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I groan. “This is blackmail.”
“It sure is, baby.”
“You’re a monster.”
“Your monster.” He gives me another kiss, then brings his hips back so his length is in line with my center.
I purr with want.
“Say it, Catarina. Say it, and I’ll make you come right here against this wall until you can’t see straight.”
Hours later, I will look back on this moment and chastise myself for my weakness. But right now, I could give a damn about pride. Not when I have a man like Declan MacKenzie making such deliciously filthy promises to me.
“Yes,” I sigh. “I’ll move back in.”
Declan doesn’t waste a second. He thrusts into me like a man desperate for salvation and the only thing that can save him is being buried within me.
A strangled cry escapes me at the fullness, quickly followed by gratified moans as he moves against me with expert rhythm, hitting the spot deep within me that I’ve only ever been able to reach with my vibrator. Pain swiftly gives way to delicious warmth.
The sound of our bodies slapping against each other fills the room. Anyone can walk in and see us, but I don’t care. My second sexual experience is overwhelming. Thrilling. I didn’t know it could be this way. I never expected to be this way.
It isn’t long before an orgasm rips through me. “Declan,” I cry out his name, convulsing as he continues to thrust into me.
“That’s it,macushla.”His thrusts keep their pace, letting me ride out the orgasm until my limbs feel like they’re made of jelly. My forehead falls forward to rest on his shoulder. I grip his biceps as he chases his own orgasm. He finishes with a guttural groan, searing his lips against mine as he empties into me.
We stay there, chests heaving, as we both come down from our high. He presses a kiss to my temple before sliding out of me, gently holding my waist until my feet are steady on the floor. Moisture slides down my thighs, and my cheeks heat as the realization of what I just did hits me like a freight train.
Are you serious, Cat? He could have killed your brother…
My conscious immediately tries to erase the blissful euphoria flowing through me, but then Declan takes a handkerchief out of his suit jacket and bends down to run it over my legs, distracting me from the negative thoughts.
For now, at least.
Declan cleans me up the best he can before straightening my thong and rolling down the bottom of my dress. Then, he stands and tucks himself back into his briefs and trousers.
Through it all, I watch in silence. I don’t know what to say.
I wait for Declan to break the silence—to say something to help me process the heated moment we just exchanged. To say something to help me cope with the conflicting emotions wreaking havoc in my heart when I think of how complicated our relationship has been since day one and how time only seems to make it even more so.
My eyes follow his calloused hand as it runs through his hair, trying to fix the damage caused by my fingers. Then, I meet his gaze, and there’s no missing the relaxed shine in his stunning irises.
“You should get back to the event.” He places a sweet kiss against my temple. “I’ll see you at home,macushla.” Then, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving me speechless.
Chapter4
Declan
The thin carpet under my sneakers needs repair. It’s so worn that holes show the concrete floor underneath. Not to mention the number of cigarette burns blackening the surface. I rarely notice these things when I’m here. The cover of night and the crowd of eager gamblers looking to risk their hard-earned money on a game of blackjack conceals the dilapidated state of the building Enrique Santiago uses as one of his gambling dens. My family doesn’t run this establishment, but now that we’re associated with the enterprise, I should insist the Puerto Ricans raise their standards. The investment will bring more revenue. Reputation matters.
I’m mentally cataloging different things to mention to Jane to bring to the leader of the gang when I reach the office door with chipped red paint in the back of the room. Not bothering to knock, I grab twist the rusted handle and step inside.
Jane and Myles are already inside. So are Santiago and one of his grandsons, Juan. Even in the dim fluorescent light, Santiago’s deteriorating health is obvious. The old man’s wrinkled skin sags, and there are dark purple circles under his eyes that weren’t there months ago. Part of his state is due to the natural progression of age, but I know the stress his rogue gang members have likely taken years off the man’s life.
“MacKenzie,” Santiago greets. He pushes against the armrests of his chair to stand.
“Don’t get up.” I take the seat in front of the desk where he sits. The aged wood is littered with stacks of yellow, pink, and white papers and an assortment of writing utensils. My compulsive need for everything to be in its place urges me to organize the surface, but I shove down the desire. It’s difficult to do. I’ll likely be thinking about the mess when I try to go to sleep this evening.
Unless I can distract myself with thoughts of my stunning fiancée instead.
