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Fuck.
Of course I do. It happened the first time I looked into his eyes. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it’s true all the same.
Declan eyes me as Niall gives me a gentlemanly nod and leaves the room. The sound of the door closing has my heart pounding in my chest for a completely different reason than it was earlier.
With Declan in front of me, the feeling of panic I couldn’t shake in the coffee shop evaporates. There’s a knowing expectation in his eyes. I want to ignore it, if only for a little while longer.
“Are you okay,mo rós beag?” His voice is filled with concern. I want to wrap it around me and snuggle in until spring comes.
But I can’t.
I nod slowly as I close the distance between us, pushing thoughts of Niall Farrell, Cillian Murphy, and my parents to the deepest parts of my mind. Declan’s eyes darken as he watches my hips sway with every step that I take closer to him. He turns toward me when I step around his desk.
My heart swells with the trust he gives me in such a simple act. If I were an enemy, he would keep the desk between us. Right?
I drop to my knees, and he grunts, “What are you doing?”
I’m a little surprised my hands don’t shake as I reach for his belt, undoing it and his pants quickly. Will he stop me? I don’t want to find out.
His cock is already hard as he lifts his hips and gives me enough room to tug down his pants and boxers. I lick my lips as I take him in, my fingertip teasing the throbbing vein running along the length of his shaft.
He groans and it makes me feel powerful. Even on my knees. Even knowing he holds my life in his hands.
“I don’t think you’ll believe the words.” I look up at him, his blue eyes flashing with something that makes my heart flutter. “I’m showing you I’m more than okay and how much I appreciate you sending help when I was scared.”
Declan clenches his jaw and his lips part, but I don’t want to hear his words. I can’t give him any more reassurance. More lies or promises would bleed me dry.
Instead, I stall his breath and wrap my lips around the crown of his cock, my tongue swiping along the spongy flesh and collecting the first drop of pre-cum like it’s a delicacy. Because it is.
With one taste, everything distills down to the man in front of me. When his knees spread wider, I scoot closer, and my tits press against the inside of his thighs. I wrap my hand around the base of his length and squeeze.
As I start to move, my mouth taking more and more of his shaft, he makes the sexiest sounds. Does he know that, at least for this moment, I own him? If he does, he doesn’t seem to mind.
He smells spicier, all man and all mine.
Even if I can’t keep him.
Even if it will break my heart when the mirage finally vanishes in front of me.
I suck his cock like he’s my last meal. Every swipe of my tongue sends him higher, his thighs clenching and his voice breaking on well-worn growls and gritted out moans. His pleasure is not just his own.
It’s mine.
When he pulls the band holding back my ponytail out of my hair and his fingers thread through the strands, I give myself over to him. His hips pump as he presses me down farther and farther on his cock. The way he forces me to take more only makes my pussy throb in time with his heartbeat.
Throb.
Beat.
More.
I look up at him, our eyes clashing and holding.
“You’re going to swallow every single fucking drop I give you, Roisin,” he snarls.
I swallow around the head of his cock, and he pushes just a little bit deeper, stealing my breath, stealing my fucking soul. I should panic. I should try and scramble away.
I don’t.
