Page 31

Wasteland, baby! – Hozier

Addie

T he front door to Declan’s home slams shut, and he prowls toward me with determination, blue eyes swimming with lust, and hunger, and love . The last one makes my knees wobble. I’m way ahead of him, sliding the sleeves of my sundress off my shoulders, allowing the green fabric to puddle on the floor around me.

I could never hear the three small words from him, and I would know with no uncertainty that he loves me—wholly, deeply, unconditionally.

“ Fuck, ” he says, pausing in the middle of the hallway.

He drags a hand over his face in a slow, deliberate movement, and then I’m being swept into the air and dropped onto the kitchen counter.

I land with a small squeak.

“How many of these things do you own?” he asks, voice rough like gravel on a scraped knee. His fingers play with the thin, lacy strap of the emerald green balconette bra I bought last week.

I’ve never been one to care about my undergarments, but after his response to my fancy bra—the purple lace with daisies—I found myself scrolling online and making purchases I would never have justified in the past.

He looks utterly devastated in the best of ways when he looks at me, and it only gets stronger when there’s lace involved.

“Just the two,” I respond, goosebumps breaking out along my flesh as his finger trails along the cup of the bra.

He rips his wallet out of his back pocket and slams it onto the counter. “Buy a dozen more,” he demands.

I laugh, but he doesn’t join in. Oh, he’s serious.

“I don’t need—”

“A. Dozen. More.”

His hands squeeze my waist, and his erection digs into my inner thigh, hard and solid against me. “Oh, alright.”

I cave immediately to his demands, my head growing dizzy from the way he presses into me, and the soothing nature of his thumb swiping against my abdomen.

Declan drops his head and presses a soft kiss to my shoulder, then my chest, all the way down my body until he’s kneeling on the kitchen floor and his fingers play with the band of my underwear.

He places a kiss on the inside of my thigh, right along the lace, and I shiver.

“ Declan. ” His name falls from my lips—a plea, a prayer, a promise.

In one fluid movement, he pulls my underwear to the side and sucks my clit between his teeth. The sudden pleasure strikes my core like a rogue arrow, and I fling my arms out to clutch the marbled countertops for stability.

Large palms land on each of my thighs and spread me open further. The cool air bites against my wetness pooling between my thighs, and I hiss in pleasure when Declan slides a finger inside me, curling it toward him.

He is getting so many stickers for this.

In minutes, I’m teetering on a tightrope, ready to fall into oblivion, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter as he adds another finger.

“You taste fucking delicious ,” he murmurs against my skin, pressing teasing kisses to my thighs.

“ Please,” I beg, so close to an orgasm, my muscles begin to twitch, desperate for the release.

My fingers twine into the strands of his hair and tug, guiding him back to where I want him, need him. He releases a low chuckle, but heeds my silent demand, and then I’m falling off the tightrope, plummeting into the orgasm. Stars blur my vision, but Declan continues to pump his fingers until I slump back on the counter.

He rises with a glorious, smug smile, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“You are so beautiful,” he says, reaching out to cradle my flushed cheek.

“All your compliments are going to go to my head,” I say teasingly.

“Rightfully so.”

His eyes flicker down to my breasts, rising and falling rapidly as I catch my breath, and before I can react, he lifts me off the counter, hikes me over his shoulder, and dashes to his bedroom. My legs bounce against his chest, and I fall into a fit of giggles.

“Let me go!” I demand, though it holds no menace as I continue to laugh.

His chest rumbles, and instead of releasing me, a palm lands on my ass followed by a sharp, pleasurable sting. He kicks the door open, and it bangs against the wall as he saunters over to the bed and drops me onto the mattress. I land with a bounce, and Declan stands at the edge of the bed, throat bobbing as I lift onto my elbows.

“You are a caveman,” I tease, reaching out a foot to poke his thigh.

He’s watching me with such intensity that I squirm beneath his gaze, suddenly feeling very exposed in my underwear. I’ve witnessed many of his looks—bemusement, childlike joy, hunger—but this one, overflowing with affection and admiration, this one is new.

“Declan…are you—”

“I love you.” The rest of my sentence flies away. “I have never loved anyone the way I love you. The word doesn’t feel strong enough,” he admits, swallowing thickly. “It consumes me.” He shifts o his feet while my heart is rioting in my chest, banging against my ribcage. “I’ve spent my whole life searching for this feeling…this zing , and I was so close to giving up—resigning myself to the knowledge that maybe it wasn’t meant for me, until I saw you. Truly saw you.”

I scoot back on the bed and pat the comforter for him to sit beside me. When he lands on the sheets, I crawl into his lap.

“There was a fog over my life after Alan died, and I was so desperate to put the broken pieces of my heart back together. I can’t believe I never saw you, but the day I walked into the restaurant and saved you from that awful date,” I release a faux gasp and smack his arm, “will go down as the best day of my life because it’s marks the start of the rest of my life loving you.”

“Declan,” I say softly as a tear streams down his cheek.

His ability to display and acknowledge his emotions is something I admire about him, but if he cries I’m going to cry.

He turns his head and kisses my forehead. “I don’t think I’ll ever have the words to express exactly what you and Nora mean to me, but I plan to spend the rest of forever showing you, if you’ll let me.”

I run my fingers through his disheveled hair, banishing tears with my thumb and holding him tightly.

“I know,” I finally say, and he quirks a brow. “That you love me,” I elaborate. “I can feel it every time you look at me, witness it in the way you dote on Nora. After I found out I was pregnant, I went through a funk where I thought I would never get to experience love like the movies—so utterly consuming you couldn’t live without the other person. You have made me feel all of that and more.”

“I love you.” He says the words with such conviction, it steals all the air from my lungs.

“I love you, too.” I kiss his neck, and he releases a soft sigh that morphs into a groan when I slip my hand between us and drag a palm along the impression of his dick.

His breath hitches as I slide beneath the waistband of his trousers and squeeze his shaft, slowly working my hand up and down. He meets me for a tender kiss. There’s no rush between us as he deepens the kiss, hands exploring my skin, over my shoulders, mapping the slope of my waist and the curves of my thighs.

His tongue sweeps along my lips before we break apart, and he peppers small, feather-light kisses along my cheek, down my jawbone, across my collarbone. Goosebumps spider out from each point of contact, until I’m dizzy from the feeling.

I slide out of his lap, rising off the bed and pulling him with me, and shoving his pants down his hips. He huffs a laugh and takes over, stripping his clothes. His cock juts against the hard muscles of his stomach and my throat dries as he palms himself, dragging a thumb over the head.

“This isn’t going to last long if you keep looking at me like that,” he says, voice raking along my skin.

“Like what?” My tongue darts out to lick my lips.

“Like you want to take a bite out of me.”

I bark a laugh and bound toward him, crashing my body into his and pushing him onto the bed. We’re a mess of limbs, and he reaches out to push the hair away from my face as I hover over him.

A rogue thought flashes through my mind, and before I can think logically, I lean down and bite his bicep, teeth digging into the muscle—not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave little red marks.

I stare at the marked flesh, stunned at myself, but Declan falls back onto the bed, heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets as he takes deep, calming breaths.

“I am so sorry,” I start, but one of his hands reaches out and covers my face, fingers on the top of my head and palm pressed against my lips. “What the hell?” I mumble against his skin.

“I need thirty seconds,” he grits out, heaving air into his lungs.

My eyes dart left, and his cock twitches against his stomach, so hard it has to be painful.

“Oh my god,” I say, still talking into his hand, “Were you going to…”

“Yes,” he growls, displeased with himself. His eyes crack open a moment later. “On your hands and knees, Adeline,” he commands, eyes smoldering with desire.

My mouth dries, but I slip off my panties and bra and toss them onto the floor. Declan’s gaze scorches my skin as I crawl onto the bed, and he continues to drag a hand up and down his shaft as he watches me.

He moves around to the front of the bed, pulling a condom out of the nightstand.

“I—Well…” Shit why is this so hard? “You don’t need to…”

I fall onto the bed.

I’ve never been comfortable enough with someone to have sex without a condom, but I have a hormonal implant, and I’ve been tested, so we don’t need to use one—I don’t want to use one—but verbalizing that is harder than I anticipated.

Confused blue eyes peer down from above me. “What?”

The silver wrapper glistens in his grip, and I bat it away with brutal force. “I don’t want to use one,” I say, cheeks flushing, “if you don’t. I’m on birth control.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

His hand trails along my arm as he passes me, then, when he reaches the edge of the bed, he beckons me with a single finger. I push up to my knees and tip my head back to meet his gaze. We’ve dragged this moment out, and now I’m itching for contact, to feel him inside me, to watch the pleasure written all over his face as he slides in and out of me.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he murmurs, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, “I want to look into your eyes.”

The confession is raw and full of love, and all I can do is nod as the energy shifts to something romantic—sensual. It’s exactly how the movies portray the main character losing her virginity—Declan gently helping me lie back, his knees nudging my thighs open, and his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of my head—and I laugh softly, but it converts into a low moan when Declan drags himself up and down the arousal pooling at my entrance.

He grazes my clit and I arch off the bed.

“I love you,” he murmurs as he slides inside of me in one smooth movement.

Pleasure pools in my lower stomach as he moves in show, shallow thrusts, eyes never leaving mine, even when he moves more quickly and I wrap my legs around his hips to deepen the angle.

He groans when I take his lips in a punishing kiss. There are no spoken words between us, but the air is thick with everything unspoken—emotions that need to be felt, rather than expressed.

With every thrust, the worries and fears I’ve held for my life melt away, like ice cream on hot pavement. They hold no purpose to me anymore, so I let them fall away and allow the growing pleasure to take hold. Electricity courses through my veins, lighting my skin on fire.

My orgasm builds, and Declan’s name falls from my tongue as he picks up speed and his thumb draws circles around my clit.

“That’s it,” he says when I lift my hips and match him thrust for thrust. “Come for me.”

He increases his pressure on my clit, and I explode, eyes squeezed shut as my vision blackens and the orgasm takes over. My muscles twitch as he continues, then reaches his own completion, spilling inside me with one final thrust.

The action is so erotic—so primal—it sends me right into another orgasm, pleasure twirling and swirling around me like a heavy fog on a rainy morning.

“Holy shit,” I say, flopping back onto the pillows and star-fishing my arms and legs out. They’re Jell-O. Not a chance I can move for the next few minutes while my brain regains control of my muscles and limbs.

Declan presses a kiss to my forehead. “Love you,” he says, again.

I’ll never tire of hearing the three little words, but he’s beginning to outshine me, which just cannot happen.

“Love you more ,” I throw back, slightly childish, but his lips tug up into a tiny smile.

“How much?”

I reach my arms as far as I can on either side of the bed. “This much.”

Declan lies flat on my chest, stealing the air from my lungs and lining our arms up. His hands land a few inches farther than mine, and his smile turns into a wide, smug grin. “I win.”

“Is our love a competition?”

“No.” His eyebrows perk up, “But if it was, I would totally crush you.”

“Just like you are right now,” I groan, having lost the remaining air in my lungs.

“Oh, shit, right.”

He lifts off of me, and I slip into the bathroom to clean up and put on a pair of pajamas. While Declan isn’t looking, I pull out the matching pair I bought for him and return to the room.

“Here.” I shove the clothing at him unceremoniously. The Cars themed pajamas were the only ones I could find in sizes for all three of us, but they’re fun and I wanted us to match like a family. “Welcome to our little family,” I say quietly.

He slides the pajamas over his head, and I wince. Not quite the right size. They don’t hit his ankles, and the button-down top is a bit tight, but he undoes the buttons and lets it flow freely. Actually, I think I prefer this view—an expanse of chiseled skin and tight muscles.

“How do I look?” he asks, voice thick.

“Very handsome.”

He smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed. So bright, and unguarded. Full of joy, and wonder, and hope .

It’s a smile I’ll chase for the rest of our lives.