13. Chapter 12 #2
Looking down our bodies, I watch where we're joined. My thick cock is dragging out, slick and glistening with her juices, every vein straining before I drive back into her tight, soaking heat.
She's so wet I can hear it, that filthy slap of her pussy gripping me like she never wants me to leave.
"You feel so fucking good," I grit out. "Best thing I've ever felt. Mine."
"Yours," she gasps, and the word detonates something in my chest. "God, Declan, I'm close—"
I slide a hand between us, circling her clit.
"Good girl. Good fucking girl. Let go."
"Ohhhhh…"
She clenches around me, crying out, her whole body arching, and the feeling of her pulsing around my cock drags me right over the edge with her.
I start to pull out. It's habit, instinct.
But her legs lock around my waist, pulling me deeper.
"Don't," she breathes against my ear, still grinding against my cock. "Stay. I want all of it."
And that's it. That's the end of me.
I bury myself and let go, groaning her name as I spill hot and heavy inside her, deeper than I've ever been, grinding through every pulse while she trembles beneath me.
I'm claiming her. Filling her. Mine in a way I've never let myself want with anyone.
When it's over, I don't move. I can't. I just stay there, buried inside her, my forehead pressed to hers, both of us breathing hard in the dark.
Neither of us says anything.
Because we both know.
This was different.
I didn't pull out. I've never not pulled out. And from the way she's looking up at me, soft and stunned and a little terrified, she knows exactly what that means too.
I crossed a line I didn't even know I was guarding.
And with her, I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
"Hey," I murmur, brushing a damp strand of hair off her face. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Her voice is small, wondering. "It feels warm."
"Warm, huh?" I press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, enjoying the sight of her laying there, thoroughly ravaged and enjoying every moment of it. "That's me. All of me. Right where I want to be."
She laughs, breathless and a little dazed. "It feels like a lot."
"It does?" I ease back, sliding down her body slow, kissing a path between her breasts, her stomach, lower. "Let me see what I did to you."
"Declan—" she starts, but it dissolves into a soft gasp when I settle between her thighs and look.
Christ. The sight of her pussy like this… Now swollen and pink and dripping, my cum leaking out of her, white against the flush of her.
"That," I murmur, dragging my thumb through the mess and pushing it back inside her, "is the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen."
She whimpers, hips twitching. "You're feral."
"And you fucking love it." I press another kiss to her inner thigh. "Always."
I move back up the bed, shift until her back is against my chest and my arm is around her waist. I press a kiss to the back of her neck and feel her smile against my arm as we slowly drift off to sleep.
"For the record," she murmurs sleepily, "you're definitely keeping that dog."
I don't even argue.
I just hold her tighter, and let myself fall asleep wanting something, for the first time in my life, purely for me.
I wake up hard.
Which isn't surprising, considering the soft, bare ass currently nestled against my cock, and the warm weight of Josie Whitfield draped across me like she belongs here.
Which, after last night, she absolutely does.
We didn't sleep much.
After the first time, slow and deep and different in a way I'm still not ready to examine, she'd dozed off against my chest. Then I woke her up around two with my mouth between her thighs, and she returned the favor in a way that nearly stopped my heart.
And then somewhere near dawn, half-asleep and desperate, I'd rolled her under me one more time.
Three times. In one night. With the same woman.
I haven't done that since I was nineteen.
I press a kiss to the back of her neck, breathing her in, content to lie here, but then I catch sight of my phone on the nightstand.
8:42.
"Shit." My alarm. The one I set for six. The one that was supposed to get her up, dressed, and out the door before anyone noticed. "Shit, shit—"
Josie stirs. "What's wrong?"
"We overslept. You were supposed to be out of here before—"
The bedroom door bangs open.
"DEC, get up, we're gonna be late, Coach is gonna kill—OH MY GOD."
Beck freezes in the doorway, eyes going comically wide as they ricochet between me, the woman in my arms, and the very obvious naked situation under the duvet.
Josie yelps and yanks the blanket up to her chin.
And Biscuit is back on the bed. Of course he is. The fucking dog lifts his head, gives Beck a lazy tail wag, and goes right back to sleep.
"Beck." I growl, glaring across my bedroom. "Get out."
But his grin is already spreading like an oil spill.
"Well, well, well. And here I thought you were just grumpy because you weren't getting any. Turns out our captain's been getting plenty." He leans against the doorframe, settling in for the long haul. "Hey Josie. How do you take your coffee?"
"Out."
"Does Colin know? Because I feel like Colin should—"
"Beck, I will end you if you don't leave this second."
"Love the jersey, Josie!" Beck calls past me, delighted. "Very on-brand."
Josie makes a sound like a dying kettle into the duvet.
"BECK."
"Okay, okay!" He holds up his hands, backing out. "Zoey's calling, by the way. On the tablet. Hurry up before Mason answers and tells her everything. Which he will. He's a total snitch."
He steps back, leaves the door wide open as I drag a hand down my face and groan.
"I'm so sorry."
But Josie's already laughing, muffled into my chest. "Did he just compliment my jersey?"
"Ignore everything he says, thinks, or does." I press a kiss to her hair, then haul myself up and toss her the leggings off the floor. "Take my Rover. I'll get a lift with the menace. You shouldn't show up the same time I do anyway."
"Right." She slides the leggings on under my jersey, and something flickers across her face. "Still our little secret."
I hate the way that word sounds in her mouth. But there's no time, and apparently my sister is waiting. Fuck. The whole morning's already a wreck, and I haven't even taken a goddamn piss yet.
Josie grabs her bag and heads for the door, tossing me a quick, almost shy, "See you at the arena."
No kiss. Just a little wave. Like last night didn't rearrange every organ in my body.
Nope.
I catch her by the hem of the jersey and reel her right back in.
"Declan, Beck's literally right there—"
"Don't care."
I kiss her. Slow and deep, one hand cradling her face, the kind of kiss that says all the things I'm not ready to say yet. She softens against me for half a second before she remembers herself and pulls back.
"You're going to get us caught," she whispers.
"Bit late, don't you think?" I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Go. Drive safe. I'll make sure my asshole of a brother keeps his damn mouth shut."
She slips out, and by the time I make it to the kitchen, it's a full house.
Diego's slumped at the counter, wearing sunglasses indoors while nursing a green smoothie with both hands like a life raft. Mason's eating cereal at the island. Beck's perched on a stool, vibrating with the energy of a man holding the best blackmail of his life.
And on the tablet mounted to the wall, my sister's face fills the screen.
"There he is!" Zoey beams. She's standing in the kitchen of her bakery in the small town of Chilmore. "The man of the hour. What's this I hear about a little… guest… you had?"
"Don't you start."
"Told you he'd still be grumpy," Beck says, stealing Mason's cereal.
"Diego, you look embalmed." I raise a brow and pour myself a coffee. "Big night at Breakers?"
"Too much tequila. I have died and returned, mijo." Diego doesn't lift the sunglasses. "Do not speak to me until noon."
Mason snorts a laugh as Zoey laughs on the screen, and for a second it's just the four of us together again. Loud and easy, the kind of morning that makes the mansion feel like an actual home instead of a place I came to disappear into.
"Okay, but seriously," Zoey says. "Now that we're all together, I've got something I need to tell you."
The shift in her voice lands like a dropped puck.
The laughter drains out of it. The kitchen goes quiet. Even Beck stops chewing.
She's not smiling anymore. Her eyes are red around the rims, and I realize too late that she's been crying.
"Zoey?" Mason sets down his spoon. "What is it?"
She takes a breath. Looks at the three of us through the screen.
"Um." Her voice wobbles. "I just got off the phone with Mom."
My stomach drops before she finishes.
"Something's wrong."