His hands shot out, grabbing my shirt, yanking me into him as his mouth crashed into mine.
The kiss was desperate, bruising. An explosion of pent-up frustration and hunger.
His fingers twisted in my hair, nails biting into my scalp, and I moaned into his mouth, pressing against him, pushing until his back hit the wall.
“Donovan,” he murmured.
Declan dragged his lips down my throat, over the mark he’d left there. He bit down on the tender skin just enough to make me gasp.
"You were really going to leave me?" I muttered against his skin, teeth scraping over his jaw.
Declan shuddered. "I thought it was the only way."
I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, my hands framing his face.
"It’s not." I kissed him again, softer this time, lingering. "I choose you, Declan. No matter what happens next, I choose you."
His breath hitched, his fingers digging into my sides like he was grounding himself in me. For a moment, he didn’t say anything.
Just stared at me like he was memorizing my face, like he was searching for any trace of hesitation. But there was none.
Finally, something in him gave way. The tension drained from his body, his forehead dropping to mine.
"I don’t deserve you," he murmured.
I exhaled a shaky laugh. "Too bad. You’ve got me anyway."
A low sound rumbled in his throat, deep and guttural, as his fingers curled into my shirt.
In the next breath, he was pulling me down onto the bed, his grip desperate, as if he was afraid I might disappear if he let go.
His hands were rough and searching, sliding under my shirt, fingertips tracing over the ridges of my spine, igniting heat everywhere he touched.
His mouth found mine in a kiss that was all fire and need, his lips insistent, his teeth grazing my bottom lip before he pulled me even closer.
I could feel the tension in his body, the war between restraint and desire, the way he held onto me like I was the only thing keeping him tethered to this moment. .
We tangled together, bodies flush, legs tangled, skin against skin.
My breath caught as he rolled me onto my back, his weight pressing me into the mattress, grounding me.
There was nothing hesitant about him now. No more doubt. Just him, just us, giving in to something that had been building for too long.
His mouth moved to my throat, his breath hot against my skin, his fangs dragging lightly over the mark he'd left before.
He lingered there, as if to remind himself that I was his.
That I chose to be his.
A shudder ran through me, and I tightened my grip on him, nails digging into his shoulders as he kissed a slow, searing path down my chest.
Every touch was a vow, every whispered breath between us a promise. We undressed each other, quickly and efficiently.
“How do you want me?” I asked him.
“On the bed. On all fours,” Declan said in a commanding voice that sent a bolt of desire through my spine.
I positioned myself on the edge of the bed, heard him moving around. The next thing I knew, Declan was applying lube into my entrance.
