Chapter 19 #2
My head falls back against the mirror, a moan slipping past my lips. Declan curses under his breath, jaw clenched as he buries himself deep.
“Fuck, you feel like heaven,” he breathes, starting to move. Every stroke is deliberate, hard, and deep, like he wants to brand himself into my soul.
I hold on tight, nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist as he drives into me over and over. The rhythm builds fast, our bodies in perfect sync, like this was always meant to happen.
The heat coils low in my belly, everything tightening, spiraling.
“Declan!”
“I’ve got you, baby. Come for me.”
And I do.
My body shudders around him, clenching tight as he follows with a growl, as he finds his release, still holding me like I’m the most important thing in the world.
We stay like that for a moment, forehead to forehead, catching our breath.
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper, smiling like an idiot.
Declan grins, brushing a kiss against my lips. “Yeah.”
The next few weeks are a whirlwind. Declan and I spend as much time together as possible. When he’s not handling club business and I’m not working, we’re together. I thought we were close before, but since we’ve gotten together, I feel like I know him, like really know him.
We both find it difficult to trust anyone, and yet we’ve opened up to each other like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
I’ve confided in him about my fears of relationships, and he confided in, me telling me about the fight club that the club runs.
I was surprised but not shocked. They are men who live on the edge of danger, and I think that’s part of the pull to him.
As we lay tangled in bed, our bodies still humming from yet another mind-blowing night of sex, the room thick with the scent of sweat and sex, I turn to him.
The sheets are a mess beneath us, our skin still slick and warm from each other, but none of that matters right now.
I can’t hold the question in anymore. My heart is thudding in my chest. Not from pleasure this time, but nerves.
Declan props himself up on one elbow, his dark eyes already locked on mine like he knows I’m about to wreck the quiet moment between us. He reaches out, gently cups my cheek, his thumb brushing across the corner of my mouth.
“What’s up, baby?” he asks, voice low and raspy. His fingers are calloused, rough in a way that feels comforting against my skin.
He knows me too well. He can see right through me before I even speak. That’s always been the thing about Declan. He doesn’t just look at me. He sees me.
“We’ve been together for a while now,” I begin, my voice quieter than I mean it to be.
He smiles, slow and soft, before leaning in and brushing the barest kiss against my lips, still swollen from everything he just did to me. “Best time of my life.”
God, he always says things that hit unexpectedly hard. And always when I need it most.
“Mine too,” I whisper.
He shifts, sitting up and pulling me between his legs, his chest against my back, arms wrapped around me. Protective. Anchoring. “You’re not done talking,” he murmurs against the side of my neck. “Tell me whatever it is you need to say.”
I hate how nervous I am right now. I’ve never felt nervous with Declan. Not when we were kids sneaking out, not when he first kissed me, not even the first time he got me naked and worshiped my body like it was his religion. But now? With this?
I’m shaking.
I swallow down the nerves and turn to face him fully, my bare thighs brushing against his. “What happened with Josh Wilson?”
His body tenses instantly. I feel it. See it. Like I just pulled a pin from a grenade and dropped it between us.
His eyes flick away, cold and distant as they fix on the wall. “Who?”
“Declan,” I say, warning in my voice. “Don’t do that. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He sighs, jaw tight, and arm still wrapped around me, but now it feels more like a restraint than a comfort. “That was a long time ago, Lena.”
“I know. But I came to you. I confided in you. Just like I did with Jason.” I pause, watching him. His expression gives away nothing. That mask of his is nearly impenetrable. But I know better than anyone, he’s not as cold as he pretends.
“What are you asking me?” he asks, voice flat. But I hear it. Buried deep. Anger. Or maybe guilt.
“I’m asking what happened.”
His gaze finally flicks to mine, and something in them softens before he looks away again. “Lena, you came to me for help. You didn’t say the words, but I knew. You were asking me to fix it.”
I pull away from him, wrapping my arms across my bare chest, suddenly needing some kind of shield. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He runs a hand through his already messy hair, eyes dark and stormy. “Stop pretending you’re some na?ve girl. You’ve always known what I am. When you show up at my door bruised and bloody, you know what that means. You knew I’d fix it.”
“I didn’t ask you to kill him,” I say, my voice rising. “But you did, didn’t you!”
“You had a black eye, Lena. A split lip. You looked so fucking broken I could barely breathe. What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?”
He’s shouting now, and I flinch, not from fear, but from the sheer weight of his emotion. It’s raw and unfiltered and aimed directly at me.
“No one puts their hands on you,” he growls. “Not while I’m breathing. You came to me wrecked, and I did the only thing I knew how to do. I saved you. From Josh. From Jason. The second they laid hands on you, they were dead men.”
My stomach twists. My skin feels too tight. “You killed Josh and Jason?”
“Yes, Lena. Fuck.” He throws the blanket off and stands, muscles taut and shaking as he yanks his boxers on. “When it comes to you, I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep you safe.”
I scramble off the bed, grabbing his shirt off the floor and pulling it over my head. It smells like him, cologne and sweat and sex, and it wraps around me like armor as I chase after him into the kitchen.
He’s already got a beer cracked open, his back to me, head bowed.
“Don’t ask me,” he says, without turning around. “I won’t tell you.”
“I don’t want the details,” I say quietly. “I don’t need to know how.”
He exhales slowly, finally leaning back against the counter, eyes guarded. “So what, Lena?”
“You’ve risked your life for me. Twice.” It’s not a question. It’s a truth that lands with a sickening thud in my chest.
He sets the beer down and walks toward me. Each step feels heavier than the last. And then he’s standing in front of me, looming, warm, and overwhelming. I’m trembling, but not from fear.
From knowing.
“You love me,” I whisper, voice trembling as I look up at him.
His hands grab my hips and pull me close, his breath brushing against my lips. His eyes burn into mine.
“Yes, Lena Lennon, I love you,” he says, voice thick with conviction. “I’ve always loved you. I didn’t think I’d ever say it, but I swore that when you needed protecting, I wouldn’t hesitate. You weren’t mine then, but I loved you like you were. And when they touched you, it ended them.”
Tears spill down my cheeks before I can stop them. I knew. I’ve always known on some level what he was capable of. But I didn’t understand why. Not until now.
“I thought you did it because of Wesley,” I choke out. “Because I’m his sister.”
He shakes his head. “Wesley doesn’t know. He knows Jason hurt someone, but I never said who. As for Josh, no one knows. That was all me.”
My heart nearly shatters under the weight of it. “Declan, I love you too. I’ve always loved you.”
He doesn’t give me time to catch my breath. His mouth crashes onto mine with bruising intensity. It’s not gentle. It’s desperate. Possessive. His hands grip my body like he needs to remind himself I’m real, that I’m his now, fully, completely, irrevocably.
The world outside doesn’t exist. Not the lies, not the blood, not the chaos. Just us. Two broken souls clinging to each other like salvation.
This love is dangerous.
It’s twisted and messy and scary as hell.
But right now? It’s everything.