Page 92 of Declan

“Did you suck him?” His lips graze mine, his tongue flicking over my bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth.

“I didn’t,” I whisper, trembling. His presence overwhelms me—hard, masculine, and unrelenting.

“Did he lick your cunt?” His hand works at my jeans with precision, the other tugging my hair, forcing me to meet his intense gaze.

“Y-yes,” I stammer, shrinking under his stare.

He grunts, displeased. “Did he fuck you until you came?”

“Declan,” I press my palms to his chest, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. “I don’t want to talk about that nig—”

Before I can finish, he grabs my wrists with one hand, pinning them above my head against the cold wall. His other hand grips my jaw, angling my face upward, leaving me no escape from his burning eyes.

“So, he made you come. What else did he make you do?” His voice is low, rough, vibrating against my skin. “Did he make you feel like I do?”

I writhe in his grip, my breath hitching as his body presses into mine, firm and unyielding.

“Declan,” I whisper, but his hold tightens, silencing me.

“Tell me,” He orders, his lips brushing against mine, refusing to give me what I crave.

“He’s nothing like you, Declan,” I say, my voice breaking. “No man ever is, or ever will be.”

He stops, glaring at me. “What?”

I shake my head, confused by his question. “What do you mean?”

His demeanour shifts, and he takes a step back, releasing my arms. “That look—I know that look, Viviana. What the fuck happened with Alek?” His voice isn’t accusing; it’s filled with pain, his hands clenched into fists.

“Nothing.” I look down, unable to face this now.

“That motherfucker,” Declan snarls, punching the mirror on the wall. Shards of glass scatter everywhere.

“Declan, please don’t do this. I can’t handle it—not now, not again.” My breathing quickens, a tornado of emotions swirling inside me. If I let it out, I’ll break.

He turns to face me, and a shiver runs through me, heat pooling low in my stomach. His thumb traces my jawline, slow and deliberate, before sliding down my neck. My skin burns under his touch.

“I don’t know what to do,” he murmurs, whispering against my ear.

I pull him closer, my voice low and steady. “Make me come, Declan.” He’s the only man I want, the only one who can make me forget everything else.

His warm breath brushes my neck, sending goosebumps down my spine. “Fuck, are you sure?” His voice is sweet, laced with desire, as he kisses me and pins my wrists against the wall with one hand.

I tug against his grip, but he holds me firmly in place. His free hand glides down my body, tracing the curve of my waist before stopping at the waistband of my jeans.

“Declan,” I breathe out, my voice trembling with need and frustration.

He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating against my skin. “I’m here, firecracker. Let go.”

His fingers slip just beneath the fabric, teasing, igniting sparks of anticipation through my entire body—then he stops.

“You want me to fuck you?” he mocks, his tone sharp. His thumb brushes the edge of my underwear, making me arch into him involuntarily.

“Please,” I whisper before I can stop myself.

He pulls back just enough for me to feel the absence of his touch. His smirk deepens as he watches me squirm. I groan in frustration, uncaring if I look desperate. I grind against his leg, but he steps away, his smirk unrelenting.

“Not yet,” he says, his voice firm and unyielding. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”

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