotions in check, who built his life around control and restraint, was now kissing, touching, reacting… not with strategy, but with pure instinct.

And that was terrifying.

Because love—true love—was never part of the plan.

Not like this. Not so real. Not so fast. Not so much.

Even Akalon was feeling the same, though unspoken—his heart tight with quiet anxiety.

Loving someone was one thing. But feeling that love—physically, emotionally, completely—at a time like this, in a way neither of them expected, was raw. Consuming.

It stripped them down to their most vulnerable selves.

And yet, despite the storm, despite the fear, all Kieran could think was—

I want to ruin him completely…

Mark every inch of him…

But right now, he’s the one owning me.

His hips twitched slightly, betraying the hunger that pulsed through every nerve.

Just a bit more. Just hold on. Don’t let go yet, Kieran… Not yet.

He wasn’t just fighting desire—he was fighting a different kind of battle now.

One he never expected to lose.

But who was he to decide the battle of his heart?

Kieran lost control.

The carefully built walls around his emotions, his discipline, his desire, crumbled in an instant. He couldn’t keep it in anymore. Not the hunger. Not the need. Not the love.

Whispers Of The Cliff

Whispers Of The Cliff

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In the country of Ombrelis, a forbidden forest cloaks the ruins of a forgotten kingdom—a graveyard of panthers betrayed by their own. The world believes their royal bloodline was erased, but one survivor still stands on the edge.
Zarion Noirclaw, a famed idol with a voice that once healed hearts, now stands on a lonely cliff, ready to throw everything away. Until Alden Vane, a runaway haunted by his own scars, pulls him back from the brink.
But before Zarion can even learn the man’s name, he vanishes, fleeing from the ghosts of his past.
Fate, however, is relentless. When their paths cross again, Alden discovers that Zarion, the idol he once worshipped, is not only human but the last surviving panther prince, carrying the weight of his slaughtered kingdom.
Bound by secrets and scarred by betrayal, they unravel the sins of the past, only to find that they had the same enemies, who once destroyed Zarion’s kingdom and Alden's life, are still hunting them.
In a world where trust is a luxury and love a deadly risk, will they fight for freedom, or become prey to the claws of fate?

This story contains depictions of trauma, but may not be suitable for all readers.. Reader discretion is advised.

84 episodes