"My..." She stutters, her cheeks pinking. "My pussy. Come in my pussy."
I laugh, jostling us both as she jumps at the movement, moaning. "Declan..."
"That wasn't what I meant. I am absolutely going to come in your sweet pussy, Ren. Have no doubt about that."
"Then what-? "
"Which title do you want? What do you want to be to me, little bird?"
"Please," she moans, her lashes fluttering again. "I need you to move."
"I will," I promise. "Once you tell me what you want to be..."
"Yours." She swallows, looking at me for more explanation. "I want to be yours."
"My what?" I prompt, smirking at the look of pain on her face.
She wants me to fuck her so bad, and I want to. But I also don't want to give up the moment, the all-consuming feeling of being wrapped inside of her.
"Your whore. Your wife. Your toy. All of it. I just want to be yours."
Her words are like a beautiful promise. So, then a collarora ring. I wonder if I really have to choose.
"Youaremine." I tell her before kissing her softly, deeply. She's so hungry for me that she sucks in shuddering breaths as I do, squeezing my cock with her warm walls to try and spur me into action. Impatient little thing.
I'll have to work on that some other time.
sixteen
Soren
Theicononthecomputer is still spinning when I pull my dress hastily over my head. It feels undignified, slipping it back on in the middle of his massive apartment after begging him to fuck me.
And yet, I also feel a sense of pride. That's the first time we've fucked that hasn't been carnal and raw. That's not to say it was any less amazing, but it proved that whatever toxic chemistry exists between us, it isn't limited to pent-up passion and violent fucking. If it's possible, what we just did was more powerful.
Declan slips into his boxers with ease and comes around to join me, sighing in frustration at the stupid wheel icon. I watch him sink onto the couch and begin tapping random keys, his frustration pulling mine out of me... along with guilt.
My best friend is missing, and I'm here fucking a man who refuses to give me a title. But thenthatthought makes me feel guilty, too, because my best friend is missing and I'm worried about whether the man who stands the best chance of finding her wants me to be his girlfriend.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Declan lets out a sigh that sounds more like a hiss, and I look up to see him with his fist curled against his mouth, frustration written on every inch of his gorgeous body.
"What?" I venture, afraid of the answer he could give me.
He doesn't answer immediately, appraising me like he's trying to decide what to tell me.
"What?" I repeat, trying to tamp down the anxiety.
"She's gone."
It takes a minute for the meaning of the word to come to mind.
Gone.
Like my baby.
Like my piece-of-shit husband.