Page 231 of That Time I Accidentally Became A Serial Killer

God help me.

I lift her gently, her thighs around my waist, and set her on the edge of the desk.

Her breath catches when I step between her legs.

She opens for me, palms braced behind her, gaze locked on mine—so open it ruins me.

I lose my shirt.

She smirks, raises her arms, and I pull off her crop top. Her bra follows, and my mouth finds her nipples—licking, sucking, pinching.

I reach into my pocket.

Condom in hand, I tear it open as I unzip my pants.

She arches a brow, eyes flicking down, then back up with a smirk. “You always carry those in your pocket?”

I lean in, gripping my cock. “When I’m with you?” My voice drops. “Always.”

Her eyes drop to my cock and widen.

“Oh. Em. Gee,” she breathes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I don’t even try to hide my grin.

“Don’t be scared of it,” I murmur, stroking myself, teasing her entrance.

She shoots me a look—equal parts awe and panic. “Scared? No. Skeptical? Yes. That weapon of mass destruction won’t fit anywhere respectable. How do you even walk?”

I chuckle, kiss her jaw. “Strategic pants.”

She’s still staring, lip caught between her teeth.

I lower my mouth to hers, tongue brushing the seam, asking instead of taking.

She opens for me.

God, she opens.

“Let me make you feel good, Lollipop,” I whisper. “Let me show you.”

“Yeah,” Her thighs tighten around my hips as she nods.

I line myself up and ease in—inch by inch, watching her.

She gasps, hands flying to my shoulders.

“It’s okay,” I breathe. “You’re doing perfect.”

She grips me tight—hot, wet heaven. I groan, pushing deeper.

“Fuck,” I pant. “You feel like sin.”

She whimpers, nails biting into my skin. “Declan?—”

“I’ve got you,” I murmur, cupping her jaw as I bury myself. “So good, baby.”

I hold still, letting her adjust, watching her soften, her breath catch.

---