Page 22 of Declan

Shit. I have a dark sense of humour, but these two take it to another level. Can’t say I feel sorry for him, though; all men like him should end up at the bottom of a lake.

“Thank you,” I whisper so softly I don’t even think he hears me.

He looks down at me, blinking with a faint smirk. I can feel my face flush, and I’m sure he notices, but thankfully, he doesn’t say a word.

He walks me to my room and opens the door. “Lock it,” he says, his tone carrying a warning. “Just in case.” His jaw tightens as he looks at me, different from usual. There’s something in his eyes. His pupils dilate for a moment before he cracks his neck and steps back.

“If I lock it, you won’t be able to come in unless I let you,” I say, my voice more defiant than I intended.

He steps closer, closing the distance between us. Bending down, he gets so close I can smell his woodsy cologne.

“Don’t worry firecracker; as you saw, no door can keep me from you.” He straightens up. “Goodnight.”

He turns and disappears into the dim light of the hallway without looking back.

I lock the door, a loud breath escaping my lungs. That was intense—and I don’t mean what happened with the guard. The way Declan went for him… No man has ever done that for me, protected me like that. Not even my father.

God, I’m so needy for attention.

I shake my head.

Sleep. That’s what I need.

Tomorrow, all these thoughts will be gone.

Chapter 7

Declan

Closing the door to my room, I rip off my bloody shirt. That damn guard touching what’s mine—I knew something was wrong the moment I heard the loud crash on the door and didn’t see him.

My hand clenched into a fist, knuckles turning white as I try to shake the image of Viviana under him, struggling as I burst in. Fuck!

Why is this messing with me so much? Worse, why does my cock twitch when she blushes? And why do I keep wanting to go to her room? That firecracker is screwing with my head way too much.

I head to the shower, letting the water wash away the day’s chaos. My eyes close, and there she is, in that wedding dress. That goddamn dress. She looked like a sin—one I wouldn’t mind indulging in. She drives me insane. Stubborn as hell, loudmouthed, and dangerous.

Women are never like this around me—they’re always submissive to the point of boredom. Maybe that’s why my body reacts like this. It’s just something new. That’s all.

I grab my shaft, it’s already hard. “Fuck,” I mutter as the water pours over me.

My hand moves, gripping hard. My forehead presses against the cold tile as thoughts of Viviana flood my mind—her lips, the kind I’d love to see wrapped around my cock, making her gag as I grip her hair. Her breasts in that dress, her hips swaying as she walked into the ballroom in that tight gown.

I rub my crown with my thumb, imagining her tongue licking up the pre-cum. Fuck.

I hiss, pumping harder and faster, my fist tight. The thought of being inside her, tasting her arousal, drives me over the edge. My balls tighten, heat rushing down my spine as my muscles turn to stone.

My head snaps back, eyes rolling as I come undone. All I see is her—bent over my desk, crying out my name as I take her hard. The image is enough to push me past the edge. I hold onto the tiles, catching my breath, trying to regain control.

This is the first time I’ve jerked off to her. Usually, I’d call Roisin when the urge hit. She’s always been my go-to. I shake my head. Roisin understands the rules—no attachment, no feelings, just mutual consent and respect.

I need to get a grip on this situation. Viviana isn’t really my wife. She’s part of a business arrangement, and that’s all she’ll ever be.

Even after, I’m still restless, tossing and turning in bed. It’s nearly morning. I might as well get up and head to the gym.

After a couple of hours of training, I finally feel myself coming back to the control I’m used to—the control no firecracker is going to take from me, no matter how much my cock disagrees.

I head to the kitchen, and as soon as I step in, I see her.

---