Chapter 22 #3
I lift my arm, the green light rippling over my skin. “Am I going to end up…marked…um, everywhere?”
He exhales hard but meets my eyes without flinching. “Honestly? I don’t know for sure.”
I blow out a breath, appreciating his honesty. He could’ve lied, but that’s not the Declan I’ve gotten to know. Lying and manipulation aren’t his style.
I take in the gorgeous lines of his body and his intricate, sometimes mind-bending artwork. The piercings my lady bits are demanding we vigorously investigate. We fooled around last night and while the mark climbed up my arm, it didn’t appear on any other places where we touched.
I swallow hard. He’s silent. Completely in control as he waits for me to make the decision. He doesn’t try to convince or talk me into anything.
The choice is all mine.
Not being with him feels like a mistake future me will regret a whole lot more than if I end up branded in new locations.
“I want you,” I whisper.
He presses his palms to my cheeks and leans down, brushing a kiss over my lips. Soft at first, then harder and more demanding. I angle my head, desperate for more.
Warmth and desire like I’ve never experienced rushes through my limbs, arrowing straight between my thighs.
Declan breaks the kiss, his breath hot against my ear. “You sure?” His low rumbling voice is laced with so much restraint it makes my need for him even sharper.
Words fail me, so I nod frantically instead.
I slide my hands up his chest, allowing my fingertips to only graze the edges of his ink.
The horse on his shoulder shifts again, its mane rippling as if caught in a breeze.
A shiver of excitement races down my spine, not from fear, but from the raw power of Declan.
This curse isn’t a story or a myth I’m investigating.
It’s alive, pulsing between us like an otherworldly heartbeat.
He effortlessly lifts me and I let out a yelp.
Cool sheets brush my heated skin. He covers me in an instant, his body so warm, solid, and unyielding.
He drags kisses down my neck, teeth grazing enough to send sparks skittering across my nerves.
I arch into him, digging my fingers into his shoulders.
My skin tingles where the mark glows, heat radiating from my arm like it’s feeding off the energy between us—electric pulses that match the throb building between my thighs.
“Declan,” I gasp. My voice breaks as he trails his hand down my side, his thumb brushing the curve of my hip. He pauses, eyes locking on mine—searching, like he’s memorizing every flicker of want on my face.
“I can be gentle,” he says, his voice rough but edged with a protectiveness that tightens my chest.
“I’m a sturdy girl.” I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him closer. “Just be yourself.”
He lets out a tortured groan and slides his hand lower, fingers teasing, then circling my clit until I’m writhing beneath him, pinned by his much larger body and talented fingers.
“Declan.” I pant short, harsh breaths. The mark on my arm pulses hotter, a strange warmth blooming where his skin meets mine.
“Can you come for me again, just like this?” He nuzzles my neck, dragging his lips against the sensitive skin and lets out a seductive, “Hmmm?”
A hushed giggle escapes me. “Let’s find out.”
He smiles against my neck but thankfully doesn’t tease me.
I angle my hips up and he kisses me again. “Good girl.”
He continues circling my clit with his fingers. Slowly increasing the pressure until I’m wound tight with the deep, desperate need to come.
“I’m close,” I whisper. “So close.”
“I know.” He kisses my neck again. “What do you need? Tell me.”
“More.” I grip his arm and grind myself against his hand harder.
Even with my pleading and begging, he takes his time, slowly working me closer and closer to the edge. With the next flick of his thumb, I finally fall. The tension unwinds in a tidal wave of pleasure, my body arching off the bed.
“That’s it,” he groans as if he’s enjoying my orgasm as much as I am. “God, I love the way you come.”
My mind’s too blank to think of a single retort.
He keeps going, drawing out the pleasure until I’m boneless and panting.
“That…that was...” I close my eyes, unable to complete a full sentence.
“Good, I hope,” he says with a cocky lilt in his voice. He withdraws his fingers, leaving me aching for more.
He reaches for the nightstand, searching through the drawer. I tip my head back and study his intense, bordering on desperate expression. Feeling bold, I reach down and curl my fingers around him, slowly stroking. Not that he needs help staying hard. The man’s harder than an oak tree.
A groan rumbles through his chest, and he briefly closes his eyes while still sifting through the drawer. Finally, he grips a foil square between two fingers, brings it to his mouth, and rips it open with his teeth.
“Thank fuck,” he mutters.
“Hurry,” I whisper, helping him roll the condom on.
He drags his cock through my wetness and groans. “Easy. We’ve got all night.”
“Then kiss me.” I hook my arm around his neck, dragging him closer. Pleasure ripples over me as our lips touch and his tongue strokes mine. I slide my hands over his shoulders and over his back. Slowly, he eases inside and I gasp into his mouth.
“Good?” He pauses, staring down at me.
I nod quickly, my hair tangling under my body, trapping my movements.
“Here.” He rolls to his back, taking me along for the ride, settling me over him. “Show me how eager you are.”
With his hands firmly gripping my waist, I ease down, moaning at the delicious stretch and fullness. A firm nudge in just the right spot pulls another moan from me. My body clenches around him.
More sparks of friction heighten every movement. “Dec…oh my God.”
He lets out a low, rumbling laugh. “Hit something good?”
“Oh my God, yes.” I move faster, chasing the extra sensations. Those small pieces of metal like tiny lightning bolts, electrifying every thrust and slide.
Pressure builds fast, amplified by the curse’s hum vibrating through both of us. The mark on my arm flares, blinding enough for green light to pulse behind my eyelids. He grips my waist tighter, thrusting up when I angle my hips down. Every movement drags another moan from my throat.
I curl my hands around his forearms, hanging on, using him for leverage to move faster.
My world fractures—snapshots burst through the dark.
A flash of metal.
A horse, black and gleaming, pounding over wet grass.
Rain on marble.
A woman in black.
A door closing.
The bronze statue weeping green.
Each image pulses like a heartbeat—too fast to hold onto and too complicated to make sense of. Declan’s voice fades. His bedroom dissolves. My whole existence narrowing to the rhythm between us and the storm of images crashing through my head.
Euphoria like I’ve never felt slams into me. My body tightens, back bowing.
“Emery, you feel—” His voice twists into a groan, shattering the montage of images in my head.
My eyes snap open. For a moment, I’m disoriented. Sweat slicks our skin. His jaw’s clenched tight, eyes locked on mine. Raw vulnerability cracks through his gruff exterior as he parts his lips.
The mark on my arm climbs higher, twisting toward my shoulder. I blink but it remains. I can’t care. Not now. Not with him buried deep, every movement sending sparks that curl my toes.
I cry out as wave after wave pulses through me. Is it the piercings prolonging my orgasm, the curse, or Declan himself? Who cares.
A few seconds later, a guttural groan tears from his throat. He thrusts up hard, the force knocking me forward. I slap my palms against the iron and wood headboard to catch myself and keep moving my hips, drawing out his pleasure too.
“Emery.” He squeezes my backside, my hips, and then slowly lifts me off him.
I fall to the side, and he curls his arm around me, holding me close.
“I need a moment.” He blows out a long, satisfied breath and pats my behind. “Almost blew the top of my skull off trying not to come until you finished.” He laughs, the movement transforming his face into someone lighter and carefree.
My legs quiver and my heart won’t stop pounding. I rest my cheek on his sweaty chest, his heart thumping beneath me. The fire pops and crackles, its warmth filling the room.
A dull throb spreads through my arm and shoulder. I lift my wrist and catch new streaks of green twisting higher toward my collarbone.
Another flash—
the hill,
closed door,
rain on marble.
Gone again, too quick to make sense of, but the afterimage hooks into me like claws. They’re not random images, are they? They felt more like memories or a warning. Maybe both?
Declan squeezes my side, his touch bringing me back to myself. “You all right?”
I shove my arm under the sheet and tilt my head back, forcing a smile. “I’m fantastic.”
Best sex ever.
Thankfully, I keep that last part to myself. It’s too soon to say something so embarrassing.
But that’s not the only reason.
I curl closer to him, pretending it’s afterglow stealing my words.
The mark on my arm moved closer to my heart. Just like he warned me it might. The curse is moving. But did it also try to show me something? If I don’t figure out what it means, embarrassing myself will be the least of my concerns.
Tomorrow, I need to return to the cemetery. Alone. I need to see the Widow. The flashes hint that the answer lies with her, not the Rider.
Satisfied I have a plan, I snuggle closer to Declan. He might be the best sex of my life, but if I don’t figure out how to help him break this curse, he might be my last.