22. Lily #2
I had a few hours before I needed to get ready and the encounter with Abigail had been playing on my mind. I’d promised I would block Declan again, but I didn’t. So, I pull up a message thread and tap one out before I can second guess myself.
Lily: Why does your family think we’re together?
I chew nervously on my nail as I wait, constantly pressing the screen to stop it from timing out, which means I see it the second he reads it. I keep waiting, staring at the spot where the bubbles should pop up to tell me he was typing out a reply, but nothing comes.
I throw the phone down, annoyed, and I turn the TV on, searching for a distraction.
I end up watching reruns of a classic sitcom for two hours, before getting up to get ready for my date.
I’d been honest when I’d told Sasha I didn’t want a relationship, but maybe a good ol’ dicking is exactly what I need to get a little distance from the situation.
After a shower, I dig my little black dress.
It has lacy short-capped sleeves and a flirty hemline that sits around mid-thigh.
It’s a little much for a first date, the dress dropping dangerously low on my back, but it’s exactly what I need to boost my confidence.
I add a pair of strappy stilettos that tie around my ankle with a cute little bow, and pull my hair into a messy bun that sits low on the nape of my neck.
Satisfied with my outfit, I start on my makeup, giving myself a smokey eye and painting my lips in a daring dark red that would normally be right out of my comfort zone.
I’m just putting a small diamond stud in my ear when someone knocks at the front door, making me frown. I head towards it, half-expecting it to be Sasha making sure I’m actually getting ready, and swing it open without checking.
My heart rate immediately spikes at the sight of Declan standing on my porch, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his black shirt pulling tightly over his shoulders and arms, and I curse myself for noticing.
“Hey,” he says smoothly, voice rumbling over me with familiarity and sinking low in my stomach, the sensation worsening when his lip curls into the tiniest of smiles. In the next second, his mouth drops open as he gets a proper look at me, and smug satisfaction blooms in my chest.
“Going somewhere?” he asks roughly, eyes flashing with something I can’t pin down.
Anger? Jealousy? Lust?
He scowls, and I give him a prim smile back. “Yes,” I say easily. “I have a date.”
He chokes on a breath. “A date. You’re going on a?—”
“What’re you doing here, Declan?”
His mouth flattens. “You messaged me, and I wanted to—” his eyes dip again, landing on the hem of my dress.
He looks away with a rough breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Nothing I wanted to say sounded right. Not through text, anyway. So, I thought I’d…
” he trails off, a look of determination coming over his face as he looks back at me.
“But I’m not just letting you go out on a date. Not looking like that. We’re married?—”
“We’re getting an annulment,” I protest hotly. “We are not married.”
He presses his left hand, his finger still bare, against his chest, high on his sternum.
“We are,” he says softly. “And if you want to go out on a date, that’s fine. But you’ll be thinking of me while you do it.”
His eyes darken dangerously, but that’s the only warning I get before he’s manhandling me backwards, following me in and kicking the door shut.
Before I can blink, he’s got me pressed up against the wall, his body caging me in with an arm on either side of my head.
I’m surrounded by him, his scent teasing at my nose, so familiar and drenching me in bitter pain.
I press the heels of my palms into his shoulders, shoving ineffectively. “What the hell are you doing?” I demand furiously. “You can’t just?— ”
He presses a finger to my lips, cutting off my words, ignoring the way my eyes spit fire at him.
“Tell me to go and mean it, and I will,” he assures me, his eyes firmly locked with mine.
I feel unsteady and unsure, my heart racing in my chest. “But I know you still want me as much as I want you.” His fingers trace over the swell of my lip before dipping to my chin, keeping my head angled up.
His other hand drops to play with the hem of my dress, his knuckles skimming the skin of my thigh. I shiver, and he smirks.
“It’s a physical reaction,” I snipe, acting like he’s not affecting me at all. “It doesn’t mean I actually want you.” Lies .
“Oh,” he grins playfully, but there’s a hard glint to his eyes. “Any man would do, huh?”
“Yes,” I hiss. “I don’t need you!”
He presses his forehead to mine, his breath coasting over my face as he says. “No, you don’t. But you still want me.” He pauses, watching me carefully. “Tell me to go, Lily. Tell me to leave, and I will.”
I lick my lips, the words on the tip of my tongue, but when I open my mouth, something else falls out. “You can make me come.”
My eyes widen at the words, almost as much as his. But then his eyes go heavy-lidded with want, and I clench my thighs together, a surge of wetness dampening my panties.
“But that’s it,” I rush to add. “It’s not about you. You’re just…you’re a toy. One I’m using to make myself feel good, to release the tension.” I swallow thickly, heart racing. “I’m using you, just like you used me.”
Pain flares in his eyes, but he hides it by lowering his lashes. A second passes, then another, before he looks at me again, his eyes molten. “You can use me anytime, Lily. I’m yours.” My core tightens at that, and I hide it with a scoff.
“I think you’ve proven otherwise.”
His fingers are on my thigh now, pushing my dress up, teasing at the crease where my thigh meets my hip.
“I’ll prove myself to you,” he murmurs. “I’ll show you I mean what I say.
” He dips his head, his intent clear when his mouth nears mine, but I whip my head to the side, ensuring his lips land on my cheek.
“No kissing,” I say harshly.
He pauses, his fingers on the waistband of my panties. “An orgasm is fine, but kissing isn’t?” he asks incredulously, his eyebrows high on his forehead.
“Are you making me come, or am I finding someone else to do it?” I ask snarkily, refusing to get into the fact that his lips on mine felt more intimate than his fingers between my legs, and I definitely didn’t want to be reminded of the kiss we’d shared after we’d said, ‘ I do ’.
His hand dips behind my neck and makes quick work of pulling my hair out, fisting the strands roughly. My scalp smarts, but it travels like a live wire down my body, straight between my legs where my clit throbs.
“Fine,” he growls out. “No kissing. But this is what you’ll be thinking of on your date.
” It’s a promise, one that sears through me, like an injection of lava into my veins.
“You’ll be sitting across from some asshole, remembering what it’s like to be touched by me, owned by me.
And you’ll remember that you own me, too. ”
He hooks his fingers under the gusset of my panties and yanks them to the side, groaning deeply when he feels the damp lace. His fingers slide through my folds with practiced ease, his eyes glinting with triumph at finding me so wet and ready.
“Soaked,” he murmurs hotly. “You missed me, baby?” It’s a taunt, and I snarl, ignoring the warmth swirling low in my belly.
“Stop talking!”
Amusement tips the corner of his mouth up, and then he’s jerking my head back, and pressing his face into my arched neck, mouth nipping and sucking at my flesh. I quickly grab at his hair, yanking him harder than he did.
“Do not mark me, or this is done,” I warn him.
He chuckles and eases back, but then his fingers are on my clit, the touch delicate and teasing, making my whole-body pulse with need. My legs tremble, knees practically knocking together, and I bite viciously at my lips, refusing to let a single sound slip out. He doesn’t deserve them.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, his raspy voice muffled against my throat.
His fingers drag through my slippery flesh until they’re poised at my entrance, dipping one inside me teasingly before he pulls it back, leaving my inner muscles clenching down on nothing.
My chest heaves, my breathing shallow, as the touch returns to my clit, too light to do anything but wind me up .
I yank on his hair again, digging my nails into his scalp. “Get on with it,” I order breathlessly. “Stop playing around.”
“Isn’t that what toys do?” I lean forward and bite his shoulder, hard, right through the cotton of his shirt, and he jerks back with a curse.
I pull back, smirking when he glares at me.
“I’ve got somewhere to be,” I remind him, and two fingers spear into my body without warning.
Caught by surprise, I cry out, going up on my tiptoes.
He lets go of my hair, grabbing the bodice of my dress and yanking it down under my breast, my lace bra getting the same treatment.
His head lowers and then he’s sucking on my hardened nipple, his teeth grazing me teasingly. I throw my head back with a gasp.
His arm is moving against me, thrusting hard and fast, his palm bumping against that bundle of nerves. A flush crawls over my chest and up into my cheeks, feeling like I might actually die if he were to stop.
My breath comes out in harsh pants, and I wrap an arm around his neck, using him to hold myself up. He lifts his head, pinching my nipple between his fingers, rolling it and then tugging hard, the sensation shooting me higher until nothing exists but him and what he’s making me feel.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs, and I’m too far gone to tell him to shut up, squeezing my eyes shut as the world goes fuzzy and bright all at the same time. His fingers leave me, expertly seeking out my clit.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” It sounds like he’s talking from a great distance away, every atom of my being focused on the glide of his fingers against my clit.
“You’re mine, baby, and your body knows it.
You can go on a date with another man, but this here—” His fingers are inside me again, probing and hard as they scissor apart, stretching me out.
He rumbles out a rough sound, his chest vibrating, as he curls his fingers determinedly.
“This is mine,” he rasps. “No matter what else happens, it will always be mine.”
My vision whites out and my mouth is open, a soundless cry escaping as he shoves me over the precipice, my orgasm crashing through me before I even realized I was there.
He’s breathing hard above me, sweat dotting his upper lip as he eases me back down with gentle swipes of his fingers. He’s let my nipple go, his entire palm holding my breast, and I know he must be able to feel the heavy thud of my heart under his hand.
He straightens and I peel my lids open, watching as he pulls his hand out of my panties, letting my dress fall back into place as he takes a small step back, leaving me slumped against the wall.
I’m not sure what I expect him to do, but it definitely isn’t for him to press his glistening fingers into his mouth and suck.
I watch him wide-eyed as he thoroughly cleans them, with a dark look of pleasure.
Embarrassment and lust mingle in me, my body pulsing like I didn’t just come.
Finally done, he pulls them out and smiles with wet lips, rasping, “Delicious.”
Realizing my state of undress, I tug my bra and dress into place with great dignity and then meet his expectant eyes.
I’m not sure what he wants from me, but I got what I needed from him.
When I catch my breath and trust my voice to be steady, I raise an eyebrow, staring him down.
“You can go now. I’ve got somewhere to be. ”