I’d just closed my eyes when I feel the faint vibration of the front door closing. I tug on my earbuds, cutting off Hozier’s melodic voice, and listen to Declan walk through the apartment. He calls my name, but I don’t answer him since his footsteps are rapidly approaching my old bedroom door. It’s only a matter of seconds before he finds me curled up in the bed I used to sleep in.
Right on cue, the door flies open and Declan’s silhouette fills the doorway. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the bright light streaming in from the hallway, but when they do, I see him sagging in relief against the doorjamb.
“Oh, thank fuck,” he mutters, placing a hand over his chest. He’s bent over like he’s out of breath.
For a second, I feel bad for making him worry. I knew he’d panic when he came home and didn’t find me in his bed, but after our fight this afternoon, I couldn’t bring myself to crawl into it tonight. I didn’t want to be blanketed between Declan’s disgust and shame, so I sought solace in my own, judgment-free bed.
He doesn’t even ask why I’m in here, instead of his room. He simply asks, “Is this where you’re sleeping?”
I nod, not offering an explanation or apology.
“Then it’s where I’m sleeping.” He leaves the door open and crosses the small room, pausing next to the empty side of the bed. My back is to him, but I hear the rustle of clothes as he undresses.
A hint of his body wash still lingers on his skin as he climbs in behind me, and I breathe him in, letting the familiar scent comfort me. His hand slips under my nightshirt, warm and rough with calluses, as he pushes the fabric up my hips and back, so we’re skin-to-skin. Molding his chest to my back, he settles his arm around my stomach, holding me close.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the whole apartment are our breathing and the occasional chorus drifting up from my earbuds.
Declan’s nose grazes my ear before he buries his face in the crook of my neck. “Say it.”
My eyes squeeze shut at the desperate way he murmurs it. Like he’s afraid I won’t.
I run my fingertips along the arm that’s draped over my middle—hard with muscle and yet holding me so reverently, so protectively—and tell him, “I love you. Even when I hate you, I still love you.”
He exhales the pent-up breath he’s been holding and kisses a path across my neck. “Thank you for not pushing me away. For letting me hold you.”
The room blurs and I quickly wipe my tears away.
“I don’t know what I’d do if you denied me this right now. I need it. I need you.” His hold on me tightens as he breathes into my hair, “I’m sorry I’m such an asshole.”
I roll over to face him, resting my head on his outstretched arm. As far as pillows go, it’s not terribly comfortable, but I don’t care. My need to be close to him overrides everything else.
My eyes search his face and settle on the bruise forming on his jaw. Reaching up, I gingerly touch the area around it. “Does it hurt?”
He shrugs as best as he can and kisses my fingertips. “I deserved it.”
“I know.” My hand falls to his chest and we stare at each other for several quiet seconds.
His free hand moves from my hip to my back, tracing little designs along my skin. “I really am sorry,” he says, touching his forehead to mine. “I was so fucking out of line. I would’ve punched myself if you hadn’t.”
The tiny smile he evokes from me has him grinning like he just won the lottery—full dimples and all. That kind of smile from Declan is contagious.
I laugh and bite my lip, grinning wide. But just as quickly as the smile arrived, it’s gone, because yeah, he really was out of line.
Maybe it’s my fault, though. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him. I just wanted him to know that it wasn’t a big deal, that I can handle anything he gives me because I trust him completely. Only instead of making everything better, I made it worse.
I sigh. “Declan. . .”
His smile fades almost as quickly as mine. “No,” he groans, pulling me against him and burying his face in my hair. His voice comes out muffled as he says, “Go back to being happy and smiling. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”
He sounds like a pouty child, not a six-foot-three fighter.
I smile into his chest. “I’m not mad at you. Not anymore, at least. I was actually going to apologize.”
Pulling away, he looks down at me like I’m crazy. “For what? I was the jackass today, not you.”
“Yeah, but. . .” I look back at his chest, because this is awkward enough as it is. I don’t want the added embarrassment of having to look him in the face as I try to address the elephant in the room. “I shouldn’t have told you that what we did was. . .”
Spelling it out would probably traumatize him even more, so I’ll leave it at that. Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know what I’m trying to say.
I clear my throat, afraid to look up at him since he’s gone unnaturally still, and continue. “That was unfair of me, and I totally get why you were grossed out—”
“Stop.” His tone is cold as ice. I glance up in time to see his jaw clench. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was a complete fucking asshole, and you’re right, I’m the only one who has a problem with this, and I wish to God I didn’t.”
I knew he had problems with it—obviously—but up until now he’s at least tried to pretend like everything’s fine, if only for my sake. Hearing him admit that it’s not is scarier than I would’ve thought.
My stomach’s getting tangled up in knots as I try to understand what this means for us.
Shit, what if he never gets past this?
Before I can get too carried away, he tilts my chin up until I’m looking at him. “Don’t get me wrong, Kitten, I’m so fucking honored that you trust me enough to try all this stuff, but—”
His brows pucker, his green eyes searching mine.
My heart thuds as my mind automatically goes to the worst possible things he could say.
But it’s too much.
But this isn’t worth it.
But I need a break.
The tension is killing me. I huff out a frustrated breath and roll onto my back, glaring up at the ceiling. “Goddamn it, Declan, stop worrying about my feelings and just be honest with me.”
He sighs. “Now that I know everything, I can’t un-know it. It’s always in the back of my mind. Jesus Christ, I don’t even know where to touch you half the time. I get so wrapped up in worrying about what’s acceptable and what’s not that I— I fucking choke. How pathetic is that? I’ve got a beautiful girl who’s down to get naked any time I want, and I can’t turn off my brain long enough to think with my dick and just enjoy it.”
“Again, you seemed to be enjoying things last night,” I mutter. Why does he keep forgetting that? Last night he handled me like he used to, all rough and demanding, and I didn’t break.
I loved it. I wanted more.
“I had no intention of fucking you last night,” Declan says. “Not when I was that worked up.”
So he’d already made up his mind? That whole “I’m gonna make you pay for that” was just an excuse to get out of it?
Hearing him say that pisses me off. “You’re not going to break me.”
“Sometimes I want to.”
My head rolls over at his quiet admission.
“I told you, when you start running your mouth, it turns me on to the point that it borders on violent. I want to bend you to my will and fuck you till you break, till you’re completely obedient.” He reaches up and cups the side of my face, his thumb stroking my cheek like I’m made of glass. The side of his mouth lifts into a lopsided smile. “But other times, when you’re not being a pain in my ass, I just want to love on you and worship every single inch of your perfect body.
“It was confusing before, but now that I know about your past? I’m scared to fucking death of even touching you. I don’t want to risk losing control. I don’t want to hurt you.” He scowls and drops his hand. “’Course I fucking did that anyway.”
Rolling back onto my side, I cuddle up against him. “There’s no wrong place to touch me, Declan. Today I offered you ass play, for fuck’s sake.” I thought that would at least get a smile out of him, but he just continues to stare at me intently.
“I don’t know how to fix this.” His eyes look large and desperate. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Declan so scared before, and that scares me, because I’m finally getting the subtext of what he’s trying to say: I don’t know if we can fix this.
My heart stops, like it refuses to take part in any future that he’s not in. I’m trying to breathe through the upheaval my stubborn heart is causing my body, but it’s next to impossible when I think about losing him.
We can fix this, I know we can. We have to.
My mind is on overdrive as I struggle to think of something to say. “Declan, this won’t even be an issue in ten years. I guarantee it. But right now, it’s still fresh and raw, and that’s why it seems so hard to move past. But we will move past it, okay? We just have to give it some time.”
Declan’s mouth flattens into a hard line and he refuses to meet my eyes. It eases the giant knot of panic in my gut about as well as lighter fluid puts out a flame.
I place my hands on his face and force him to look at me. “Tell me you know that we’ll move past this.”
“Of course I do, all right? Eventually this won’t be a big deal anymore, but right now, the last thing I need is a fucking pep talk from you about it.” He pulls his arm out from under my head and sits up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Christ, Savannah, it’s emasculating enough not being able to perform for you, but telling me to just ‘give it some time’ isn’t fucking helping.”
My mouth flops open, but I’m momentarily stumped for words. “I was just trying to—”
“I know what you were trying to do, and I don’t want you to do it.” Resting his elbows on his knees, he sighs. “You shouldn’t be the one trying to make me feel better in this scenario. It’s fucking pathetic,” he mutters, gripping the back of his neck.
Climbing across the bed, I lean against his back, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Says who?”
He gives me a pointed look over his shoulder.
“I don’t think you’re pathetic, and that’s all that should matter.” I kiss his cheek and murmur into his ear, “In fact, do you want to know what I think?”
I climb off the bed and kneel on the floor in front of him. My hands run up his thighs as I tell him, “I think you’ve got the most gorgeous cock I’ve ever seen, and it’s a shame that last night was the first time I’ve gotten to taste it.”
The scowl on his face only deepens as he grabs my wrists. “Savannah, stop. C’mon.”
I yank my hands out of his grasp, growing irate. “No, I’m not going to stop.” Declan doesn’t have the final say over our sex life. I’m just as invested as he is, and if he doesn’t want to fight for it, then I will. “I’m going to put your cock in my mouth and I’m going to suck it until you come all over my tits, do you understand?”
Declan groans and falls back onto the bed. “No. No, I do not fucking understand.” Leaning up on his elbows, he looks down the length of his body at me.
I love the way it makes his abs look, all tight and mouthwatering. . .
I’m fantasizing about running my tongue over every square inch of them when he says, “What the hell are you trying to do to me?”
“Look, I’ve got this, okay? I know what your limits are now, and I promise to stay within them. The only mouthing off I do will be on your cock. Deal?”
His eyes narrow as his head tilts to the side. “I feel like this is a trick, but my dick is too hard to care.”
I roll my eyes in exasperation. “It’s not a trick. You said you’re afraid of losing control, right?”
“Yeah. . .”
“Well, what if you’re not in control? Last time we had sex, you made me take charge, only you didn’t explicitly tell me to do that. You just kind of laid there like a dead fish with a huge fucking boner.”
He flops back on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Wow, thank you. That doesn’t hurt my ego at all.”
“It shouldn’t. I just said you had a huge fucking boner.”
“You just compared my sexual prowess to a dead fish. Excuse me while I cry myself to sleep.” He tries to get up, but I hold him in place.
I have a point to make, damn it.
“Our lack of communication last time caused a lot of frustration—for both of us—and that’s why it was so bad. So what if we try again, only this time we both know from the get-go that I’m the one calling the shots?” I bite my lip, watching his cock twitch in his boxers. “I can even tie you up if you want, so you’ll really have no control.”
Declan’s fist clutches the blanket beside him. “I’m so fucking hard right now.”
I know. My eyes are glued to the thick, bulging tent in his black boxer-briefs. I can’t wait to get my mouth on it. I’m practically salivating.
I pull his boxers down, freeing his hot, heavy shaft, and give him a few lazy strokes. Declan sits up, his eyes rapt as I lean forward, until my mouth is right in front of where we both want it to be. “I’m going to put your cock in my mouth now, and you’re going to follow my directions from there. You’re going to do what I say, when I say it, or else I’ll punish you. Got it?”
He groans as my lips wrap around his velvety-soft skin. “Yes, ma’am.”