Chapter 14 #2
Is that the third time he’s threatened me with a punishment? And I don’t even know what it means. A small part of me is curious, almost wanting to rebel just to find out. But I also fear that he’ll get angry with me.
Do I want that?
I don’t have the time to think it through.
He pushes my face between his legs, and my mouth is against his balls.
They’re soft and delicate, and in some ways, this is trust. My tongue slips out, tasting his skin, the tang of his perspiration and even a hint of his cum.
I lick again, more firmly, and he gives a sigh.
“That’s my girl.”
Am I? Is that what this makes me? Is that what I want?
Declan when he’s dominant is… less caring, somehow. Harsher. More selfish.
No, I’m not sure that’s true… he still played with me, brought me to an orgasm on his fingers.
I don’t know, maybe this is normal. Maybe this is what people do in the bedroom, and it’s what I should expect.
I lick him again and again, nuzzling my face into him, part of me strangely enjoying being here, between his legs, in this ultimate act of intimacy.
It’s not just sensual, it’s submission, and we both know it.
He calls me his hellcat, but there are no claws now.
Not when he controls me in his bed. Or in mine, for that matter.
Have we really only slept together twice? And already, here I am, licking his balls, half in fear of punishment and half in willing submission?
At last, he draws me up, still using my hair as a convenient handle. Only when I’m lying beside him does he release me, and instead his hand falls to palm my breast. His other arm pulls me against him, and he gives a rumble of contentment that echoes through his chest.
My cheek is against his skin, the skull grinning at me from the center of his chest, leaves and flames and fine knotwork spreading out in every direction.
I trace one line of it with a fingertip, thinking of the Marine tattoo on his arm, the history he has.
Hold Fast on his knuckles, where others might use Hate Love. It’s more him.
A quiet moment. Nice. Peaceful.
My mind is anything but at peace.
“Was that… good?” I ask, tentatively.
He gives a low chuckle. “I would happily tear off the heads of any man who’s touched you in the past,” he says, like he’s talking about squashing a cockroach.
“But in some perverse way, I’m grateful to them for showing you what wrong looks like.
Now, we get to explore right, together, for the first time. ”
A nice sentiment, save that I’m certain this isn’t his first time at all.
He means me. Treating me like I’m what, a virgin? No… his.
“What am I to you?” I ask, not sure I want the answer.
He doesn’t hesitate. “My little hellcat.”
My. Mine. His.
I try again. “How do you see me?”
He puts a finger under my chin and tilts my face up to his. “What do you mean?”
I don’t know what I’m trying to say. “Do I… matter to you?”
“Matter?” he echoes, then his mouth curls slowly into that rare playful smile. “Yes, Raven, you matter.” He leans in and brushes his lips across mine. “Do you doubt it?”
That’s not the right word. I know he cares…
somehow, at some level. It’s not love, and neither of us is pretending it is.
It might be, one day, but not now. No, this is something simpler, yet complex in its own way.
This isn’t just sex, or intimacy, or dominance, it’s…
possession. That’s the word I keep coming back to.
Like I’m his property.
Is that how he sees me? Or is that merely what I am to him, in action if not words?
I know I should object. At some level, I do. Fiercely.
Yet it isn’t as simple as I thought, because I respond to that idea the same way I do to good girl: craving more of it.
Fuck, I’d lick him again if he told me to, anywhere he wanted, if only he’d keep me here, with him.
Not healthy, Raven.
I know that, yet it doesn’t change how I feel.
Declan stirs against me, and sighs heavily.
“What is it?” I ask. What have I done, or not done?
“Regretfully, I can’t stay here all day. Places to be, Hellcat.”
I turn in his arms, looking at the clock on the nightstand. It’s 9:17, not early, not late for a Saturday. “That’s fine,” I say, trying to keep it light, when all I really feel is loss. “I need to get home too.”
“You could stay here,” he counters. “Spend the day in bed, if you want.”
Lying on sheets that smell of him, of us. It’s almost tempting, but I need time by myself. To think, if nothing else.
“No, I’ll… go home.”
“As you wish.”
He pushes himself up, climbing out, and walks naked through his apartment. I watch his ass until it’s out of sight, and a moment later, his shower starts up.
I roll onto my back and stare at his ceiling.
There’s a nagging feeling I can’t place, or put my finger on. I feel… untethered. Out of sorts.
It’s probably what we’ve just done. What he made me do.
The taste of his cum still lingers in my mouth.
But as I lie there, trying to analyze myself, I don’t think that’s it. I like the taste of him. I want the scent of him on my skin.
No, it’s not that.
And then it hits me.
I’ve been waiting for him to leave, knowing he would. Just like he did a week ago, at five thirty. And now he’s off again, somewhere so important.
It makes me realize how little I know of him.
Kurt’s voice intrudes in my head.
“Do you trust him? On a job, would you know he had your back?”
And for everything we’ve done, my answer is the same now as it was then: “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
He has secrets, that much is clear.
Everyone’s allowed secrets, Raven.
Secrets, yes. But lies? No one goes for a walk and takes their bike. That’s not a fucking walk. He didn’t say he went for a ride. I’d have accepted it if he had. No, it was a walk, somewhere that he couldn’t go without getting there first.
At five thirty in the morning.
Gone for at least two hours.
It’s Saturday, and he’s out again.
Where are you going to, Declan?
Part of me wants to know. Hell, all of me wants to know.
Kurt would tell me to do it, but I’m not the kind of girl that follows a man, spying on him.
Am I?
Can I?
The shower cuts off and a moment later he walks back in, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His hair is damp, droplets of water cling to his chest. He’s mesmerizing. Beguiling.
That was the word I used the first day I saw him, and it’s more true now than it was then.
“You’re a sight,” he says, pausing at the side of the bed to look down at me.
“I am?” And here I was, just thinking the same.
“Hair in a mess, skin flushed, naked and still wet, I wager.” He playfully lifts the side of the duvet, and I shove it down, blushing. “Now I want to know more than ever,” he says. He takes his hand back, and his chin jerks in command. “Show me.”
“What?”
He subtly leans in. “Move the duvet, spread your legs.” His voice goes low. “Show. Me.”
Fuck.
“Declan,” I begin, a note of protest. I get no further before his hand flashes out, gripping my throat. Like he anticipated my refusal.
“I’ve already told you what I want.” Three fingers of his other hand slap into my cheek.
Heavy enough to feel it, to redden the skin, perhaps.
It stings, not enough to hurt. A chastisement, a humiliation.
More startling than pain. “Are you going to show me?” Another slap, same cheek, a little harder.
“Declan…” It comes out as a gasp this time.
He pulls the duvet down, still gripping my throat, and I’m not fast enough to stop him. The next slap lands on my breast, over my nipple, harder still. I cry out, then hate that it didn’t hurt the way it should have. “This is a fun game,” he murmurs. “How far do you want to push?”
How far will he go?
The worse question is why my body is answering that with heat instead of alarm.
I should be angry, but I’m not. I’m wet, ashamed of it, and his eyes say he can tell.
“I’ll… do it,” I cry. “I’ll… show you.”
“I know you will.”
He releases me and straightens, waiting expectantly. Letting me peel back the duvet. Revealing myself to him, his gaze on my body, not my face. I spread my legs, biting my lip, my cheeks flaming.
“Wider.”
They’re already wide, but I lift my knees, parting my thighs even more. My sex isn’t just revealed, it’s pouting up at him, slick with my arousal. Almost begging for his touch.
So humiliating.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, and I shiver at his words, but don’t dare close my legs.
Fuck. What is wrong with me?
“I’m going to get dressed,” he says. “Stay like that.”
“But I have to go too,” I protest. I still haven’t closed my legs. It’s like I can’t.
He ignores me, dropping the towel and pulling on his leather pants, going commando again.
“Declan, please.” Fuck, am I begging to be allowed to move? How twisted is this?
“All right, you can get up,” he says, then gives a smile and a nonchalant shrug. “I can’t help it. I just want to watch you, naked and wet for me.”
He doesn’t need to say it like that, so blatant.
I close my legs, rolling onto my side, concealing myself as best I can as I get off the bed and find my own clothes. He slaps my ass as I pass him, chuckles, then gets a clean shirt from his dresser. I turn my back to him while I pull my pants on.
“Want to wear one of mine?” he asks.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ll go home and shower.”
“Then I’ll just have to cover you in my scent again this evening.”
Marking me.
He didn’t say it, but the meaning hangs in the air.
My bra and shirt are in the living room. I gather my boots, and go to get them. He’s dressed before I am, but only just, and waits as I pull my jacket on.
“I’ll be out most of the day, but… dinner?” he asks. “Your place, or mine?”
“Um… let’s keep it open.”
“All right.” He pulls his phone from his pocket, looking expectant. I give him my number, and my phone vibrates in my jacket. He tucks his away, leans in, and kisses me. “Got you now,” he murmurs. “No escape.”
I tremble, tensing to try and hide it. Is that comfort, or fear? Fuck, with him, it’s both at once.
He holds the door for me, like a gentleman, slams it behind us, and we take the stairs to where our bikes are parked. I dawdle putting my gloves and helmet on, my hair loose, not in a braid anymore. He’s ready before me.
“I’ll miss you,” he says, taps two fingers to his helmet, and peels out.
I start my bike, sitting there while the engine throbs. Staring after him. Trying to decide.
My heart is barely beating. My stomach’s heavy. Dread and guilt sit evenly in my chest.
Then I curse, slap my visor down, kick into gear, and follow him.