Текст книги "Push"

Автор книги: Olivia R. Keane

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Chapter Twelve

Charlie didn’t regret her decision to visit Emerson. He helped her clear her mind, and think more clearly. She knew she needed to confront the pain of the past before she could ever fully be Declan’s. She missed him like crazy, and she wasn’t sleeping well despite her brother’s hospitality. After a few nights of sleeping in Declan’s bed, she’d grown accustomed to sleeping next to him. A dull ache settled in her bones. Charlie’s body physically complained about his absence. I need to see him.

Declan gifted her with a key to his house when they had arrived there Sunday evening. Charlie had forgotten about it because he hadn’t made a big deal about it. But as she sat in her car, fiddling with the key, missing him more than she thought was normal, Charlie wondered if she was underestimating his intent. He gave me this key for a reason. Right?

Once Declan knew she was back from visiting family, he’d texted her with instructions to meet at his place at seven tomorrow night. But, Charlie couldn’t wait. Charlie thought she’d pick up some takeout and have it waiting for him when he got home tonight. She checked the time on her phone. If I hurry, I might beat him to his house and surprise him.

At five thirty, she pulled up to Declan’s place. The presence of his car disappointed her. She rang the bell. The door finally swung open, and time stood still.

***

A woman stood before her. She was stunningly beautiful. Her long red hair fell in waves down her back. Charlie gasped when she saw her, not expecting anyone to be at Declan’s, especially not a woman as beautiful as her.

“May I help you?” the redhead spoke in a rather snippy tone.

“Um, yes. I’m not sure I have the right address. It was so dark the other night … ” Too much damn information, Charlie, zip it. “Is Declan here?”

She cocked her head at Charlie, narrowing her eyes. Jesus. Retract the claws already. Her stare traveled slowly down Charlie’s body. “Yes, Mr. Pearse is at home. Who shall I say is asking for him?”

Charlie glared at her. “Charlie.”

“Oh. You must be the new girl. You’re quite early. You’re not supposed to be here until seven.”

The woman left the door open, her heels clicking as she sauntered casually back into the house. She was wearing a barely ass cheek covering skirt and a sheer blouse. For some odd reason, a sick curiosity no doubt, Charlie followed her into the house. It looked like she had been making dinner.

“Declan’s in the shower right now. He wasn’t expecting you this early but we can always make it a three-way.”

Charlie shook her head, still too stunned to speak.

“You know you really shouldn’t leave him on his own. If he owns you, you need to be with him. I’m sure he’s given you the little speech.”

Charlie’s throat constricted, she couldn’t breathe. It was as though a thousand bees had stung her. Declan had used almost those exact words with her. She thought they sounded a bit rehearsed at the time but had chalked it up to his controlling personality.

The mystery woman looked up from the stove and parked her hand on her hip as she studied Charlie. “And you thought you were something special, huh? I’ve known Declan for a long time, and I can tell you this much – he could never be happy with a vanilla girlfriend like you. What was the phrase he used to describe you last night … Oh, yeah, sugar kink.”

Charlie wasn’t sure if the stupid label or the fact that the redhead had been with Declan the night before horrified her more. Just as Charlie was about to interrogate her about it, the woman’s blouse gaped open allowing a full view of her breast. The silver barbell embedded in her nipple flashed a glint of light in Charlie’s direction. She could clearly picture Declan’s face as he peered up at her asking if Charlie would object to getting hers pierced for him.

She had to get out of there. She didn’t belong there. She didn’t belong in his world.

She hooked the takeout bag onto her wrist and fished his key from the outer pocket of her handbag. She tossed it on the counter and turned to leave without a word.

Thankfully, the tears didn’t start until she was out the front door. And the sobbing didn’t start until she was halfway down the street.

Charlie wiped her tears away for what she hoped would be the last time because her stash of napkins from Starbucks was dangerously low. She took a deep breath and shifted the car into drive. She was thankful her mind was now numb, and she prayed it would last as long as possible.

***

It wasn’t until she pulled into her driveway that she spotted Declan. He was on the front porch chatting it up with Aaron and Owen.

“Declan, just give her some space,” Aaron shouted as Declan leaped off the front porch.

“Charlotte!” he yelled, panicky as he ran to her, but Charlie managed to lock the car doors before he could reach her. “What the fuck is going on? Why did you run?”

“Just go away, Declan.” The tears stung her cheeks as they streamed down at a faster pace. Her gaze locked on the door as Declan furiously fumbled with the handle. “Go the fuck away!”

Suddenly the grooves on the radio dial seemed infinitely more fascinating than what Declan had to say. She ran the pad of her index finger over the indentations, absentmindedly turning the volume on The Kill by Thirty Seconds to Mars up and down. Anything was better than making eye contact with Declan.

“Charlotte, please talk to me.” Declan rested his forehead against the glass of the driver’s side window. “I didn’t let her in. I didn’t even know she was there until I got out of the shower. I fucking swear I didn’t.”

“You didn’t give her a key?” Charlie’s broken voice stung her throat.

“No. Please open the door.”

She wiped quickly under her eyes, flicked the lock, and looked up at him. He immediately grabbed her, pulling her up and into him. She didn’t protest. She let him hold her until she remembered the piercings and what the redhead said.

“Get your hands off of me!” Charlie yelled, pushing past Declan, feeling his hands on her waist as he spun her around.

“Charlotte.”

“No! You may not have let her in, but she was there. She invited me to have a three-way with the two of you for Christ sakes!”

“Fuck. Charlotte, I am so sorry that you had to deal with her.” He moved closer to her, and she stepped back, putting her hand up to stop him.

“She quoted you word-for-word on some of the things you’ve said to me. What the hell is going on?” Charlie asked sternly.

Declan’s gaze flicked to Aaron and Owen. By this time, their little kerfuffle had an audience. Old Mr. Stearns was out on his stoop pretending to water plants he didn’t have.

Declan swallowed audibly. “I tend to reuse phrasing when I am training a new submissive. I stick with what works.”

Charlie shook her head. She felt everyone’s stares. She rubbed her temples. “Wow nice, Declan. So it is all just some sort of formula for you?”

Declan remained silent, which was probably for the best. Charlie felt her blood pressure boiling. She wanted to hit something. Or someone. “One of you three better volunteer or I am slapping all of you. Mr. Stearns gets a pass. Eavesdropping is not a punishable offense.”

Aaron looked at Declan, who immediately stepped forward holding his hands out to her. What the hell? I’m not a nun. I don’t carry a ruler. Charlie stepped forward and slapped him as hard as she could, yelping as her hand began to sting. She shook her hand and felt Declan grab it as she stared at his reddening cheek. God, that looks painful. Serves him right!

“Holy hell! Charlie, remind me to never cross you. You’re like your sister when she gets angry. Terrifying little hurricanes the both of you.” Aaron laughed nervously.

“Charlotte, I know this might be hard to believe, but I didn’t really mean those words in the same way when I was her Master. It was not anything close to our dynamic. Not by a long shot.”

“So, in other words, she and I aren’t on the same level. I’m just sugar kink to you. That’s what she said you called me.”

“Owen and I were talking about the kinds of books you were researching and she overheard. Not you.”

“She was with you last night?”

“No. She was at Becker’s house. Owen’s cousin. Katherine invited herself over. I barely talked to her. She said she wanted to get together so she could get some things off her chest.”

“She didn’t look like she was dressed for conversation.”

Declan looked both angry and apprehensive. “I didn’t even notice. I threw her out and rushed over here.”

Charlie crossed her arms over her chest. “Declan, I don’t know if this will work. I don’t fit in your world.”

“You’re wrong, Charlotte. I am going to leave you be for a bit, but we will talk about this.”

“Talk about what? That I am just another kink in your chain? Nah, I’m good.” Charlie moved past him and felt his hand grip her arm, spinning her back to him.

“We will talk about this,” he growled, pulling Charlie in and kissing her forcefully on the lips. Charlie heard a soft moan in her throat and tried to swallow it down. Damn stupid body. Declan pulled away, releasing her and left without looking back.

***

Charlie sat in her car in the parking lot of Ciatti’s’s waiting on her sister. She’d spent the past two days miserable and bitchy, and there was only one cure for it—Italian food. Her phone beeped that annoying tone letting her know it was a text from Declan. Somehow, even though she’d hurled it against the passenger door earlier, it managed to survive the assault. She reached quickly across the console to retrieve it from the floor.

Declan: I need to see you. Tonight.

Charlie: I can’t. I need some space.

She fiddled with the makeup mirror while she awaited his response. It didn’t take long.

Declan: Don’t run away from me.

Is he worried I will end this or just worried that I won’t give him the opportunity to explain things?

Charlie: I’m not. You have no idea what this feels like. You have no clue.

***

Mikki and Charlie devoured the Antipasto between sips of Moscato as they waited for the main course. For Charlie it was a plateful of comfort food in the form of handmade ravioli that only Ciatti’s could provide.

When Charlie took a break from noshing on the olives, prosciutto, and cheese, she asked Mikki about the wedding. “How’s the planning going? Did you decide on a cake yet?”

Aaron had been great about participating in the planning until the cake fiasco. After that, he decided to leave the rest of the decision making to Mikki. Charlie, as the maid of honor, tried to make sure her big sis stayed on task, but so far no luck on the cake selection. Of course, the cake wasn’t the only thing that stressed her out.

“I went with a vanilla clove cake with an orange marmalade filling, Grand Marnier frosting, and frosted cranberries.”

“Finally!”

“What?”

“Took you long enough. I suggested that one to you a week ago!”

Charlie eyeballed the steaming plate of pasta as the server placed it front of her. As she took her first bite, her senses overwhelmed her with the flavors of pumpkin, cinnamon, sage, and brown butter. Heaven in a pasta pillow. I can replace sex with food, can’t I?

“So, are we going to talk about Declan’s houseguest?”

“No,” Charlie quickly replied.

“You can’t be mad about girls he’s slept with before you. That’s not fair. Do you think he’s still involved with her?”

Pumpkin ravioli in brown butter sage sauce could make Charlie push Declan out of her mind, but not forever.

“I don’t think so. It’s not why I am mad.” She glared at Mikki. “Well, yes, okay, it bothers me that he’s been with her. I mean, I know it shouldn’t because neither one of us were virgins when this whole thing started.” Charlie put her fork down and picked up her wine glass. I can deal with it, but not when it’s thrown in my face. And it was.” She downed the rest of her glass before she continued. “It’s just now I have to deal with psychotic ex-girlfriends.”

“All right, so I have a question,” Mikki said. Charlie shook her head, preparing for the worst. “Is she a redhead?”

“Yes! Redheads always freak me the fuck out!”

She glanced across the table to see Mikki’s face desperately trying to hold in her hysteria. Charlie motioned for her to let it out, and the two of them broke into laughter.

***

Charlie felt Declan there before she saw him. After returning from her dinner with Mikki, she found him sitting, waiting for her on the steps of the porch.

“You shouldn’t be here. I’m still angry.” Her words traveled in soft whisper. One public scene per week was her new rule.

“I just can’t stay away. Despite everything you had to go through and despite how you may feel, I know we need to spend time together tonight.”

“I just don’t know. I don’t think I can do this any longer.”

“Charlotte, you need to give us a chance. You keep running, and I unintentionally keep giving you reasons to flee.”

Charlie stared into his eyes for a few moments. Nothing had changed. He hadn’t changed. He was still the man she wanted. He hadn’t cheated on her, and he had never made it a secret that he had been with other women before her. He truly seemed to want to work things out.

“I had planned on taking you somewhere tonight, somewhere we could have a scene.” Declan glanced at his watch. “We missed the reservation, but I still think we need to have a session. I want to play a game with you. I think it will help us get past this, and dissolve some of your reasoning for running every time you feel we get too close.”

“Okay. You can come in.”

***

Once inside, Declan spent a few minutes on the phone cancelling or rescheduling their plans while Charlie poured some wine. While he was out of decent eavesdropping range, he still managed to hold her in his gaze. Charlie also noticed he positioned himself between the front door and her. She had nowhere to run.

Her imagination conjured up all sorts of scenarios where she ran and he caught her. Charlie envisioned Declan throwing her down to punish her and have his way with her. The little scenes always ended the same: with Charlie surrendering to Declan’s will and promising to never run again. A delicious chill snaked its way down her body as she replayed different versions of the same theme.

By the time Declan was walking toward her, she was dying to take off toward the door just to see if he would be in hot pursuit. Charlie couldn’t wipe the silly smirk off her face.

“That’s a devious little grin. What are you thinking about?”

“I was wondering what you’d do if I made a run for the door.”

“Hmmm … What do you think I’d do?”

Charlie giggled nervously.

“Okay, let me rephrase that … What do you imagine me doing?”

She could feel the heat rising up her neck and onto her cheeks.

“Go ahead. Run.”

Charlie spun away from the door to throw him off. It bought her a couple yards of a head start but she was going in the wrong direction. She ran around the furniture grouping, placing the objects between them for a momentary standoff.

Her heart was knocking wildly. Her mind had somehow convinced her body that she was in some sort of danger and needed to flee. It was completely exhilarating. She faked right and then changed direction to the left, but he was onto her. His arms wrapped around Charlie as she hooked around the end of the sofa and was about to make her way toward the door.

“Gotcha.”

Charlie struggled in Declan’s arms, but he wrangled her to the sofa and managed to climb on top of her so that his knees and calves pinned her arms, and his weight held her hips in place. Charlie made one more attempt to free herself but could feel that there was no chance of escaping that position. He had her. She lay panting in defeat beneath him.

Declan sneered down at Charlie. “That’s all you got?”

She struggled against him, and he had to use his hands to keep her restrained.

“Charlotte, you’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful. It won’t buy you any sympathy from me. I’ll still punish you for running.”

Declan released his grip on her wrists but he still pinned her arms firmly between the sofa cushions and his legs. He ran his hands through his hair, smoothing back the strands that plastered his face.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? Always plotting your escape. Never really giving us a chance.”

Charlie froze. Is he role-playing or is this for real?

“I’ll take the blame for some of it. I’ve been too soft on you. But that changes right now.”

***

“Charlotte. Charlotte?”

Charlie’s brain traveled to remote locations that involved in-depth analysis. Her mind worked overtime to process what Declan requested of her. But then again she had always been like that. Her mind operated at a different speed than most people, and when she was a young girl she had trouble sleeping. She learned techniques to quiet her mind, but when she faced a decision, her analytical side went into overdrive.

She agonized over personal decisions, sometimes for days. Charlie worked through all the possible consequences of her decisions. She could make split decisions in a work environment, but when it came to her personal life, it was nearly impossible for her to decipher the best choice. Tonight was no different.

“You need to make a choice. Which will it be?”

Charlie stared at the boxes labeled “A,” “B,” and “C.” Declan’s kinky version of “Let’s Make a Deal” it seemed. He gave her three options for play to choose from tonight. He told her one she would like, one she would hate, and one she would struggle with but find pleasure in. She had to pick.

“Whatever choice you find best, Master.” Charlie thought playing the submissive card would get her out of having to decide. It didn’t work.

“That’s not going to fly tonight, my dear.” Declan chuckled. “We can sit here all night, but you are going to choose.”

Reverse psychology failed. Second-guessing him was not an option. Declan knew human nature well. Hell, he understands me as well as, if not better than I do. Charlie knew she couldn’t avoid the choice.

And the cycle of indecision continued. Charlie wanted to make a choice but felt like she couldn’t. If I follow statistics, I would get the one he wants me to have. But he would know I know that, so he would expect me not to choose that one … Which is the one I would enjoy and which is the one I would detest? Which one does he want me to pick?

Charlie became a frustrated, fidgety mess while Declan on the other hand remained perfectly calm, almost amused.

“Okay. I pick C.”

“C? Really?” His eyes darkened. “Are you certain you want to choose C”?

That one small question set Charlie’s mind spinning once more. Is that the wrong one? Is that not the one he wants me to pick? Should I change my choice? Should I hold firm with my decision?

“Yes, please, Master. I choose C.” Charlie exhaled, her pulse racing, her heart beating like a steam engine.

“Very well then, Charlotte.” Declan raked his gaze over her. Taking the box, he placed it in front of her on the coffee table where they sat. “You’ve done well tonight. All I wanted you to do was to pick a box, to put yourself aside and do what I required. All I wanted was your absolute cooperation and complete obedience and you’ve given that to me.”

“What’s in the box, Master?”

Declan smiled. “My sweet girl, it doesn’t matter what is in the box. It matters that you allowed me to be in control. Your fears have been getting the best of you, the best of us. Your questioning of your choices is getting in the way of fully submitting to me. But not tonight..”

***

Declan stared down at the flawless, creamy skin of Charlotte’s naked backside. Not a mark in sight, it was the most perfect canvas.

She’s trembling.

He liked it when she was a bit scared. It gave him something to work with. He fully admitted her vulnerability got him charged. It was a tribute to how completely she trusted him. Granted, Charlotte couldn’t move because he bound her to the bed, but she allowed him to do so with full knowledge of what he intended to do.

She belongs with me.

Declan outstretched his hand and lightly caressed her skin to soothe her. The back of his tanned hand was at least three shades darker than her back. Declan wondered if his calluses felt like sandpaper against her skin. Did they remind her that he practiced regularly with a whip? Her trembling diminished considerably with his caresses.

I love to work Charlotte’s body to a frenzy and bring it back down again. Up. Down. If I wanted, I could tease her to the brink of climax and pull back again. But that would just distract me from what I really want to do.

Declan kept one hand resting on the small of her back and he reached into his bag to retrieve the flogger. He ran his fingers through the heavy tendrils of the custom elk flogger he cradled in his hand. Declan had given her little information about what to expect. He couldn’t tell her it would just be a sensual flogging, she might get aroused at just the mere thought. Where would the fun in that be? No, he kept his plans shrouded in mystery. He wanted Charlotte to imagine that he might cause her physical pain. He needed her to submit to that idea and accept that it was his hands delivering both pleasure and pain to her body.

He draped the flogger’s tendrils on Charlotte’s bare back, relishing the shivers he elicited from her skin with the feel of the cold leather. Her nervousness was already causing her skin to perspire, an early indication of a healthy endocrine system. Declan recalled the demonstration about endorphin reaction to pain from Owen. A professional tattooist, Owen demonstrated what happened when he tattooed a rather large piece between the shoulder blades of a twenty-something female. She was covered in sweat and goose bumps; the physical manifestation of the body’s endorphin reaction to the pain.

Declan dragged the fingers of the flogger along Charlotte’s skin, the full weight caressing her spine. It served to warm the tendrils as much as it focused her attention where he wanted it. He swiped it in a lazy pattern up one side of her spine and down the other. Then from one shoulder blade diagonally to the opposite hip, across her buttocks, and up the other diagonal. He weaved one design after another, changing direction, changing pattern, but always at a slow, controlled speed. Declan had all the time in the world. The longer he performed this ritual, the more confidence she would have in his control.

He turned his wrist slowly over her buttocks so the strands slid down her inner thighs, but only a few at a time. Glistening wetness along her slit caught his eye as he was about to move to the other side. Declan gripped the handle of the flogger tighter so she wouldn’t be able to feel his hand shaking. It took a lot of willpower to keep himself from stopping to take advantage of her slickness.

A sudden wave hit Declan’s nostrils; the scent of her unmistakable arousal penetrated his senses. He froze for a moment and held his breath. He tried not to imagine himself tearing open his pants and ripping her in two with his cock. It would be so easy to do.

Not yet. Wait. Breathe.

Declan closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. For a few seconds he concentrated solely on breathing. In. And out. Deep cleansing breaths. In. Out.

Better.

He regained a sense of calm. He was in total control. Declan methodically continued to weave a path across her back, buttocks, and thighs, lifting the flogger a little more with each pass until he held most of the weight of it, and the tips were the only part in contact with Charlotte’s body. Her skin bubbled up in gooseflesh, and Declan heard her make a noise for the first time since he began. She moaned. She’s ready.

Declan lifted the flogger, and moving his wrist in a small circle, he brought the mop down on the fleshiest part of her ass with a thud. He locked his gaze on her body to catch any reaction. Charlotte froze in place. He dragged the device over the spot he’d just mildly assaulted and observed her muscles release the tension they were holding.

Good girl.

He wanted to tell her aloud how proud he was of her, but Declan wanted her to remain focused solely on the flogger. There’d be plenty of time afterward for praise.

Declan lifted the device for another swing and watched intently. The flogger was too heavy to sting, but this was her first flogging and she got so easily startled. Her panicky brain could easily convince her that his actions amounted to an assault. He needed to take it slow until she relaxed more.

The second swing was better. She tensed for a moment but then relaxed on her own. He caressed her with the mop anyway. He needed her to know that she was doing exactly what he wanted. The following two strokes showed progressive improvement. Her breathing began to normalize, and she hardly tensed at all when the strands left her body the second before the strike. Declan started a slow, steady rhythm of swings. Each blow landed adjacent to the previous blow. One heavy thud after the next with only a brief moment of silence between. He found himself falling into a hypnotic trance. Charlotte’s breathing turned so heavy at one point; it was as though she fell asleep.

After covering most of her back and thighs, Declan decided it was time to increase the intensity to warming strokes on her buttocks. He swung the flogger in a larger circle, using more of his bicep to force it around and onto her ass. The thud was only slightly louder, but the force increased, causing Charlotte’s skin to ripple as the impact traveled along the underlying tissue. Charlotte’s breathing grew shallow momentarily, then resumed the deeper rhythm. He repeated the same stroke. Again. Again. Again.

Declan lifted the flogger to gauge how warm the area was becoming. She was already a deep scarlet.

Don’t you just love fair skin? It reddens so easily.

He resisted running his palm over the warmth. He knew if he did, he would chuck the flogger and get on with fucking her. Neither one of them was ready for that yet. Instead, Declan concentrated on the other side and warmed it to the same beautiful red.

With the entire area warmed, the real flogging could begin. He spread his stance to shoulder-width and angled his body to hers, he checked the distance for a full swing. There wasn’t much science to flogging. It was much simpler than wielding a single tail whip, but still it took some bit of finesse. His wrist needed to remain stable so the ends of the flogger didn’t snap her opposite thigh. Lack of control would cause Charlotte a nasty sting and ugly red marks that looked too much like tiny blooms of acne for Declan’s liking. No, the redness needed to bloom from her beautiful canvas carefully. Flogging was an art.

Summoning the full strength of his shoulder and back muscles, Declan rounded his arm, landing the heavy tendrils hard across the center of Charlotte’s ass. Groaning, she tightened her butt cheeks for a moment. God, how adorable.

Another round swing and a heavy thud on the same spot elicited a similar response. Declan paused to check her breathing. It was shallower. He was certain she could feel the pain. He’d instructed her to tell him when she thought she was getting close to her limit. So far, not a peep. Declan checked his position for another swing. He had to consciously make himself do it. Sometimes when things seemed effortless to him, he had a tendency to fuck them up. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up. Not if he wanted Charlotte to do this again. It was something he not only wanted, but needed from Charlotte. It centered him in a way that nothing else could.

The mild whirring sound of the tendrils moved through the air. Charlotte groaned when they landed on her ass. Her hands tightened to fists in their bindings.

“Master …”

Declan paused listening. He knew Charlotte wouldn’t want to admit to nearing her limit so soon. “Two more, my Charlotte.”

Declan delivered another wicked swing, just as hard, if not harder than the previous one. He expected Charlotte to protest, but she didn’t. She took it well, allowing the tears to be the only evidence of her discomfort.

Declan had a difficult time gearing up for the last swing. His cock painfully strained against the zipper of his pants in anticipation of finally getting what it wanted. He delivered the final blow with almost as much intensity as the previous ones. He sucked in a deep breath, making himself meticulously smooth the flogger over the arm of the chair despite every bone in his body urging him to toss it.

Declan unfastened his pants. The zipper fell by itself as his rigid cock nudged its way through the opening. He shoved the pants to his thighs and approached the bed until his purple, bulbous head was seeking out her heat. Charlotte was wetter than before. The moans he heard during the warm up must have been from her arousal rather than the licks of his flogger.

It didn’t take much to slip past her slick entrance. He glided inside her until his pelvis was resting against her beautifully reddened ass. He placed both palms on Charlotte’s tender ass cheeks and she hissed in pain. This was where the real fun began for him. Something a simple as a gentle squeeze sent a fresh wave of pain to her brain, releasing more endorphins.. Sweat and gooseflesh adorned her body.

He took a couple of gentle thrusts to remind her that he was there. She was usually so responsive, clenching his cock, but right now Charlotte focused on the pain in her head. He should have known she would as introspective as she was. Declan reached up and took a fistful of her hair in his left hand as he twisted her face to the side. He delivered a hard thrust, bottoming out deep inside her channel. A mild fluttering around his length rewarded him immediately.

“That’s my greedy little one.”

He held her face with his left hand, squeezing her tender butt cheek in his right hand, and thrusting his hips into her again. The fluttering intensified with a throbbing rhythm.

“Fuck, yeah. That’s what I like. Milk my cock, baby,” Declan growled.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. He swung his hips in a solid rhythm, thrusting his cock with everything he had as he kept a firm hold on her hair. Charlotte cried out, yelping and screaming a litany of nonsense as her climax shattered free around his exploding cock.