Page 31 of Vengeful Vows

Then I slide under the covers, spreading his thighs and licking across his testicles before taking him into my mouth.

I do gag a little when I take him further in, but that only seems to make him pulse more on my tongue.

He lets out a low groan, almost a growl, putting his hands in my hair.

I think he’s going to push, but instead he just tugs, guiding me in the rhythm that he wants.

I suck in, hollowing my cheeks, and Declan lets out a string of curses that seem to be in Gaelic.

“Jesus, fuck, Bree,” he moans. “If you keep that up, I’m going to come.”

I scratch my fingernails down his thighs to encourage him, loving how heavy he feels in my mouth, and then he explodes, sending come down my throat.

I keep pumping him with my hand and swallow every drop before pulling back up and grinning at him.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I smirk, and he grabs me around the waist, pulling me down on top of him and kissing me passionately.

He slides back down my body, making me come a fourth and fifth time with his hands and his mouth before sliding back into me.

Daylight is fading already before he’s done with me, and I’m sore and exhausted enough to cuddle up to him, my head on his chest.

I slip into sleep before I even know what’s happening.

I wake up in the middle of the night, after a dream about my mother, a few days before she left, and there are tears on my cheeks.

I walk downstairs to get a glass of water, and Lara is up, sitting with a cup of hot tea.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks, and I nod, pouring myself a glass of filtered water and sitting across from her.

“What about you?”

“Lifelong insomniac.” She gives me a wry smile.

I smile back, and with her, it’s not forced.

If I’m honest with myself, I haven’t been forcing smiles with any of the Burkes, not even Declan. Am I developing Stockholm syndrome or something?

I sit there across from Lara, trying to figure out what it is I’m feeling, and finally, she cocks her head, looking at me.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I don’t know if you want to hear them,” I mumble.

“I promise you that I do.”

I sigh. “I’m just thinking that it’s not so bad here.”

She smiles. “I thought you might feel that way.” She pauses. “And you’re feeling worried because you don’t hate it here?”

“Actually, yes.” I sip my water. “I spent so much time at the beginning thinking of ways out...” I trail off, not wanting to give away that I’m still thinking about it. Except now, it’s different being here somehow.

“But now you don’t want to go?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that... being here is just not as bad as I’d thought.”

“Because we don’t feed you bread and water?” she teases. “Or keep you in a room with just a bucket?”

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