Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

QUINN

Declan's lips pepper soft, wet kisses down the length of my neck. He reaches the crook and nips hard at the sensitive skin. "I don't think you do; is that how you address me?"

His touch has always excited me, but the way he has of demanding control sets my body on fire.

"No, Sir."

With his fingers and lips teasingly dusting over my skin, Declan rids me of my clothes, before taking off his own shirt. My eyes trail down his body, suddenly fixating more on the wounds marring his chest and stomach than I am on his physique. His scars document the rough life he's lived, the one he was so afraid of pulling me into.

"Do you remember our safe word?"

"Yes, Sir," I respond, and a look of pride spreads over his face as he climbs onto the bed and hovers over my body.

"I'd be lying if I didn't say I was worried that this will be too much for you," he shares, and there's concern growing in his eyes. The fleeting thought crosses my mind, but there's a difference between being held down against your will and voluntarily giving away full control of your body. There is a certain freedom that comes with submission, which is incomparable to anything else I have ever experienced. His fingers slip under my jaw, and his eye bore into my soul as he demands, "Promise me, you will not hesitate to use your safe word if you even remotely need me to stop."

His concern moves me to the point that I find myself choking back a sob as I whisper, "Always, Sir."

"Good girl." He places a soft kiss against my lips before climbing from me and walking to the foot of the bed.

Lifting my robe from the bench, he takes his time gathering the silk into his hands as he pulls the sash from the loops. He takes a hold of the belt between my wrists and gently pulls my hands to the footboard. Staring down at me, he slips the silk through the leather and secures the makeshift handcuffs to the iron bar with a simple hook knot.

The free end of the sash drags over my face and down my neck. He swirls the buttery fabric over my tight nipple, and I arch into the featherlight touch. It wisps over my stomach and flutters across the mound of my pussy. It's so delicate that I can barely feel it on my skin, yet I'm writhing and whimpering beneath it, feeling as though my body is ready to explode.

My skin burns with excitement as Declan slides his hand along the curve of my torso and under the back of my thigh. Hooking his fingers under my knee, he pulls it up to my hip and parts my thighs as the sash glides across my inner thigh. He slips the sash behind my knee and uses his grip on the fabric to keep me spread wide as he drags the knuckles of his free hand down my thigh.

"You're so fucking wet for me," he groans as his hand rubs over my pussy, and his fingers slide through the wetness dripping from me. He slides them over my lips, leaving a trail of arousal across them before plunging them into my mouth. He rubs them firmly over my tongue, covering it with my arousal. Now covered in saliva, he pulls them from my mouth and quickly replaces them with his tongue. He moans into my mouth as he licks the taste of my pussy from my tongue and eventually my lips. "I nearly forgot how fucking good you taste."

His saliva-covered fingers make their way to my clit and my dripping entrance. He rubs and thrusts them, causing my light whimpers toquickly turn into uncontrollable moans as he skilfully hurtles me toward the brink and holds me at the cusp.

"Please," I beg. "Please, Sir."

"Not yet." His fingers press in deep, and he slowly curls them as they firmly rub over the spot I know will do me in. Drawing my release ever closer, he kisses up my neck and presses his lips to my ear before whispering, "You're so fucking close that your tight little cunt is quivering around my fingers. You want to come so fucking badly, but you're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you? You're going to wait until I say you can."

I part my lips, wanting to answer him, but I'm unable to speak as every bit of my focus is being used to fight off my release. He stills his fingers for a second, and I manage to stammer, "Y…yes, Sir." He places a soft kiss to my forehead, silently praising me as he begins to work his fingers again. Slowly at first, but quickly working them toward a punishing pace. I cry out in pleasure as my orgasm fires through my nerves and shoots from me, spraying over the bed.

"Did I give you permission to come?" Declan smirks, tugging hard at the silk as his firm palm swats the release-covered mound of my pussy, causing me to gasp as the wetness splatters over my stomach and my bent leg is roughly hoisted closer to my shoulder.

"No, Sir," I answer, gasping for breath, both of us knowing full well that he wasn't stopping until he pulled an orgasm from me. Declan meticulously folds the silk fabric over itself until my leg is firmly secured to the silk sash being used to bind my hands to the foot of the bed.

"Now you've gone and made a mess of yourself and the bed," he taunts, climbing onto the bed with his fingers rubbing through the wetness on my stomach and thighs. When he settles between my splayed legs, his eyes roam over me and the damp sheets as he shakes his head, disappointed. He plunges his fingers into me and growls, "And do we remember what happens when we come before we're given permission?"

Fuck, I'm in trouble.