He allows my hands freedom to roam over his body—an un-Declan-like thing for him to grant me, but I take it. He runs his damp lips down my neck and along my collarbone before taking his tongue and dragging it over my pert nipple. Covering the tight bud with his lips, he sucks with the heat of his mouth, and my body bows in response to the touch.
My hands fist his hair, and he moves to my other breast. His cock is raging hard against me, and his slow movements are making my * ache in wetness for him.
“I need you, Declan,” I pant in wanton heat.
He pulls back and looks down at me with eyes molten in lust. His hand ghosts down my body, my stomach, and when he reaches my *, he sighs as my muscles tremble in anticipation of what I thought I’d never have again.
“Oh, God,” I mewl when he delves his fingers into my wet folds. My hands press into his flesh, and I hang on as he begins to pump in and out of me.
I’m on fire, needing more of him, so with a strong hand, I wrap it around his wrist and hold his arm still. When I being to rock my hips and fuck his fingers to my own liking, he growls, and the erotic sound spurs my hips to buck up and fuck him even more fiercely.
“That’s my baby,” he encourages, and when my moans intensify as my body climbs, he pulls his fingers out of me and quickly pins my arms above my head.
I’m relaxed under his restraining hold. Looking up at him, this is the Declan I remember. He’s in total control—dominating me with loving affection. With his hand locking my wrists above me, he takes his other hand, fingers glistening in my arousal, and slips them into my mouth. I roll my tongue and suck the taste of my * off of him.
He then finds my clit with his wet fingers and gently strokes on the bundle at the same time he pushes his large, strong cock inside of me slowly, so slow it borders on torture. I feel every ridge of his dick until he’s buried himself deep in me.
And I’m finally home—safe in the comfort of the only man I ever want to share this with.
He holds himself still inside of me when he says, “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like this.”
“Like what?”
Pulling out of me, he thrusts back in, grunting, “Like this,” as he fills me deeply.
My body arches off the bed as he elicits carnal moans from deep in my womb, and I spread my thighs even wider for him because I need more.
Dragging his cock out of me again, he slams his hips down into me, while asking, “You feel that?” hitting my sweet spot deep inside.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Tell me,” he demands as he drives himself back inside of my body, now pumping in and out with purpose, mending us together.
My eyes falls shut as I let him take me over, giving him my body entirely for him to have and use however he wishes.
“I love you,” I release in the breaths of air we now share.
“Tell me again.”
My skin tingles in radiant pleasure, warmed in passion.
“I love you, Declan.”
I begin to lose myself, bucking my hips to meet each of his thrusts. I can feel his cock growing thicker, harder, hotter. His hold on my wrists tightens, but it only makes me feel safer.
“Open your eyes,” I hear him say, and the moment before I do, I smell it—stale cigarettes and piss.
My body locks up when my eyes open and it’s Carl looking down at me, fucking me with his disgusting dick and breathing his putrid breath all over me.
JOLTING AWAKE, MY eyes pop open to be greeted by another snow-filled night. Another bad dream possesses my subconscious. This is the third nightmare I’ve woken from tonight. Gone are the nights of exploring with Carnegie, my caterpillar friend. He’s been replaced by morphed scenes of Declan loving me and by dank basements, urine-stenched closets, and the visions of Carl jerking himself off as he watches me.
I take my time to quiet my rapid-beating heart before I lie back down. I focus on the snow that collects on the window. Some of it melts, tuning into trickling rivers that slowly make their way down the glass. I burrow down into the blankets, trying to warm myself, and when I roll over from the moonlit snow, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.
It’s after I blink a few times that I see him, and I hold my breath, wondering if I’m imagining this—imagining him.
HE SITS ON the chair a few feet from the bed I’m lying in, leaning over with his elbows propped on his knees. I know he’s really here when he lifts his head and looks at me, the moon illuminating his green eyes. My head remains resting on the pillow, and I breathe in deeply.
Why is he here?
Neither one of us moves or speaks; we simply watch each other in the dark silence. I want to move though. My body begs to crawl onto his lap, to have him dominate every one of my senses. The dream I just woke from felt so real. It’s all I want, to be in a place where we can have moments like that together. But the dream turned to a nightmare so quickly, and I know it’s because of Declan that it did.
How can I crave this man who now torments me? What is it about him that makes me want to forgive him so easily, to not even question him?
I notice the creases that line his forehead and his brows that cinch in the despair we both feel.