CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
We never go slow, not unless he’s torturing me, driving me to the edge of my orgasm.
“You don’t need to—”
“For me. I want to savor every inch of you, cement your body, your taste, your sounds to my memory. I never want to forget.”
Oh God.
A bubble of sadness pushes from deep within me, and I reach for him. “Declan.”
He comes to me, palm on each side of my head, his mouth kissing me, gently, yes, but with so much passion I can’t breathe. Then he grips my throat and I feel the head of his cock at my entrance.
Something has shifted. The softness of his eyes has turned somewhat feral, and that’s all the warning I get.
“Think of me. When he does this, close your eyes and think of me.”
The head of his cock slides in as I let out a guttural cry. My fingernails dig into his shoulders, wanting more, but hating him for his words.
Goddamn you, I don’t want to think about it.
“Remember how thick I am, how I fill your pussy and you suck me inside.” Declan pushes in further with a purposeful thrust.
“Don’t,” I cry attempting to turn my face away.
“It’s me you crave. Me that you want. Me you will remember, Stella. Tell me,” he growls, plunging deep and hard. “Tell me your tight pussy will only think of me.”
Oh, God. I hate him. I hate him for this. But at the same time, I need his anger and punishment for what I’m doing to us. To myself.
Arching into him, I take his mouth and show him my true feelings. That no man will ever make me feel like this and when I am alone and free to remember, it will always and only ever be him.
“Tell me.”
“I promise,” I say as his face falls into my neck and his thrusts speed up.
Tears slide down my cheeks as pleasure roars through my body, my sex taking all that I can from his glorious body. With every stroke, as his thighs press against me, stimulating me further, I don’t know if I want to sob or come.
I do both.
His fingers grip my ass, one of them teasing my rear hole, and like a bolt of lightning, my orgasm explodes.
“All of you,” he growls. “You were mine first, last, and I’m going to make sure...grrrhhh.”
Make sure?
Make sure what?
“Fuck!” Declan cries, and I feel his seed blast inside me, hot and wild.
––––––––
AFTERWARDS, I LIE in Declan’s arms, my back against his chest, and search for the courage I need to tell him what comes next.
“What’s wrong?”
“Apart from the obvious, or...”
I am stalling.
“Funny girl. I felt you stiffen. Tell me what you need to say,” Declan says, shifting me so that I’m on my back and he’s leaning on his forearm, staring down at me.
I cup his gorgeous face. My hand slides down to his pecs and my fingers wander lazily. For all I know, this could be the last time we have sex. The last moments we’re together intimately, despite having a few more days.
I need to tell him.
I got the text in the vehicle on the way home and think it’s only fair he knows now.
“Mr. Marino, Tony, he—”
He shakes his head, his eyes darkening. “Not while you’re in my bed, Stella—”
“Declan, I need to tell you this.” Emotion tightens my throat. “He has instructed me to cancel my security service before our wedding day. He will have his men protect me from that point onward.”
Replacing you.
“Instructing you. Can you hear yourself?” Declan snaps.
“This is what marriage is—”
“Oh, cut the bullshit.” He climbs out of bed, and I sit up.
“Declan.”
“You still plan to marry him?” Completely naked, he props his hands on his hips, and his heavy cock hangs between his legs. “After that.” He points to the bed where we made love. “I’m not alone in what we feel, Stella. Don’t fucking lie.”
“I...” have no choice.
I stop talking because I haven’t let myself sink into the delicious, wonderful, and beautiful emotions that threaten to consume me when it comes to Declan Sloan. It’s enough to have him make me feel like a gorgeous, sexual woman.
Emotions...that would break me.
I can’t.
If I acknowledged just what I’m losing, what I’ll never have because of my father and his abhorrent decisions, then a bigger part of me will die.
I’ve kept it all locked up in a box that one day I will open and hope that Declan is still thinking of me.
The girl who got away.
That’s what he’d think, but I’m not. I’m the girl who had her life stolen from her. Who had no choice, or she would have blood on her hands.
“I’m not sure,” I whisper and look down at my hands.
“Fine. I’m going to shower and then get us dinner,” he turns away, then glances over his shoulder as his neck muscles twitch. “Don’t join me. I need a few minutes.”
I give him a tiny nod and slump back down on the pillows.
I’ve never seen him that angry.
He’s worried; I know that. God, I’m hurting everyone. Charlotte, Declan...myself.
But how can I change this?
Tony is a powerful and dangerous man who has my father by the neck over tens of hundreds of millions of dollars.
Why did he do business with a man like Marino? Dad’s choices have almost cost him his life, and yet I’m the one who pays the price. While he lives freely.
My own anger flares as Declan walks into the bathroom and then turns on the shower.
I thought we had more time.
A tear slips down my cheek.
I can’t see how I’m going to survive this. I’m terrified and feel every emotion under the sun.
More than anything, I wish I could explore what Declan and I have. Would we fall in love? Would we go on dates and walk in the park? Go to the theater or vacation together?
Who knows if we have anything in common, but there is something pulling us together on a soul level.
When he shared that his father died, and how his mother hadn’t dealt with it well, it was as if his heart reached out to mine and hugged it. There’s a familiarity that is unexplainable, like we’ve known one another for a lifetime.
That moment felt special.
I hope my gift shows him that and he can find a way to forgive me.
Being with him this past week just makes this a thousand times harder. Declan is a man I would check my phone all day long for as I waited for his call. I’d wear my best dress and wax all the things. Not because he’s insanely gorgeous—although he is—but when he looks at me, it’s as if he’s the one.
And I’m his.
Good Lord, I want to be his.
Sadly, nothing changes the burden put upon me. If I want my father to live, I must walk down the aisle on Thursday and accept Tony Marino as my husband.
Two more days.