Page 3 of Clubs

And there it was.

The explosion of bliss crashed through me, bringing chills to my skin, making my legs quiver. If Declan wasn’t holding me upright, I would’ve fallen over. Everything blackened around the edges, blurring the rest of the room into nothingness. All I saw was Declan’s crooked smile in the mirror as he maintained his pace, forcing me to absorb and get lost in every second of wonder my body could create.

Although, I wasn’t sure if it was about my pleasure, or if it had far more to do with him getting what he wanted. After all, I was giving him the screams he’d insisted upon.

When the contractions finally slowed, he kissed my cheek. “Such a good girl when you wanna be.”

I almost laughed, but he wasn’t done, and the sensual grasp on my breast paired with his next intense pump into me was proof of it. No matter how hard he was going, how quick his pace had become, it somehow seemed softer than it’d been a moment ago.

That hand around my throat found my waist instead, holding me tightly around my curves. He didn’t stop me when I reached around to touch his face, still watching him in the mirror as he watched me.

The expression he wore was always passion and desire until I finished. And then there was this. The moment when he transformed into the most tender, intimate lover.

I loved both, but this part… it was like aftercare before it was even over.

“Fuck,” he groaned in my ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

I gave him a moan in response.

Like his good girl always did the trick of bringing me over the edge, the right pitch to my moan and a hand in his loose brown curls always did the trick for him too.

His growl of pleasure vibrated into my ear as his warmth filled my core. When his breathing slowed, swaying hips doing the same, he spun me around, hooked his arms around my waist, and hugged me. A little too tight, but I wasn’t complaining.

“God damn,” he said through panting breaths. “What were we talking about?”

I laughed, resting my head on his chest. “I have no idea.”

A deep sigh as he pulled his pants up his legs. “Shoulda written it down somewhere.”

Smiling, I pulled away to button my shirt. “I’m sure it wasn’t that import—”

“Hey, hey.” He caught my hands, pulling them to my sides. “Not yet.”

“What do you mean ‘not yet?’”

“Give me five minutes. Then round two.”

“How about round two tonight in your bed?” I finished buttoning my shirt and looped my arms around his neck. “At least then, you won’t bang my head on the mirror.”

“I didn’t bang your head on the mirror.” His hands found my hips, walking me backward to the sink. “I just kinda nudged it.”

“Uh, no, you definitely banged it.”

“I felt it. It wasn’t that bad.”

True, and true. It wasn’t that bad, and he had felt it.

About two years ago, we’d met, we’d hooked up, and then our souls merged. Or they’d always been merged, and fucking activated them?

We weren’t sure. All we knew was that we had fucked, and the next day, I felt him get shot. Then we could hear each other’s thoughts, see out of each other’s eyes, and hear out of each other’s ears.

Declan referred to us as par animarum—Latin for paired souls. Apparently, they were an urban legend in the supernatural world, and we fit the criteria to call ourselves such.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed me again, hoisting me up onto the sink.

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“Would it help if my tongue was between your thighs?” He smirked. “Because if that’s what you need…”

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