Page 34 of Donovan
Of the way his dark eyes flickered with something raw and aching when he thought I wasn’t looking. Something I recognized. Something I knew.
Wasn’t this exactly what I wanted?
I had spent so long pretending.
Pretending that what we had, the stolen moments, the rough, desperate nights tangled in bedsheets, the shared silences that stretched too long, meant nothing.
That it was just sex. That I was just like him. That we both only ever knew one way to feel alive. The thrill of the hunt. The heat of battle. The rush of the kill.
That’s what he lived for, wasn’t it?
And I had convinced myself I did too, but now…
Now, everything was different. Now, Declan wasn’t a hunter anymore and neither was I.
Now, his body didn’t run hot with the adrenaline of the chase. It ran cold with something else entirely and he was still here. Still watching me. Still lingering.
“More?” Declan asked and for a second, I was stumped but I somehow managed a nod.
I couldn’t stop the way my pulse kicked up when he returned with another glass of water in hand.
Couldn’t stop the warmth that settled low in my stomach when he crouched beside the bed, his sharp gaze locking onto mine.
Like I was the only thing that mattered and nothing had changed. But everything had changed.The space between us was too small. The air too heavy. Everything felt exposed.
All the things I had kept locked away, the wanting, the fear, the sick ache of knowing I would never have him the way I wanted to, they were all right there, laid bare in the space between us.
And I knew he saw it.
Because his expression shifted and his breath hitched. His hands trembled just a little when he set the glass of water on the nightstand.
And then Declan made the first move this time and that thrilled me to bits.
He kissed me. It wasn’t slow, tentative or gentle. It was rough and desperate and messy. His fingers curled around my jaw, rough and unrelenting, as his mouth crashed against mine.
I made a noise, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and fisted my hands into his shirt, yanking him closer.
His body was solid against mine, his weight pressing me deeper into the mattress, and all I could think was?—
I kissed him back. Hard. Like I was making up for every second I wasted pretending this wasn’t what I wanted. Like I was making up for lost time.
His lips were hot, but his body was cold, and it sent a violent shiver down my spine. I should have pulled away.
I should have stopped this, should have laid down some ground rules, should have reminded myself that everything was different now.
But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not when he kissed me hungrily, like he needed this more than blood.
Not when his fingers dug into my skin, hard enough to bruise, like he was afraid I’d slip through his grasp.
Not when the hunger I had seen in his eyes for years finally bled into his touch, which felt raw, consuming, reckless. Then his tongue slid against mine, and a sharp sting shot through my lip.
I pulled back instinctively, my breath coming fast and ragged. I couldn’t believe I nicked myself on his fangs again.
“Dang it,” I muttered, swiping at my mouth with the back of my hand.
I barely had time to process before Declan froze, his entire body going rigid.
I studied him, my pulse hammering. His eyes, dark, wide, intense, fixed on the crimson smudge on my lip.
