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"Principal, and you’re her security detail. I’m aware."
"So, you know I can’t leave until she assures me she’s fine."
I draw in a breath, then slowly nod. "I’m good."
"Are you sure? I can stay," Finn murmurs.
Declan’s jaw tics. His left eyelid twitches. A sure sign that he’s pissed off. Funny how, even after all these months apart, I’m so tuned into this man. He opens his mouth, but I shake my head, "I’m good, Finn. Honestly. But I’d appreciate some privacy."
Finn hesitates, then turns and leaves.
In the silence that follows, Declan glares at me. "Don’t fucking say his name again," he growls. A muscle pops at his temple. His shoulders seem to swell. He’s doing that impersonation of a very angry alpha male, which is both a little scary and also a turn on.
My nipples harden into points of desire, and my pussy clenches. And still, he doesn’t move. He’s only getting angrier by the second. He opens his mouth, probably, to chew me out, so I do the only thing I can think of to shut him up. I close the distance between us and touch my lips to his. He stiffens but doesn’t move. I share his breath. Draw in that masculine scent of his that I've carried in my memories. His eyes are still open, and I stare into those silver sparks hidden between the darker flickers in his irises. Mesmerizing, enthralling, drawing me in.
I sway forward and my nipples brush his chest. His shoulders bunch, and his chest planes seem to toughen until they seem to be carved from concrete. My mouth dries, my throat closes, and still, he holds me spellbound. He seems to be carved out of stone, but his lips—oh, his lips are so soft. I bite down on his mouth, and a jolt shoots through his body. A small sound of satisfaction escapes me. I lick the drop of blood that beads his lip, and a growl vibrates from him. The tension leaps off of his body, the air around us so thick with our emotions, our lust, the absolute need to immerse in each other, my head spins.
"Declan," I whisper. Not sure what I want. Or what I want to say. Or what I’m waiting for. His approval? His permission? His orders? Why do I get such an unhealthy satisfaction from wanting to please him? And why do I keep resisting this innate urge to satisfy him?
"Declan?" I swallow, and his gaze intensifies. The tendons of his throat pop in relief. He looks like he’s struggling with an internal quandary. Like he wants to throw me on the ground and bury himself between my legs. But at the same time, he’s holding himself back from touching me. And it’s because I sense that internal clash, because I also sense his confusion, the fact that he’s baring himself to me for the first time—all of it causes a softness to invade my chest. I raise my palm and cup his cheek.
"Don’t," he says through gritted teeth.
"Don’t touch you?"
"Not until you tell me if you’re going to agree to my stipulations."
"So, you want me to plunge right back into a relationship—"
"A fake relationship," he growls.
"A fake relationship, but a Dom/sub arrangement that’s not fake?"
His eyes open and he glares at me. Whatever had been troubling him a few seconds ago has been resolved, and once more, he’s the hard, confident man he’s grown into. "That’s what I said.”
I frown. “So let me get this right, we’re going to be fucking, and spending most of our time together but to the world you still want us to portray that we’re in a fake relationship?”
“Exactly,” he nods.
“O-k-a-y, since our relationship is ‘fake’—” I make air-quotes with my fingers, “Does that mean I’m allowed to fuck other men?”
“Fuck no.”
I throw my hands up. “So how, exactly, is this a fake relationship?”
“Because at the core of our relationship is our Dom/ sub agreement which is transactional. There are no other feelings or emotions involved except for my need to control you.”
"You mean, you want me to hand over control to you?" I glance away.
He pinches my chin and applies enough pressure, so I have no choice but to turn to look at him.
"I want to show you who I am,” He looks between my eyes. “Want you to trust me enough to give up your choices to me. Want you to believe in me enough to let me pleasure you and satisfy you and show you how it could be between us."
I take a step back, and he lets me go. I miss his touch already, which is as crazy as this so-called arrangement he’s proposing. I lock my fingers, then set my jaw. "I left behind my childhood home and my family because I never again wanted someone else to tell me what to do. I moved away from everything familiar because I needed to be in control of my destiny. And yet, you want me to give up all of that to you? You want me to give up my power to you?"
"You’re wrong."
"Oh?" I scowl.
