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"Don't hide from me," he says, circling my clit with his thumb. "I want to hear you."

I come against his hand, trembling and desperate for more.

"I need to be inside you," he growls, nudging my thighs wider. "Now."

He thrusts into me hard, and I cry out. "Fuck, Declan!"

"That's it," he mutters against my neck. "Say my name again."

I wrap my legs around his waist, taking him deeper. Our bodies remember each other. I have to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming when he hooks an arm under my knee, changing the angle.

He pulls out, flipping me onto my stomach. He pushes back inside me from behind and I gasp, my mind going blank as he reaches around to touch me with one hand, gripping my hair with the other.

He fucks me hard from behind, each thrust making me gasp. I push back against him, wanting more, needing to forget everything else. Just for now. Just for this moment. He grips my hips, controlling every move as I moan into the pillow.

"Fuck, your pussy feels so good," he groans, gripping my hair tighter. "Tell me you missed this. Tell me you missed my cock."

"Yes," I gasp, unable to lie when he's hitting that spot inside me. "God, Declan, don't stop."

"Declan!" I cry out as I come, my whole body shaking. He thrusts a few more times, groaning as he fills me, then collapses on top of me, both of us breathing hard.

CHAPTER9

DECLAN

Adeath threat sits on the kitchen table—a crude drawing of a child with a bullet hole through his head. The message is clear and vicious. I want to tear it apart, burn it, erase its existence, but it's evidence. Evidence that our enemies are closer than we thought.

"What the fuck is this?" I slam my fist on the table, making the cups rattle. Finn stands across from me, arms crossed.

"We found it taped to the front door this morning. We have no clue how they got past security. They know that only family is allowed in, and no alarms tripped at all."

I pace the kitchen, rage building like a storm. "You said this place was secure."

"It is. No one got inside."

"They got close enough to leave this." I stab my finger at the vile note. "They could have walked right in and killed my son."

Finn's eyes narrow. "I'm doing my best, Declan. We can't have armed guards visible on the street without drawing the wrong kind of attention."

"I don't give a fuck about attention. I care about keeping them alive."

"Keep your voice down," Finn warns. "The kid?—"

Too late. Conor appears in the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. My rage explodes when I see him looking at the drawing. He's looking at a death threat, one meant for him.

"What's that?" he asks.

I snatch it, crumpling it into a ball. "Nothing."

Maeve enters behind him, hair still damp from her shower. She takes one look around and knows that something is wrong.

"Conor, go get dressed," she says.

"But—"

"Now."

He walks out, eyes still fixed on my hand crushing the paper. Fuck. I need to get him out of here.