Page 42 of Declan

I tilt my head, deepening the kiss, chasing his mouth like I can’t get enough. Because I can’t. His lips are soft but commanding, and when our tongues touch again, I swear something inside me breaks wide open.

It’s raw. Intense. Almost too much.

Almost.

He pushes me harder against the wall, and I gasp, the sound muffled by his mouth. My fingers dig into the back of his shirt, needing an anchor as the world spins.

I want to tell him I’m his. I want to say it out loud, even if it wrecks everything.

Because it’s never been anyone else for me.

Only him.

And now that I finally have a taste, I know I’ll never be able to walk away.

It was nearly impossible before, when all I had were fantasies and stolen glances, but now? Now there’s no doubt. It’s impossible.

Declan’s lips pull from mine, only to trail fire down my jaw and neck. Kissing. Sucking. Biting. Each sensation is sharper than the last, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me.

My back arches off the wall, my legs trembling beneath me. I grab his shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping me in this reality, because the way he’s touching me, the way his mouth worships my skin, I feel like I might fly apart.

I’ve never been this turned on in my life.

Every inch of me is alive, flushed with need. My skin is hot and sensitive. My nipples are stiff, scraping against the inside of my bra with every movement, and my pussy isn’t just wet, it’s throbbing. An ache that pulses deeper with every brush of his hands, every graze of his mouth.

Then his knee presses between my thighs, right where I need it most, and I cry out.

“Oh fuck!”

My head hits the wall as it drops back, overwhelmed by the rush of pleasure crashing through me.

He grinds his thigh against my center, slow but deliberate, and I gasp again, louder this time.

“You need relief, don’t you?”

His voice is low and rough in my ear, soaked in desire and edged with control.

I can’t find words. I can barely breathe. All I can do is moan softly, digging my nails into his shoulders like I’m trying to hold on to something real.

His mouth moves up to my ear, and when he bites the lobe, I whimper. He soothes the sting with a soft lick, and my body shudders in his arms.

“Tell me, Lena.” His voice is pure gravel. “Tell me you’re in as much pain as I am. That you don’t just want relief, youneedit. Because fuck, I sure as hell do.”

My eyes flutter open, barely focusing, and though he’s not looking at me, still consumed with my neck, my skin, every exposed part of me, I find my voice, shaky but sure.

“Yes, Declan,” I whisper, breathless and wrecked. “I need relief. Please…”

That’s all it takes.

He lets out an animalistic growl and grabs the hem of my shirt, yanking it over my head and tossing it behind him without a second thought.

There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. His hands are already at my waistband, and in one fluid move, he’s pushing my pants down, fingers grazing over my hips, my thighs, as I kick them away.

I’m standing in front of him in nothing but a lace bra and panties.

And I’ve never felt so exposed or so alive.

His eyes finally lift, sweeping over me like I’m something he’s been starving for. My breath catches, my heart pounding.

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