Page 58 of Declan

“Fuck, your cunt feels too good.” With his filthy words, I lose all sense of control and come hard on his cock. My body spasms uncontrollably, and my movements become erratic as I feel my pussy clenching around him.

He mutters darkly and thrusts harder, prolonging my orgasm and sending me to another plane of existence. His entire bodytenses, and his hot, white cum fills me. His cock pulsing inside me. “Fuck!!”

Head tilted back, his tattoos stretch across his chest with every deep, shaking breath he takes—an utterly captivating sight. It’s like having Lucifer himself between my legs, his sinful smirk for me, for my body, and I can’t help but smile.

His dark eyes finally meet mine, and he bends over me, making my ass cheeks sting with pain. He presses soft kisses on my forehead. I seize the chance, leaning up to kiss and lick his neck, savouring the taste of his skin. When I reach the nook of his neck, I bite down hard. He winces, his hand tangling in my hair as he pulls my head back.

“Already taking revenge on me?” he asks, his dark eyes piercing into mine, alight with something carnal.

“It’s only fair I mark you as you marked me,” I reply with a wicked grin, biting my bottom lip.

He stares for a moment, then tilts his head, baring his neck like prey surrendering to a vampire queen. “By all means,” he murmurs.

I don’t hesitate. I sink my teeth into his shoulder, biting along the ridge, marking him. He shudders slightly, a soft wince escaping as he leans closer, his lips brushing my ear.

“Viviana,” his hoarse voice stops me mid-motion, and I look up at him. There’s something in his eyes now—worry, shadowed by something he’s holding back. My gaze shifts, knowing how much I’m hiding from him. I wonder if I’ll ever have the courage to tell him the truth, knowing that this secret could cost us everything.

“I…” he starts but falters. I reach up and gently caress his cheek. He leans into my touch, his tension softening as if my hand alone can unravel him. I take a deep breath, letting the moment wash over me: the scent of him, the salt of his sweat, the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

“You what, Declan?” I ask softly. His gaze flickers, and instead of answering, he shakes his head, pulling me into a kiss. Sweet and tangled, it steals the breath from my lungs, and I melt into him completely.

This week passed like no other. Declan spends his days away while I dig deeper into my father’s business and even my sister’s.

I still don’t know if they realize that our father probably killed Declan’s fiancée. Not only that, but he also dared to make a deal with him to marry one of us after killing her. How fucked up is that? Who the hell does something like that?!

My phone buzzes, and Silvana’s name flashes on the screen. She wants to have lunch in town. I roll my eyes, not in the mood.

Although, it could be an excellent opportunity to see if she knows something.

I reply to her text, setting lunch for tomorrow at one of our favourite Italian restaurants in town. Taking a deep breath, I return to my notes.

A shadow falls behind me, making me jump. I quickly snap my notebook shut.

“You scared me!”

He smiles, wicked and knowing. This past week has been carnal. Every night, he returns home full of fury and blood, taking me like a beast. He fills me every inch, and I want more. I can’t get enough of his body, but we barely talk. There’s a knot in my throat all the time. I want to tell him—everything—but I can’t.

Not yet.

His suit is flawless, black, and perfectly tailored to accentuate every inch of his muscles. He smells of woodsy cologne and expensive whisky. For the first time in a week, there are no bloodstains on him.

His thumb brushes against my cheek, then drops to my chin, tilting it up so I have to meet his gaze. A smirk tugs at his lips, and his dark eyes gleam with amusement.

“Searching for something?” he asks, his voice so deep it makes my legs clamp tight. That dominant, sexy tone of his drives me up the goddamn walls.

“No blood. Must’ve been a slow day,” I joke, forcing a chuckle.

“It was boring. Just a few business meetings in town,” he replies casually. And it’s always like this between us: we fuck until oblivion, but when it comes to talking, we give each other the bare minimum. He says he had meetings, and I say I’ve been reading and writing.

Not lies, exactly—just not the whole truth. He doesn’t know I’ve been reading about his dead fiancée and my murderous father.

“Dinner’s at the table,” he says, extending his hand. His veins pulse under the tattoos that cover his hand and wind up his arm, muscles flexing subtly. Those arms wrap so perfectly around me, and that hand makes an equally perfect necklace around my neck.

“Viviana,” his voice cuts through my spiralling thoughts, sharp and commanding. I blush, my cheeks burning. I really need to stop being this horny around him all the time.

Jesus Christ.

Chapter 19

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