Page 39 of Declan

I shrug, not wanting to get into it right now, but slightly worried he won’t let it lie. He searches my eyes for a moment, then smiles and asks, “Have we pruned enough for one night?”

I raise my hand out of the water. The bubbles quickly start to deteriorate, and I note the level of wrinkling on my fingertips to be rather extreme. He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand toward him, placing a kiss on my fingertips before sitting up, taking me with him.

He pushes against my back, making room for him to get his legs beneath him, but then he pauses, his lips by my ear as he says, “Keep your eyes forward, Miss Munroe.”

I nod, saying nothing as I attempt not to laugh at his silliness, and the water swooshes around me as he stands, slopping water over the side.

“Is your dick wearing a necklace?” I tease, only catching the briefest of glances as he turns away from me, but I’m almost certain I saw something shiny reflecting back at me.

“Stop trying to peek,” he says sternly. “You promised.”

“No,” I respond with a giggle. “I never actually promised.”

A giant white towel appears beside me, and all I can see is his hands holding it out in front of him, the towel completely shielding me from his view. I stand, careful not to move too quickly for fear I’ll lose my balance and slip in the tub.

I step a foot over the edge, then the other, until I’m standing directly in front of the towel but not touching it, and I have to push back my urge to swipe the towel out of his hands and force him to look at me.

But then I remember how nice he has been about my own wishes, and I step into the waiting towel, smiling as that fabric closes around me, and in turn, I become cocooned in his arms.

15

A Deviant Awakening

Issa

Ithasbeenawhirlwind of a few days.

Since that night Declan crawled to me and then made me come with his fingers and mouth, we’ve spent every waking minute together.

Basically, the only room he doesn’t follow me into is the one labeled water closet, and no, that is not where you go when you want some water.

Now, he has made me come with his mouth and fingers countless times on practically every surface of our villa—in the tub, in the livingroom, on the beach. The man has no shame, and it’s starting to rub off on me.

Even now, sitting in a booth at this fancy restaurant, he’s eyeing me with that same feral look. His gaze scans down my body and focuses on my lap before moving back up and meeting my eyes, which I narrow suspiciously.

“Don’t even think about it, Declan,” I mutter under my breath.

The corner of his mouth curls up, and he leans in and whispers, “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Tell you no,” I retort.

He laughs, sitting back and resting his hand on top of my thigh as he replies, “And we both know that no doesn’t mean no. Try again.”

I close my mouth, my lips twisting as I contemplate my response. We had a conversation after the tub and our first oral encounter, where he went over some basic guidelines regarding our intimate contact. First thing he put into place was a set of safe words so my true desires wouldn’t be misconstrued, and he’d risk inadvertently doing something I didn’t want. I think he’s been pushing me to use it ever since, case in point, this very moment.

His hand glides down my leg to my knee, and then his fingers slide beneath, lifting and yanking my leg so it’s hooked over his thigh. He uses his knees to keep my leg in place, and when I attempt to use my other leg to interfere with the trajectory of his hand, he pinches me, and I yelp, my leg immediately moving away from the sting.

I turn my head toward him and open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, and he raises his brows at me, the smirk on his lips speaking volumes. My urge to put a stop to his little public canoodling plan is loud, but not nearly as loud as my desire to meet his challenge head-on. This may seem a bit out there for a virgin, but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t turn me on. It turns me on greatly.

His hand strokes up my inner thigh until his pinky brushes against my pussy, and his eyes widen. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

I give him my most innocent look and toss my hair over my shoulder, feeling incredibly proud of my decision not to wear underwear.

He moves closer and twists his upper body so the pressure of his knees pulls my legs wider. He turns his hand and firmly cups between my legs, his middle finger sliding between my pussy lips as he whispers, “My naughty, naughty girl...”

My hips push into his hand, and my breath catches in my throat as I glance around the dimly lit room, paranoid that someone may be watching. No one’s paying us any mind, but I know that won’t last between courses as the waitstaff will be back at any moment.

Of course, the chance of getting caught only makes my heart beat faster, pushing my blood through my veins and right into my clenching pussy. I want nothing more than to place myself on the table in front of him and offer myself up as his meal.

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