I’m so close. So much pleasure has built up between my legs that the next time Declan brushes his thumb over my clit, I come undone. With both of my hands covering my heated face, I pant into my palms, doing everything I can to keep quiet. Declan doesn’t stop. He keeps going and more pleasure crashes over me. He groans deep as I come on his fingers again. This time, I moan a little. I can’t help it.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I curse myself when he stops again.
This time Declan taps on the keyboard. “Do I need to remind you to be quiet?”
I shake my head.
“Answer me verbally. My mic is muted.”
“No. No. I’ll be quiet.” A cold sweat coats my body as I gather my strength to stay still and quiet.
“Good girl.”
When he says that, I'm his good girl … I’m becoming addicted to it.
His fingers trail over me again as he leans back in his chair, gently now, and he brings me so close to the edge that I almost come again within seconds. Then he backs off. He waits until my thighs have stopped trembling and starts again. He edges me … and again. The minutes stretch out. Ten minutes, or fifteen. A long damn time to be toyed with and to have release after release denied. He constantly touches me and plays with me and I can hardly breathe with how good it feels. The cool desk beneath my shoulders is my only relief. I’m losing myself to the sensation.
My eyes pop open when I hear his zipper being undone, and I wait for him to fuck me, but he just plays with me. Both thighs are trembling now. I can’t take much more.
A small moan of protest leaves me, begging him, and then he stops altogether, his touch retreating.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. Just a moment.” Declan moves the computer.
Fuck, fuck.
I’m silent as Declan picks me up as if I’m nothing, grasping onto him and wanting to plead with him but I stay silent. He bends me at the waist, his arms bracing me before he lowers me over the arm of a chair. “This is going to be quick,” he murmurs in my ear, his warm breath trailing down my shoulder, and then he thrusts into me with all his thick length. It all happens so quickly, I’m barely aware of it until he’s inside of me. Declan fucks me hard and deep, using me like the fuck toy he said I would be.
My entire body is weak by the time he comes inside of me and I’ve come yet again, at least the fourth time since he started all of this.
“Fuck, Braelynn,” he murmurs. Declan rests me on the chair, zips his pants up, and goes back to the meeting. The leather is cool beneath me and thank God it’s leather because the warmth leaks out of me and onto the chair.
Sated and weak, I clean it up and clean myself off, still attempting to calm my breathing.
When I’ve finished, Declan pats his lap. I hear, but when I raise my eyes to look at him, he’s not looking back. He’s casual, though stern, facing the monitor. He pats his lap again and taps on the keyboard, I assume to mute his mic again.
“Come here,” he orders. “Crawl if you have to.”
Another click on the keyboard.
I obey. I crawl to him, and he pats his knee. I rest my head against it while he pets my hair. His touch is soothing, possessive, yet everything I need. My heavy eyes close as Declan strokes my cheek and time passes allowing me to recover.
There’s a tink that forces my eyes open.
A pen dropped, and Declan bends down. I offer it to him, and Declan takes it, his fingers brushing against mine, but he looks deep into my eyes. “Do you need me to hold you?”
I shake my head, taken aback.
“If you did, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.” A simper plays on my lips. “Good.” A warmth I haven’t felt with him takes over as he kisses me once.
“If you need me, squeeze.” He puts my hand on his thigh. “Understood?”
“Yes.”
He sits back up and returns to the call, but his hand never stops moving over my hair and that warmth never leaves me.
Declan
She’s already seen and heard too much. Most is intentional and a setup, in case she is an informant. The information will identify her and it’s not true. But some things … like the meeting yesterday … I should not have let her hear that conversation.
My family has only dealt with that particular situation one of two ways.
A quick death or marriage. All their wives have been involved in matters they shouldn’t have. And none of them can be forced to testify. If Braelynn isn’t an informant, but she hears things she shouldn’t … there’s only one of two ways we deal with that.