Page 41 of Declan

“Hearing that you feel the same want, the same need,” she continues, her voice growing more confident, more sure, “it’slike I can finally breathe again. Like I’m not insane for feeling this way.”

She steps directly in front of me now, so close I can smell her, warm and sweet with the faintest trace of something wild underneath. Her fingers touch my chest, and even through the layers of fabric, it’s like a brand searing into my skin.

“And now you’re saying,” she says, her tone sharper now, “because of your friendship with my brother, I’m supposed to go on pretending? Pretending we didn’t just share the most intense, incredible kiss of my entire damn life?”

I force a breath out, my chest tight, throat dry. “Yes,” I whisper, even though it feels like it’s killing me to say it.

She shakes her head slowly, that infuriating, sexy little smirk tugging at her lips. Then she slides her arms around my neck like she’s been doing it her whole life. Her body presses to mine, fitting perfectly like she belongs there.

“Fuck that,” she murmurs, looking up at me with fire in her eyes. “I keep my relationships a secret anyway.”

That’s the last straw.

I growl, low and raw in my throat, the sound primal. My hands fly to her waist, yanking her against me. My lips crush hers in a kiss that’s nothing short of savage.

This isn’t gentle. It’s years of restraint unraveling in a heartbeat.

Her mouth opens for me without hesitation, and my tongue dives in, claiming her like I’ve been starving for the taste. Her fingers twist into my hair as she moans into me, and I swear to God I’ve never heard anything hotter.

I press her back against the wall, our bodies flush, no space left between us. Her legs brush mine, her hips arch into me, and I’m lost. My hands roam her sides, her back, her hips, desperate to touch every inch I’ve only dreamed of.

There’s no going slow. No thinking. Just fire and friction and the kind of kiss that makes you forget your own name.

I know I should stop.

I know this changes everything.

But I can’t stop kissing her.

Not now.

Not when she feels like everything I’ve ever wanted.

This kiss it’s only the beginning.

Chapter 13

Lena

This is real.

This is actually happening.

All these years of fantasizing about him, about his hands on me, his mouth claiming mine, the low gravel of his voice whispering my name in the dark. They’re no longer just late-night dreams I have to force myself to forget in the morning.

And he’s kissing me like he’s seconds from falling apart.

The second his lips crashed into mine, the world blurred. My doubts, my guilt, my brother’s voice in the back of my mind all burned away in a flash of heat and need.

I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times. His taste, sharp and addictive. His touch, rough and possessive. The way hisscent would wrap around me. Whiskey, cedar, and that uniquely Declan smell that’s always made my head spin.

But nothing could’ve prepared me for the way it all feels in real life.

It’s a wildfire, igniting inside me, raging through every nerve ending. I feel it in my fingertips, in the tightening of my belly, in the ache low in my body that’s been his since the first time he looked at me like I was more than just his best friend’s little sister.

His hands are everywhere, urgent and desperate, pulling me closer like he needs me to breathe. And I go willingly, wrapping myself around him like I’ve waited my whole damn life to be here.

Because I have.

---