"But Teagan, you made it. Because you're strong and resilient—"
"Declan, I'mnot.I'm not strong, and I'm tired of trying. I'm exhausted by resilience. I don't want to do it anymore. I want rest. I want comfort; I want to be soft. I want a vacation, and I want someone to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay and that they'll take care of me."
"Well, I'm here now," he says. He drops to his knees in front of me, wrapping his arms around my legs, and rests his head against my body. "I'm sorry, Teagan."
He kisses the front of my bare thighs, sliding his hands up my legs and pushing them apart.
"Declan…"
"What's wrong?" he asks. "Iloveyou. I miss holding you and touching you; I miss the way you taste. You said you want to be soft—be my soft little kitten. You want someone to take care of you? Let me."
He spreads my pussy lips with his fingers and kisses me…slowly, deeply, and sensually. He kisses my slit the way you'd kiss the mouth of a lover, running his tongue over every inch of my slickness, tasting it and dipping his tongue inside me.
I relax a little, opening my legs more for him.
"You taste so good, sweetheart." He pushes two fingers inside of me. "If you like me better like this—on my knees—I'll happily worship you right here, just like this, every fucking day."
He dives back in, running his tongue over my clit while pumping his fingers inside me. I arch my back against that wall, giving him better access, and the increased pressure makes me cry out.
"Declan! Oh my god…"
I grip his hair in my hand and the handle on the refrigerator door with the other, rocking my hips against his tongue while waves of pleasure build, sending me closer to the edge.
I did miss his tongue. I do like him better on his knees like this. At least he's not talking—if he's not talking, he can't lie.
"Oh, fuck…" I moan. "I'm still mad at you."
"I know," he says, lifting one of my legs over his shoulder. Dark eyes look up at me, his mouth covered in my own wetness, and I bite my lip to stop myself from begging him to sink his massive cock into me. "That doesn't mean you can't come for me."
He closes his mouth around my clit, flicking it with his tongue while he pumps his fingers in and out of me. I tighten my grip on his hair and come hard, whimpering his name as my clit pulses on his expert tongue.
And he moans, slowly licking me through it—through the orgasm, through the aftershocks—until it's too much because I'm far too sensitive and squirming against his tongue.
"I'm going to get every last drop, kitten," he says, running his tongue over me and inside me again. "Hold on tight."
When he's finally finished and pulls away, I slide down the wall and sit on the floor. He moves next to me and reaches for me, attempting to wrap his arm around my shoulders and pull me into him, and I shrug him off.
"Declan, no. I…I killed people. I killed four…no, five…I killedfivepeople. I don't even care."
"Teagan…"
"You were supposed to take care of me. You were going to help me—you promised. I'd be in jail or dead by now if it wasn't for Sebastian."
"Sebastian?"
"Bone Saw? The masked asshole you called on the phone?"
"…He told you his name?"
"Yeah, he did."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I guess because he wants me to join the faceless murderer club?"
"Teagan…" His eyes harden. "Explain. Now."
I tell him about the murders, and about the deal I made to help them in exchange for them letting River and Hazel get away. And about how I can't control it anymore, and that it started with a game I played when I was in the hospital—when I'd get upset and imagine all the ways I could kill someone with only the things in the room, and it would calm me, picturing them dead and bloody.