Chapter 31 #2
I moaned as he fucked me harder, his hips slamming against my ass, his cock hitting every spot inside me that made me see stars.
I was already a breath away from falling when he moved his other hand lower, sliding down over my belly and straight toward my aching clit.
His fingers barely brushed over it, making me desperate for more contact. And then—
Smack.
I jolted and let out a shocked gasp when he spanked my pussy once. Moaned when he did it a second time. The third sent me spiraling.
I screamed his name, coming around his cock, but he didn’t let up. Not when I clenched around him, making the snug fit even tighter. Not when I sobbed into the side of his neck. Not when I whimpered from the overstimulation as he continued rubbing my clit through it all.
“Greedy little cunt,” he rasped, his voice raw. “Still sucking me in like you want more. You want more, rebel?”
“Yes.” I pushed back against him, this ache inside me nowhere near sated.
“Yeah?” He bent me forward once again, gripped my hips, and slammed into me. “Then take it.”
His rhythm turned savage, punishing, like something inside him had snapped. I scraped my nails against the couch cushion as he pounded into me, grunting every time he bottomed out. He loosened his grip on my left hip, his hand sliding over my ass.
And then he brushed his thumb against my back entrance, and I froze while sensations battled inside me. The slow, sinful drag of his thumb against me made everything inside clench with need and desire. But embarrassment bloomed hot under my skin, unmistakable and unavoidable.
This wasn’t something good girls were supposed to like, was it?
Even while he continued fucking me deeply, he circled my ass with slow, gentle movements—teasing, testing. “What color?”
I gripped a pillow and swallowed, scared to move forward. Scared to stop. Scared to be honest, but knowing I needed to be. “Yellow.”
“That’s my good girl.” Pride filled his voice, and my throat tightened at the sincere words, a lump of unexpected emotion rising behind the pleasure and the lust.
Because he meant every syllable of his praise for me. Even now. Even like this. Bent over the couch, fucked out of my mind, and trembling while he teased a part of me I’d never let anyone near.
The shame buried deep inside me didn’t vanish, not completely. It just…softened.
And maybe that was enough.
His rhythm remained steady, grounding, while his touch stayed gentle. Never pushing, never receding. Just continued with the kind of patience that made me feel seen.
Want began to swell deep inside me where fear had lived a moment ago, slow but certain. And by the time he pressed his thumb a bit harder against my back entrance, I was already moving with him, my hips meeting his thrusts like my body had made the decision for me.
“Green,” I breathed.
“Yeah? Gonna let me in everywhere, baby?”
“Please.”
“Goddamn, I’m gonna come just from how sweet you sound.”
He pressed his thumb inside slowly, carefully. Just an inch or two, but it was enough to undo me, to overload my system, while he fucked me in deep, hard strokes. The dual sensation of him filling both my ass and pussy cracked something wide open inside me, my body already readying for release.
“Fuck, I can feel you. Feel how much my sweet, innocent girl loves my thumb in her ass while she’s stuffed full of my cock. Such a dirty girl, aren’t you? My dirty little good girl.”
I let out a choked sound, his words lighting the fuse inside me as I tumbled headlong toward the edge.
“Give it up to me, rebel.” He bent over my back, bit down on my shoulder, and whispered, “Give it up to me like I know you want to.”
The pressure of him everywhere—inside me, stretching me, filling me—combined with his teeth at my shoulder and his filthy praise in my ear sent something violent and unstoppable ripping through me.
On a broken cry, I shattered, my orgasm crashing over me in hard, pulsing waves. I came around his cock and his thumb like my body had been waiting for exactly this—exactly him—my entire life.
I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop clenching. Couldn’t stop the helpless little sounds tumbling from my lips as he kept fucking me through it.
“Declan—oh god—”
“That’s it. There’s my good girl. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, Penelope.”
I was still riding the overwhelming aftershocks when he reached down, circled my clit with brutal precision, and I spun straight into another free fall.
My orgasm was shorter this time. Sharper.
My body locking up around his cock like I couldn’t bear the sensations coursing through me and couldn’t survive without them either.
He removed his hand from between my thighs and wrapped it around my throat again. “You feel how good we fit together? Feel how this tight little cunt was made for me?”
I nodded against him, unable to answer in words. But I did feel…
I felt every inch of him, filling me like no one else ever had…ever could. Felt every tremor that rocketed through us both. Felt every pulse of his cock inside me, every claiming thrust, every desperate contraction of my body around him.
“You gonna remember this? Next time you’ve got your fingers buried in your pussy while you make yourself come, are you gonna remember who makes you feel this good?” His words were filthy, but the way he said them was almost pleading.
“Yes,” I breathed, nothing but honesty in the single syllable. “Only you, Declan.”
“Fuck,” he rasped against my ear, his rhythm becoming desperate. Uncontrolled. “Fuck, Penelope. You’re gonna make me come.” He tightened his grip on my throat, the pressure just enough to pull a gasp from me. “Where do you want it? Tell me where you want me.”
“Inside.” The word escaped before I could second-guess it. “Come inside me.”
Something feral flickered in his eyes—possession and need and something darker. Something I couldn’t quite name.
“Yeah?” He snapped his hips harder against me, driving deeper. “Want me to fill you up? Claim every fucking inch of you?”
I reached behind and dug my nails into his ass, urging him closer. Wanting to mark him like he was about to do to me. “Declan, please—”
His movements stuttered, his thrusts becoming erratic, and then he sank deep and stilled, calling my name like a prayer and a curse and a confession all at once.
Gripping my hip hard enough to bruise, he came with a groan that seemed to be torn from deep in his chest, his cock jerking as he buried himself to the hilt.
I moaned as I felt every pulse and desperate twitch…
every broken breath against my temple as he held me like I might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly.
When the tremors finally subsided, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and held me against the firm, damp wall of his chest, still buried deep inside me. Making me feel more connected to another human being than I ever thought possible.
“Jesus Christ.” He tucked his face into the curve of my neck, his ragged breath ghosting over my skin before he pressed a kiss there.
I couldn’t tell if it was awe or terror woven through his voice. Maybe both. Because god knew that was what I was feeling right now. Wondering what the hell I’d opened myself up to. What path I’d willingly walked down.
Reaching back, I threaded my fingers through his sweat-damp hair, my heart still racing, my body still trembling with aftershocks and the weight of what had passed between us.
I didn’t have a ton of experience—I didn’t hardly have any experience—but I couldn’t believe this was normal. Was this what every woman who’d ever been with Declan had felt after he’d fucked her? If so, how in the hell had they let him go?
Moreover, how was I going to?
When our thirty days were over—when this all came to an end—how was I going to walk away after experiencing something as powerful as this? After feeling a connection that I absolutely wasn’t ready to give up just yet…