Page 25 of Declan

I took in her red-rimmed eyes, her matted, wet hair, perfect lips, and wondered if I’d ever had a chance. From the moment I saw her, knife in hand dripping blood, the man she’d killed at my feet, I’d felt that invisible connection snap into place. She’d saved my life. And since that day, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Not a day had passed when she hadn’t flitted through my mind. Then she showed up in Annapolis and that connection simmered until neither of us could deny it was there.

So, no, I never stood a chance. Not against her magnetic pull. Not against her beauty. My body, my broken heart, and my black soul recognized hers.

Now I was going to kiss her after months of fucking her.

And I didn’t have the first clue what the fuck I was doing.

“Then I’ll be your first,” I rasped.

“Declan.”

Her eyes widened in fear, her body stiffened, but again she didn’t pull away.

“Just feel, baby.” I brushed my lips against hers and felt them tremble. “Feel, baby,” I murmured, not taking my mouth off hers.

“Spent my life not wanting to feel anything,” she muttered and my heart seized.

Goddamn, I knew what that was like. Going through life, doing everything you could to dull the pain. Push it out, block it out, numb it. Anything and everything just so you didn’t feel.

“Feel with me.”

I licked the seam of her lips, Autumn gasped, and I gently pushed my tongue into her mouth. The first swipe of her tongue against mine was stilted and tentative. A few seconds passed and she tilted her head, relaxed her lips, and tried again. So fucking sweetly she moaned. Not a sex-induced groan of pleasure. A soul burning moan full of pain.

I briefly doubted what I was doing to her was right. Making her feel something she didn’t want. Forcing her to give me something she’d kept for herself. I believed she’d never kissed any of those assholes who abused her. That was pure Autumn, she’d fight to keep a piece of herself, no matter how small. But she’d fight like fuck to control something when everything else was being taken from her.

Now I’d taken it.

Just when I was getting ready to break the kiss and apologize for being a supreme dick, she fully relaxed and pressed her naked tits against my bare chest. When she moaned again it was guttural, not painful but cleansing.

And that was all I needed to stop thinking and start feeling with her.

Feelings I’d long ago thought died. Feelings that went beyond lust, beyond release. Emotions I never wanted to feel again. But there was no denying she’d embedded herself in my soul.

My hands tightened on her face and I fought to keep the kiss gentle when all I wanted to do was plunder and claim. But she needed slow, even if her body was screaming for more.

By the time I pulled my lips from hers, my cock was throbbing. Autumn was panting, and when she opened her eyes I didn’t see a lust-induced haze, all I saw was beauty.

Be the man I know you are.

Fucking, fucking, Christ.

I didn’t know who the fuck I was. I didn’t know what kind of man I could be. I’d tried once and it ended in a catastrophe of tragedy.

What the hell had I done?

I didn’t have time to dwell. Autumn blinked and awareness crept back in. I braced for her ire. What I should’ve done was found hurricane straps and built a bunker. She sucked in so much air it was a miracle she’d left any for me. There was a beat of silence, both of us statue-still staring at each other, then a gut-wrenching sob tore through her and her legs buckled.

I didn’t remember moving, I didn’t know how I caught her before she fell, nor did I remember carrying her from the shower to the bed. I was on auto-pilot. All I heard was her feral cries as tears poured out of her. Christ, so many tears. A typhoon of emotions that streamed down her cheeks in a never-ending river.

What the fuck had I done?

Chapter 9

I had no idea how long Declan had been holding me.

I didn’t even remember getting out of the shower or him putting us in bed. But there we were. He was on his back, my head was resting on his chest, and his arm was around me. He was also holding me tight, anchoring me to him so I wouldn’t drift away.

I desperately wanted to lash out. I wanted to rail against the kindness he was showing me. I didn’t want it. I didn’t deserve it. I was a horrible, disgusting person. But I was too damn tired. I’d been fighting for years. Fighting to escape, to stay alive, then to escape more.