Page 53 of Vengeful Devotion
“You’re right,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling my ear. “I won’t hurt you.”
“But?”
“But I am a monster.” He pulls away just enough to look me in the eye. “I’ve done things, Gemma. Things that I’m neither ashamed nor proud of. My hands are stained with blood. A lot of it. We’re alike in that way, your uncle and me. Much like him, the violence—the killing. It’s in my DNA. Something I’ll never be able to give up. But there is one difference between us.”
A shiver slithers down my spine.
“Which is?”
“He’s just a monster. But I’myourmonster. You own me, Gemma. You will always own me. I know it just like I know the stars will shine every night, whether or not I can see them. I told you. I would do anything for you, bláth fiáin.”
Six little words. Words that mean so much. They hold so much promise. But how do I know which promises are real and which are illusions?
Declan glides his hands up my arms, cupping my cheeks. His eyes hold an emotion that I don’t think I’ve seen on someone’s face. Especially not when they looked at me. The tension is almost too much. My body feels like it’s overheating. It’s overstimulating.
“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” I ask, trying to alleviate the pressure in the room. Declan stays quiet so long, I almost give up on getting an answer.
“Wildflower.”
I furrow my eyebrows. That’s not what I expected at all. But I’m relieved it isn’t something bad.
“Wildflower? Why wildflower?”
“Your eyes. At first, I thought it was just because they remind me of the fields back in Ireland. But now I know differently. Your beauty is only partly why you’re my wildflower. Wildflowers are resilient. They’re adaptable. Every year they’re mowed down and every year they bloom again. Just like you.”
The confession is a needle that pops the bubble inside of me. Desire pools in my stomach. It burns brightly. I search his face. My soul needs to be one hundred percent sure that this is the right thing. The right person. And it is when I see nothing but candor in his vibrant green eyes.
I don’t know who breaks first. One minute I’m staring at Declan, the next our lips are devouring one another. The kiss is heated and fierce. His tongue slips into my mouth, dueling against mine. Declan’s hands move to my thighs. Rubbing them back and forth. The friction feels like sparks, so close to igniting a blazing fire, yet so far away.
Something feels different this time. With every stroke of his tongue, every squeeze of his hand, I feel different. The hint of fear that’s accompanied his touch before is gone. Dissolved like it was nothing more than a piece of notebook paper that fell into the ocean. Declan tore it all apart. Now, all I feel when he touches me is the urge to beg for more.
Without pulling away from him, I glide my hands down his arms. My fingers trailing over his defined muscles slowly enough for me to feel everything and allowing me to commit every inch to memory. Taking his hands in mine, I just barely push them beneath the hem of my old tee shirt.
Declan pulls his mouth away. Panting, he puts his forehead against mine.
“Why are you stopping?”
Feelings of rejection start to crawl up my spine. After everything he’s said, does he still not want me?
“I need you to be sure, Wildflower. I need to know that you’re certain.”
My heart actually aches from the sweetness of his words. This feeling is one I could get used to.
“I am.”
He burrows his fingers into the skin of my thigh. Declan gives me no warning before he lifts me up. He spins us around, placing my back gently on the bed. Pushing my jeans off me, he exposes my lacy panties.
Declan’s throat bobs as he swallows. He traces his hands over my center. His touch is soft despite the carnal hunger in his eyes.
“You’re in charge here, Gemma. If you want to stop, just say so.”
I nod, the mood too overwhelming for me to speak. The feel of his hands. The caress of his words. It puts me in a dreamlike state. A delirium created entirely byhim.
Declan trails his thumb over my clit. The burst of pleasure unlike anything I’ve felt before. My hips rock against his hand, desperate to find more. More pleasure. More Declan. I feel my pale skin flush as excitement warms my body.
He presses kisses to my inner thigh, alternating with every peck until he reaches the apex of my thighs. With his eyes on mine, he peels my panties off. Pressing the scrap of lace to his face, he closes his eyes and inhales a deep breath. Declan groans. The rumbling covering the sound of his exhale. His hot breath skates over my skin. Suddenly, I’m keenly aware of how bare I am. From where Declan sits on his knees before me, he can see all of me. The whispers of those ugly nights trickle in.
Whore.
