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Says probably any decent psychiatrist.
“It’s wrong.”
Declan leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning my skin before his tongue began to lap at my center. I gasped as bliss surged through me, unfamiliar sensations washing over my body. “Take your power back, Wildflower.” His hands were firm as they gripped my thighs, pressing them open wider and giving him access to all of me. He took his time exploring and tasting me, his tongue slipping inside and then flicking against my most sensitive spots until I was all but trembling with desire.
My protests had faded away as I was lost in a sea of satisfaction. Every lick and every caress sent a wave of delight through me, and soon my body was swaying and moving to meet his lips.
Maybe it was fucked up.
Maybe I should have been nursing my wounds.
Maybe Declan made me feel fucking powerful. Like choosing to submit was my way of fighting back.
Maybe I didn’t know what I needed anymore, and maybe I was damaged past the point of no return. But I wanted this. I wanted to feel good.
I finally grasped his head in my hands, wrapping my fingers in his hair and pushing him deeper into me. His mouth moved over me in a way that felt like pure ecstasy, pushing me higher and higher until I was practically screaming out. He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through me and amplifying the feeling of his stroking tongue. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it any longer, he pulled away, leaving me panting and wanting more.
His teeth gently grazed across my swollen flesh as he increased the power, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me with every touch. And then it happened; a delicious heat pooled deep within me as Declan drove me closer and closer to the edge with expert precision.
Just as I thought I could take no more, his fingers joined in, and it felt like every nerve ending in my body was on fire.
“I’m going to make you come,” he promised before increasing the pressure of each stroke until I was on the brink of tumbling over the edge. With one final flick of his tongue, I broke apart into pieces beneath him, wave after wave crashing over me until I lay spent.
He shifted up, pressing soft kisses along my inner thighs before slowly crawling up beside me in bed. “You need to leave,” I croaked.
“Well, that’s not nice,” he teased. “And no.”
Our eyes were locked in a fierce battle of wills. The tension between us was palpable, like the charged air before a storm.
“Declan,” I said, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms defiantly. “This is really fucked up.”
He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, Wildflower, sometimes fucked-up things are fun,” he taunted, leaning closer, the heat of his body radiating toward me.
I felt my face grow warm, but I refused to back down. “You tied me up,” I retorted. “I escaped and now you’re here . . . here . . .”
“Eating your pussy? I thought you liked that.” Declan chuckled, leaning in so close that I could feel his breath on my ear. “You say no now, but I bet you’d change your tune if you knew what I had planned for you,” he whispered, his voice dripping with seductive intent.
I swallowed hard as I fought to keep my composure. I refused to let him see how much his words affected me. “Oh, really?” I challenged, raising an eyebrow and meeting his searching eyes with all the confidence I could muster. “And what would that be?”
He grinned, his eyes darkening with desire. “That, my dear Clover, is something you’ll have to discover for yourself,” he replied, his fingers lightly brushing against my arm, and my heart skipped a beat. “Once you stop fighting me, I’ll make you feel so good.”
I sucked in a harsh breath, fortifying myself against his provocative gaze. “Don’t mistake lust for affection,” I bit out, attempting to hide the storm of conflicting emotions within me. “I won’t be manipulated by you, Declan. We can’t simply ignore the fact that you’re a murderer.”
His eyes danced with a potent blend of tenacity and mirth. “All loose ends are tied, darling,” he purred, his voice resonating with an ominous assurance. “No one will come looking.”
A distant clatter from the kitchen pierced through my spiraling thoughts. Avery. Panic gripped me, the stark reality of Declan’s life suffocating my playful demeanor. My protective instincts flared to life.
“Declan, you have to go,” I demanded, my tone steeped in urgency. “Avery is here. You showing up unannounced is a risk I can’t afford.”
His brow furrowed, a grimace of disappointment tainting his features. “What if I just stayed for breakfast? Your sister won’t be in danger. Neither will you.”
“No, Declan. Your assurances aren’t enough. Get out before she notices,” I implored, desperation creeping into my voice.
Ignoring my pleas, Declan got up from the bed, his signature smirk returning. He began to dress, and for a fleeting moment, I allowed relief to wash over me. However, instead of making his exit, he sauntered toward the kitchen, his audacity leaving me breathless. As quickly as I could, I pulled on my robe and trailed after him, apprehension gnawing at me.
“Declan, I’m not joking. Get out!” I spat, attempting to push him back toward the entrance without attracting Avery’s attention.
With a dismissive chuckle, he shrugged me off. “Just want a meal, Clover. Then, I’m gone.”
