Page 95 of Declan

My entire body slumps against the wall. Connor stares at me, and I barely catch my breath. “Kian has her,” I say.

I won’t do something like this again putting her at risk is fucking stupid. I swear I’ll burn the Irish Consortium and the Russians to the ground if anything happens to her.

The doctor enters, and I signal him to give his speech in the living room so Flynn’s men can hear. In case one of them is working with Alek, Flynn will pretend to be in a coma until Alek makes his move, which we hope is soon. I’m done with this shit.

I head upstairs, and halfway up, I see Viviana on the landing, tears streaking down her face, a soft smile playing on her lips. She looks like she’s seen a ghost. I clench my hands at my sides, tension seizing my body as I know exactly why she looks like that.

“Did he touch you?” I grunt when I reach her. She shakes her head, but I don’t believe her. I resist the urge to touch her, afraidof triggering something, but she grabs my hand and pulls me closer, her scent hitting me like a stone.

“I’m fine; nothing happened, Declan,” she murmurs into my shirt. I hold her, feeling her relax, melting into my embrace. I kiss her head and inhale deeply.

“You scared the shit out of me,” I whisper. “I would burn the fucking world to find you, Viviana.”

She looks up at me, her frown deepening. “Promise me you’ll never do what you did after,” she pauses, and I know what’s coming. “After… just promise me.”

I take her chin with my fingers, forcing her to meet my gaze. My muscles tighten as I tower over her, my lips nearly brushing hers. Our breaths dance together.

“You didn’t marry the hero; you married the fucking villain. I would torture and kill every living soul on this earth for you,” my voice drops an octave, feral, filled with rage at the thought of losing her.

She inhales, and before she can react, I kiss her. I pull her closer, our heartbeats syncing. Her cheeks flush as my tongue slips past her soft lips, coaxing a quiet hum from her that shoots straight through me. My body screams to take her right here on these fucking stairs.

Still holding her, I grip her shoulders and stare into her eyes. “What happened?” My voice is low and rough, fighting for control, not wanting to throw her over my shoulder and carry her to my room.

She tries to push me away, but I stand firm, not budging. She exhales deeply. “A guy grabbed my arm,” she begins, voice steady but soft. “He dragged me to the corner of the bar, handed me a phone. It was Alek.” She swallows hard.

“And?” I urge, my eyes locked on hers.

“He asked if I planned to kill him,” she says, shaking her head. “I knew he wouldn’t believe me. He knows I wouldn’t kill aman in cold blood, so I told him I’d done enough for him to see how deep I could go in the Irish Consortium, but if he wanted any of you dead, I’d give him the info—but he’d have to kill you himself.” She looks down, avoiding my gaze. Her hands twist together. “That’s when he said we need to meet.”

Finally, Fucking hell.

Relief and rage burn through me, at war in my chest. I nod slowly, trying to mask the storm inside. “Don’t worry,” I murmur, leaning close to her ear. “When he sets the time and place, this will all be over. I promise.”

I scoop her into my arms, her fingers tangling in my hair as she presses a kiss to my temple.

Yeah, I need to fuck her. Now. The tension in my chest, the fire in my veins, I need her to burn it out of me. I look down at her beautiful face, her eyes glazed with lust. Her hand travels around my chest, and I feel goosebumps rise, my cock growing harder. I slam the door open, making the windows shake.

I put her down, and she smiles. Turning, she walks slowly to the desk, her body swaying. She’s a fucking sight. Her hands move to the zipper at her side, and as she pulls it down, the dress falls to the floor, revealing her curves, a tiny string the only thing covering her beautiful round ass.

I don’t move, rolling my sleeves up. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms, enjoying the show. She unhooks her bra, one strap at a time, and I clench my hands to keep myself from stalking to her and pull one of those beautiful hard peaks into my mouth. I shift slightly to accommodate the painful bulge in my zipper.

Viviana’s body was made for me, every inch of her setting me on fire, making me crave her more than I should. Every time I remember how she clenches around me; I want to devour her completely.

Pre-cum drips onto my slacks as she turns her back to me, leaning down, bending to the floor while sliding off that little piece of fabric she calls panties. I see every inch of her glistening with arousal. Fuck me.

Leaning on the desk, she spreads her legs and turns her head just enough to meet my gaze through her lashes. “What are you waiting for?” Her voice is laced with honey. I can’t stop the smirk curling my lips.

I stalk toward her, unbuckling my belt and biting my lip as the urge to strike her with it rises in my chest. She’s not ready for that—yet I remind myself. But as if she can read my thoughts, she tilts her head, eyes locked on the belt and licks her lips. My head tilts in response, gauging her expression.

“Tell me what you want, Viviana,” I demand, my voice dominant as my hand caresses the belt.

Her devilish smile meets my stare, eyes still glued to the belt. “I want to be punished,” she purrs.

My eyebrow arches. “Punished? For what?” I stop in my tracks.

“For what I did today,” she says, her voice cracking just enough for me to catch it. Flynn, that’s why she thinks she needs to be punished—she’s still struggling, even though this was all planned.

I shake my head. “Firecracker,” I grunt, unbuttoning my shirt. My body tenses with each step toward her. “I will not punish you for that.” That’s not how these punishments work.

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