Page 41 of Donovan
A sharp gasp left my lips at the stretch, the pleasure that followed, the feeling of him finally being mine.
He buried his face against my neck, his hands gripping my hips as he started to move.
I was lost.
Every roll of his hips, every brush of his skin against mine, every gasped breath, every moan from my lips, it was too much and not enough all at once.
We moved together, desperate and slow, like we were trying to make up for every second we had wasted. I begged him to go fast, deeper and Declan complied.
He felt so good inside me. Perfect.
Each time Declan entered me, it felt like a piece of his soul reached out to brush mine. The next time he slid in me, I gasped, arching my back.
Declan had found my sweet spot. He flashed me a mischievous smile and for a moment, he reminded me so much of the old Declan.
Then he pounded into me, making sure he hit my prostate every single time. I gasped, my balls tightening against my body.
In a few more strokes, I finally fell apart beneath him, my body tightening around him. The room fell away from my line of sight.
I cried out his name, emptying my jazz onto his stomach and abs.
Declan pumped in and out of me a few more times, before reaching climax. He groaned, slowly pulling himself out.
Declan went to the bathroom, disposed of the condom and returned with a towel to clean us both up. With that done, he joined me again in bed, pulling me close.
I melted into him without hesitation. The room was quiet except for the soft sound of my breathing.
The sheets were a tangled mess around us, the air heavy with warmth, the lingering heat of what we’d just done still thrumming beneath my skin.
My body felt loose, satisfied, but my mind… my mind was still trying to catch up.
Declan was on his side, watching me, his gaze unreadable in the dim light. One arm was wrapped tightly around my waist, anchoring me to him.
He was still holding me. Still here. Not pulling away, not retreating behind his usual walls. That realization sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.
A slow, contented smile tugged at my lips as I reached up, threading my fingers through his dark hair, playing with the strands absently.
He let me, his eyes flickering shut for a moment, a low sound of approval rumbling in his chest.
“You good?” I murmured.
Declan exhaled, the tension I hadn’t even realized he was still carrying easing slightly. His grip on me tightened, his lips brushing lazily against my bare shoulder.
"Yeah," he muttered and I was pleased actually sounded at peace.
I turned in his arms, pressing my forehead to his, breathing him in. He smelled like us now, like sweat and sex, like something undeniably ours.
We weren’t perfect.
We were still tangled in a mess so deep I wasn’t sure we could crawl our way out of it. The uncertainty of what came next should have scared me more.
Maybe it would the next day. Maybe I’d wake up and everything would fall apart again. But right now? In this moment? He was mine. And I was his.
DECLAN
The evening air was crisp, the stars just beginning to pierce through the thinning clouds.
The world felt oddly still, as if the chaos that had shaped our past few days had finally given us a brief moment of peace. And for once, I let myself believe in it.
