Page 38 of Declan

He crosses the room in seconds, his powerful frame looming over me as I sit frozen on the bed. He grips my throat, pushing my back into the mattress, his thumb pressing against my pulse. I feel some pressure, not enough to cut off my air but enough to make my insides twist and turn.

“There’s no fucking door that will keep me away from my wife,” he bites out, his voice rough with a hint of amusement.

“How much money have you spent on doors?” My voice is filled with amusement as I attempt to mask the arousal already forming in my pussy. Still, a shiver betrays me as his presence presses over me.

He only smiles, but it’s not a friendly one; it’s something far darker, something that promises I’m at his mercy.

He releases my throat, and his hand trails slowly down my sides, his fingertips skimming my skin with a possessive deliberation that makes my breath hitch. His fingers drift along the curve of my waist, grazing the side of my breast, then pressing firmly into my hip, claiming it as he leans close, his mouth hovering by my neck.

He inhales deeply, and a low, rough whisper slips out. “You smell so fucking good, firecracker.”

My pulse races as his hand glides lower, tracing circles on my thigh, his touch achingly slow. I bite my lip, trying to stifle any reaction, trying not to show just how much I want this, but my body betrays me.

“You… you need to stop,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, but he ignores me entirely. His lips brush my neck as he kisses it, then bites down gently, sending a thrill down my spine.

His fingers find the edge of my panties, and with deliberate slowness, he slides the fabric aside, his eyes meeting mine as a wicked smirk tugs at his lips. His finger brushes against my lower lips, sliding easily to my clit as he feels my wetness, and his gaze darkens.

“So, I need to stop, hmm?” His tone is thick with satisfaction as he commands softly, “Don’t move.”

A sharp wave of anticipation coils in my stomach as he lowers himself, his mouth leaving a heated trail along my skin, his breaths hot against me. My control slips: I need him, but there’s no way I’ll beg.

Settling between my legs, he looks up at me, his eyes gleaming with excitement as his hands press my thighs apart. His warm breath hovers, teasing, and just before I can catch my breath, he dips his head, his tongue grazing over my sensitive flesh, sending a jolt through me.

“Fuck, Vi,” he breathes against me, his voice reverent, almost hungry, as he licks me from my clit to the entrance, each touch of his tongue driving me further to the edge, leaving me aching, desperate, and utterly consumed by him.

My hands dart to his messy, dark hair. He tilts his face up, still licking me, a smirk appearing in his eyes. I press his head down; the hell with his eyes—I want his tongue to fuck me!

He devours me, his tongue sliding inside me, and my back arches instinctively. He digs his fingers into my thighs, keeping me in place.

“You taste so fucking good, Viviana.”

I’m already fighting for my life here, and this fucker moves his tongue to my clit as he slides one of his thick fingers inside me.

I feel my walls stretching; he pumps his finger in and out. I can feel my warm arousal dripping into him. He curls his finger, hitting something inside me I didn’t even know existed, curling my toes. I cry out.

He moves his finger faster.

“Do you want more?” His voice is hoarse, but before I can answer, he adds another finger, pumping them in and out while his tongue sucks and licks my clit. I can’t hold it. My entire body feels out of control, trembling, every muscle drawn tight as the pressure mounts—an unbearable sweetness teetering on the edge of release.

“Fuck, Declan.” My body tenses, caught in a wave that crests higher, tighter, each pulse bringing me closer to a breaking point I can’t resist. My breath catches, then shatters in a soft hum, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs. Every nerve feels alight, as if the skin itself is too sensitive, too raw to contain it. I cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders as a white-hot sensation coils low in my belly, tightening until it explodes through me, leaving me trembling and breathless, senses dulled and heightened all at once.

He is the fucking devil.

Chapter 12

Declan

Kneeling, I wipe my lip, savouring the sight of her—flushed, her chest rising and falling as she gasps for breath, hair tousled, thighs slick with arousal. The way she’s unravelling is exquisite. I watch as she slowly drifts down, her eyes finding mine, lips parted, legs trembling as she tries to pull them together. Before she can utter a word, I stand, letting a slow, dark smile play on my lips.

“Don’t forget, firecracker. I’ll only take you when you beg for it.”

Her gaze flicks to the obvious bulge in my pants. I let her linger there for a moment, wanting her to know just how much I fucking want her. I could’ve left her on the edge, but now she knows the pleasure I can drag out of her. Next time, when I stop short, she’ll be craving this, aching for it.

I slide my finger over my lip, tasting her hot, white liquid on my skin, her scent clinging to me, reminding me of everything I’ve just done to her. Resisting the urge to unzip and fuck her right here, I take a deep breath. Not yet. She isn’t ready for that.

“I will never beg,” she hisses, yanking her dress down as she sits on the bed, glaring at me with sharp eyes. “This doesn’t mean anything, Callaghan.”

There she is—my beautiful firecracker, still spitting flames even after I’ve left her legs shaking.

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