15. Declan

DECLAN

Bree comes back from her girls'night wearing a too-revealing bikini, and I can't keep my eyes off her. She doesn't seem to notice, though, heading for the shower, and if I hadn't just showered myself an hour ago, I'd join her.

I missed her while she was gone, and I hate myself for it. I don't know why I've been so attached to her recently. I suppose it's just the time we've been forced to spend together. I've never spent every night in my own bed with a woman, and I have to think that's the reason that something in me aches when she's not around.

Because it can't be anything else. I don't have feelings for her.

Sure, I've never felt this way before, never longed to see someone after a hard day, never craved a woman's touch the way I do hers, but this isn't real. None of this is real.

I still want out of this marriage, don't I?

She always says this place is like a prison, and in a way, this marriage is my prison. I can't go falling for the warden.

I'm about decided to go into the shower and seduce her, fuck her rough and dirty, remind myself that the hot sex is the only real benefit I get out of this marriage, when Bree comes out.

Her auburn hair looks darker because it's damp, falling in curls around her face and down her back. My breath hitches in my chest when I look at her, fresh-faced and clean. She's gorgeous. That's half the reason I feel strange about her, surely. Because she's probably the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and I'm a normal, hot-blooded male.

But it isn't lust that makes me reach out for her, tug her down onto the bed while she has a comb in her hand.

She squeaks, like a little mouse, and it makes me chuckle.

"Let me do it." I take the comb from her hand.

She frowns. "I am perfectly capable of combing my own hair."

"Shut up, I'm trying to be nice." I position her between my legs, her back to my chest.

She's only wearing a towel, and her damp skin against mine makes need clench in my lower abdomen.

"Since when are you nice?"

"Since always." I hum as I drag the comb through the ends of her hair, and then the middle.

Bree scoffs, but she doesn't move, and I smile as she settles back against me.

"How do you know to start at the ends?"

"I do have two sisters, you know?"

"I have a hard time believing that nannies didn't do the hair brushing."

"Sometimes," I say. "But there was a time when Paige wouldn't go to sleep at all unless me or Gray brushed hers out. Her curls could be difficult, and she wouldn't let the nanny touch her with a ten-foot pole."

"That's actually kind of sweet," she murmurs. "Rory would never brush out my hair."

I chuckle. "What can I say? I've got a soft spot for Paige."

"Everyone does," she agrees.

"Even you?"

"Especially me." She shifts, turning to look at me, and I take her chin in my hand and turn her face so that I can get to the baby hairs at her temple.

"Paige is easy to love."

Bree goes quiet, as if she doesn't want to continue the conversation, so I change the subject.

"Did you have fun in Vegas?"

She's still silent for a long moment but then she finally answers, "Yes."

"Me, too. I never thought of Vegas as a honeymoon spot, but it turned out all right."

"Have you ever thought about honeymoon destinations?"

I shrug. "Not really. I never thought about getting married."

"I did," she whispers, a hint of sadness in her voice, and I feel a pang of guilt.

"What did you imagine?"

"A white dress. My father walking me down the aisle."

"He doesn't seem like the type of man to do a daddy/daughter dance," I comment, and she pulls away from me, frowning.

"Why do you always have to shit on my father?"

I sigh, rubbing a hand across the back of my neck. "Look, I don't want to fight."

"Shocking. You always want to fight."

"That's not true," I argue. "You're the one who has the sharp tongue, you know?"

She twists around to look at me, smiling slyly. "Last I heard, you liked my sharp tongue."

Lust rushes through me, and I drag my lip between my teeth before grinning at her.

"I can think of how to put it to good use."

"That's what we're good at, isn't it?" There's something in her voice that isn't quite anger, isn't quite lust.

She turns, climbing into my lap, and her towel falls away, revealing her perfect, perky breasts.

I groan low in my throat as she rocks her hips against mine, the only thing separating us the thin fabric of my underwear.

I harden immediately beneath her, and I put my hands on her breasts, palming across her peaked nipples.

She lets out a long, moany breath.

I lean forward to kiss her, catching her lips with my own, sliding my tongue between them.

She licks into my mouth, hesitantly at first, and then more passionately, bracing her hands on my shoulders as she rolls her hips.

The slow friction of her wet heat is maddening even through the fabric, and I growl, biting down on her lip as I twist, putting her on her back.

Bree's legs spread immediately, and I put a hand on each of her thighs, pushing them further apart and looking down at her.

"So slick already," I murmur, moving one hand to cup her pussy, pressing my thumb against her clit.

She hitches out another moan, arching her back.

"Declan, please." She rocks her hips forward for more friction, and I chuckle, moving my thumb slowly across her bundle of nerves while she writhes beneath me.

I kiss along her neck, sucking and biting down to leave marks all across her skin. I want to mark her for good, mark her mine.

She starts to shudder as I move my thumb faster, nearly vibrating it against her, and I know she's coming when her cry cuts off into a long groan that comes deep from her chest.

"That's it, princess," I murmur. "Come for me."

"Ah, ah, ah," she grunts out, unable to make words, and she's so sexy that I'm straining against my boxers, literally aching to be inside her.

But all I can do is watch her face, her eyelids squeezed shut. The arch of her back, the lines of her stomach, the little pouch just below her bellybutton, soft and feminine and absolutely gorgeous.

She's like a lustful goddess, keening out her pleasure, and I remove my hand from her, shoving down my boxer briefs and freeing myself to the cool air.

I stand fully erect, precum dripping from the tip.

But I grit my teeth when I guide myself into her, holding myself back as she clenches around me through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

I want to make this last, want her to come around me again and again.

Usually, it's because that's a stroke to my ego, to my sexual prowess, but right now, with Bree, it's different. It's because I want to please her, want to watch her face as she lets go and submits herself to me.

Her pink lips part as she pants, rocking her hips as I stay still inside her.

I ignore her undulating hips and lean down to kiss her, slowly, deeply, pulling away to look into her eyes.

"I want you to always know who's making you come, princess," I tell her. "Eyes on me."

She mewls, nodding her head for good measure, and then I start to move. I roll my hips, fucking her in long, even strokes that make an orgasm build up achingly slowly in my abdomen and balls.

I could fuck her hard and dirty, which is what I originally planned, make us both come, but some part of me wants this to last. Some part of me wants her to just fall apart beneath me. I kiss her once more but then pull away and her lips chase mine.

"You look so beautiful like this. Bellissima."

"I'm so close, Declan," she whimpers. "I'm going to come again."

"Go ahead, baby. Come all over my cock, show me how good you feel."

Bree struggles with keeping her eyes open, but she listens, keeping her eyes on me, and it's like I could fall into those hazel pools, swim there all night as the green in her eyes grows more pronounced with lust. Her skin is hot beneath mine, our abdomens slapping together when I thrust into her.

Fuck, I'm close.

Not yet. Stay steady.

I want to ruin her, want to ruin her for any other man, want her to be mine forever, to want to be mine forever, and if I wasn't so close to the edge, that line of thinking might scare me. As it is, though, I grunt out her name, keeping my strokes as even as I can, given how close I am to orgasm.

"Oh, fuck," she curses, her voice low and raspy. "I'm coming, Declan."

I can feel that she is, her orgasm giving her a full-body reaction as she claws at my shoulders. The sting makes me moan, makes me start to move faster despite myself.

She's clenching around me like a vice, and she feels like heaven.

My orgasm is coming and nothing short of a natural disaster is going to stop it, but I keep up my slow, long strokes as she shudders all over, mumbling nonsense as she throws her head back.

I groan and kiss her deeply when I start to come, fucking her through her orgasm and mine, and when it's over and I pull out of her, I feel an odd sense of loss.

It seems that Bree does, too, because she whines and clutches at me.

I chuckle, finding it cute, but instead of lying down next to her, I slide down her body, kissing her abdomen, licking into her bellybutton, spreading her thighs with my hands.

"Again?" Her eyes widen.

"Two isn't enough." I kiss her inner thighs, biting down on the sensitive skin, and she cries out.

I wonder how she'd look with my hickeys marring her pale inner thighs, and I start to lick and suck in different spots.

Bree moans, putting her hands in my hair.

"You're teasing me," she whines, and when I look up at her, those pink lips are in a heart-shaped pout.

My heart skips a beat. I've got to bury myself in her so that I won't think about how that pout makes my breath catch in my throat, won't think about how much she affects my soul and not just my body.

Something like panic threatens to overwhelm me, so I press my face against her hot, slick sex, tasting both of us together when I lap at her clit.

Her inner thighs are already trembling.

"It's too much. I can't!" she cries.

"You can." My words come out muffled against her skin.

I slide my middle and ring finger inside of her, pumping in and out, taking my time, tasting her clit, her inner lips, her entrance.

I stimulate her everywhere I can reach, and she's nearly screaming by the time she comes again, pulsing around my fingers.

I thought by now I'd already be half-hard, but I'm not. I'm content just to pleasure her, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and loving the way her taste lingers on my tongue.

Bree pants as she looks up at me, her hazel eyes blown with lust as she tries to catch her breath.

I lie down next to her, feeling satisfied, and dare I say it? Happy.

I don't think I've ever felt this happy, this content. It's like there's nowhere else in the world I'd rather be.

"At least we're good at something," she mumbles against my chest, nuzzling against me before biting me on the right pec.

I jump, yelping. "Ouch! Okay, shark tooth."

She looks up at me, giggling. "Did you just say shark tooth?"

"Yeah, you know, like in that kid's dinosaur movie."

"It's not shark tooth, you dummy. It's sharp tooth." She lets out peals of laughter that are contagious, and I join her.

When she calms down, she snuggles tight against me, pulling the sheets and duvet over both of us.

"We are good at this," I answer, but I think she's already asleep because her breath is steady and even against my skin.

Her head is on my chest, and I'm glad she's asleep so she can't feel my heart beating too hard.

That certainly hadn't gone the way I expected it to. My plan was to fuck all of these confused feelings out, channel my anger at her father, at this whole situation. But I don't feel angry at all. It's the opposite.

I stare up at the ceiling, thinking that fear and panic are going to send a cloud of despair over me, but instead, I just feel comfortable and tired. It's nearing daylight, after all, and I have Bree next to me.

I don't think I"ve ever fallen asleep so quickly in my life.

I'm doomed.