Morning sickness can suck a bag of dicks. It’s seriously the worst. Not only did it screw up Thanksgiving, but it totally killed my libido.
It’s hard to get in the mood when the tiniest thing can set off my gag reflex. Smells in particular are a serious trigger. Even thinking about them can send me running to the bathroom.
So for the past month, Operation Dominatrix has been put on hold. There were a few times Declan and I fooled around, but it never got to sex.
It’s been. . .almost two months?
God, that’s sad.
And I’m not the only one feeling its effects. Declan’s been snippy lately, even though he says everything’s fine. Maybe he’s just stressed about his rematch with Kerrigan tomorrow, I don’t know. But if he’s not sleeping, eating, or showering, he’s working out or training.
I hear a key slide in the front door as I open the oven and pull out the tray of hot, fluffy rolls. My mouth is watering just looking at them.
The door shuts a second later and I set the rolls on top of the counter to cool. When I turn around, Declan’s standing in the kitchen, looking all hot and sweaty.
“You cooked?”
I nod, opening a cabinet to grab us plates. “I hope pork chops are okay?”
Another thing morning sickness killed was my ability to stand the smell of cooking food, so I haven’t done much of it this past month. Poor Declan ate lots of take-out.
But I’ve felt great all day. Kept all my food down and everything, so I thought I’d try and make dinner. And after dinner, I think I’ll see if I can help Declan relieve a little bit of that tension. . .
“Yeah, that would be great,” he says, sounding a bit surprised.
We make our plates and carry them to the table.
Declan moans as he starts eating. “God, I’ve missed your cooking,” he says around a mouthful of food.
His enthusiasm makes me smile. “You want to take a bath with me after this?”
Rub-a-dub-dub, maybe he’ll fuck me in the tub.
His eyes drop to his plate as he shrugs. “I’m kind of tired. I’ll probably just take a shower and crash.”
My smile starts to slip, but I force it to remain plastered on my face. “Okay.”
Plan B it is.
After Declan gets out of the shower and climbs into bed, I start running water for my bath. I let the tub fill up as I walk into our room, stripping along the way. I feel Declan watching me as I toss my shirt and bra into the hamper, then peel off my yoga pants and panties.
When I turn back around, he’s not lying in bed anymore. He’s sitting up to get a better view.
I smile brightly, saying, “Goodnight,” with a little wave of my fingers.
He clears his throat, watching me walk back to the bathroom naked. “’Night.”
Leaving the bathroom door open a crack, I turn off the water and climb into the tub. I smile when I hear him toss and turn a few times, glad that I’m getting under his skin.
I sink down into the tub, resting my head against the wall as my legs fall open. My hand slips between my thighs, my fingers parting my folds to play with my clit. Little circular strokes make my eyes slide closed and my breaths come faster as the water hits my nipples, teasing them.
Even in the water, I feel myself getting wet.
I do nothing to stifle my noises.
A little moan here. Heavy breathing there.
The door opens not even a minute later, Declan’s eyes narrowing on me as he steps inside the bathroom. “What are you doing?”
He knows damn well what I’m doing. “Masturbating.”
“Why?”
I give him a blank look. “Did you seriously just ask me why?”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything, so I continue rubbing my clit. If he wants to stand there and watch me, fine. Moving my hand down, I slide a finger inside me, gasping and biting my lip in a slightly exaggerated display.
“You want to give me a hand?” I smirk and glance down at the tent rapidly growing in his boxers. “Or your cock?”
The muscle along his jaw tics, his fists clenching by his sides.
All the extra time he’s spent at the gym is really starting to show. He’s bigger. Tighter.
My clit pulses under my finger as my eyes rake over his flawless body. I’m getting close, but it’s not going to be me who makes me come.
It’s going to be him.
Sitting up, I drain the tub and then stand. His eyes dip down my body, growing hooded as they watch the water drip from me.
“Can you hand me a towel? I’m very, very wet.” I bite my lip. “Soaked, in fact.”
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
“You, hopefully. If not, my vibrator will have to suffice.”
His eyes slide shut and squeeze tight, but he doesn’t move or say anything. So I shrug and step out of the tub, dripping water onto the mat as I start to walk past him.
Declan grabs my hips, surprising me, and I put my hands on the wall in front of me to steady myself. He grinds his erection into my ass, making my breath catch.
Reaching up, he palms my breast, teasing my nipple with his finger. “You want me to fuck you?” His nose brushes my ear, his breath hot on my skin.
My pulse skyrockets at his dirty words. “Yes. Please.”
He groans when I say the magic word and shoves down his boxers. I spread my legs as he pulls my hips back, sliding the tip of his cock along my slit. It stokes the fire burning inside me, pushing my need into painful territory. My walls are clenched so tight it fucking hurts, and before I can beg him to hurry up, he slams into me.
I cry out at the sudden fullness, stretched so tight around him it’s almost uncomfortable. It’s been so long, I’d forgotten how big he is. How much it burns, and how much I love it.
But instead of fucking me, he pulls out and backs away.
What the hell?
When I turn around, he’s already got his boxers fixed and he looks. . .he looks mad. His whole body is tense and he’s standing so far away he’s practically in the hall.
Declan’s jaw clenches before he looks away. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
He’s sorry? For what?
Then it dawns on me. “Baby, you didn’t hurt me. That was a good sound, I promise.”
His eyes flick back to me like he didn’t hear me right. “You were okay with that?”
My frown only deepens. “With the hot sex? Yes. . .” What the hell am I missing?
“Well, I’m not. Not like that.” He stalks into the bedroom, leaving me confused and hurt.
Not like what?
I’m about to follow him when it hits me like a ton of bricks.
Declan tried to take me from behind, like— like—
I shake the thoughts from my head, shoving the bad memories down.
It wasn’t like that this time. The circumstances were totally different. I wasn’t scared or apprehensive like at the hotel. The way Declan did it wasn’t even the same. I wasn’t bent over, wasn’t held down.
Shit, it didn’t even occur to me until now and that’s fucking huge for me. Why can’t he see that?
I head into our room, seeing him crawl back into bed. He lies on his side, facing away from me.
Anger wells in me. “So that’s it? We’re not even gonna talk about it?”
“What’s there to talk about?” he snaps. “I fucked up, and I said I was sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry for trying to have sex with me. God, Declan, I didn’t even think twice about the position we were in. Don’t you see how huge that is?”
When he doesn’t say anything, I climb into bed and scoot behind him, kissing his shoulder.
I’m not ready to let this go. Letting it go would be tantamount to giving up, and I’ll never do that. I’ll never give up on us. “Can we try again?” I ask. “I’ll be on top.”
“Not tonight,” he says, his body still tense and unreceptive to my kisses.
I groan and lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling.
He sighs after a beat. “I’m sorry—”
“Please stop saying that. It’s like a slap in the face.”
Declan rolls over, propping his head up with his hand. “Just give it some time, like you said. I’ll get better.”
I hate his fucking tone right now. It’s making me feel worse, not better.
Rolling away from him, I lie on my side as frustrated tears burn my eyes. “That’s just it, Declan. I liked you perfectly fine the way you were.”