Page 10

DECLAN

As I navigate the winding roads back from Gram’s, my right hand rests firmly on the curve of Natalie’s thigh. My left hand clutches the steering wheel with a firm grip, turning my knuckles white against the black leather.

The air inside the car is thick with the subtle aroma of her jasmine perfume, mingling with the faint scent of pine trees from outside.

The rhythmic hum of the engine underscores my thoughts, and I glance over at her, seeing the soft glow of the dashboard lights dance across her serene face.

She’s woven into the fabric of my daily life, and the very thought of facing a day without her by my side sends an unsettling pang through my chest.

She’s humming some shitty pop song under her breath and drumming her fingers on my knee.

Her nails are short, efficient, painted a muted pink I bet she picked out thinking it would disappear.

But nothing about her disappears. She infects every surface, every sense, every synapse.

I’m so fucking happy it’s almost unrecognizable.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was coming down with something.

She doesn’t say a word for the last ten minutes of the drive.

Just stares out the window, watching the scenery flicker past. When I pull up to the building, she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at me.

Eyes all molten, lips soft. I want to say something like, “You’re home,” but the words jam up in my throat and all I can manage is, “Let’s go. ”

We take the elevator up in silence. Not the charged, about-to-explode kind of silence we have at work, but the heavy, sleepy, domestic kind you get at three in the morning with someone you trust.

She walks out ahead of me when the elevator doors open on the top floor, but I catch her wrist and haul her back, not rough but not gentle either.

She lets herself be pulled, lets me tuck her against my chest like she’s made for it.

Her hair smells like my soap. Her heart hammers against my sternum.

I scoop her up, one arm under her knees, the other bracing her back. She’s light and warm, and she yelps in surprise, arms flying around my neck. “What are you doing, you lunatic?”

"Carrying you to bed."

"You do realize I can walk, right? It's called walking on two legs, a modern wonder."

I ignore her and carry her through the entryway. She laughs, that rare unguarded laugh that always knocks the wind out of me. I set her down at the threshold of the bedroom, but my hands linger at her waist, digging into the soft flesh there just to prove to myself she’s real.

I expect her to say something snarky, but she just turns, hands still braced on my ribs, and looks at my face like she’s trying to figure me out.

She’s got no idea how much she’s rattled me. No idea that I haven’t slept a full night since the first time she rolled her eyes at me, and I wanted to slam her against a wall and never let her leave.

I can’t hold it in anymore. I slide my hands up to her cheeks, my palms all callused and rough and probably too big for her delicate face. I make her look at me.

“Listen,” I say, and my voice comes out gritty as a back alley. “I can’t wait another second.”

She blinks. “For what?”

I can feel myself flush, embarrassment boiling under the skin.

“To make you mine.” Confusion enters her gaze as I fight to find the words, to admit what I need to admit.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to wake up next to.

The only person who makes this place feel like a home.

The only person who’ll ever own my goddamn heart. ”

She just stares, lips parted. I can see the pulse racing in her throat. I press on because, if I stop now, I’ll never finish.

“Every day, I get a little crazier. You’re in my head all the goddamn time.”

She makes a little sound like she wants to speak, but I barrel right through.

“I don’t want just your body,” I tell her. “I want every goddamn part of you. The smart, stubborn, back-talking, all of it. I want you here. With me. Not just tonight, but every night. And I want the entire world to know you’re mine.”

My hands are shaking, which is the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me, but I refuse to let go of her. I frame her face in my hands, thumbs stroking along her jaw because I don’t know what else to do with the energy trying to break out of me.

She’s not saying anything, and I start to panic. Did I fuck this up? Did I come on too strong? My mouth keeps going, desperate to fill the silence.

“I know you’re independent. I know you don’t need me. But I fucking need you, Natalie.”

I swallow hard. “So, if you’re in, I need to know. Because I’m all the way in, and I can’t go back.”

Her eyes shine in the dim light. She’s trembling, but not from fear. She bites her lip, hard, and I want to do it for her, want to taste her. I can’t stand it.

I tip her chin up, bring my forehead down to hers, and breathe her in.

“Say something,” I whisper, but it comes out more like a threat than a plea.

She laughs, shaky and wild. “You’re a fucking idiot,” she says. “I love you, too.”

I am a goddamn idiot. I should’ve started with those three words. “I love you more than life itself,” I mutter as she grabs my shirt and fists it tight, dragging me down into a kiss that burns every doubt out of my system.

She’s in. I can feel it all the way down to my bones.

I let myself breathe for the first time all day. And I kiss her like I’m never letting her go.

* * *

She looks right at me, tears streaming down, mouth twisted in something between a smile and a grimace. I reach to wipe her cheek and she grabs my wrist and holds it, anchoring both of us to the moment.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she whispers, voice raw and sharp as a new blade. “I thought if I said it first, you’d run.”

I’m so stunned I can’t even move. This is the part where I’m supposed to be in charge, supposed to take her apart and put her back together.

Instead, I just stand there like a fucking idiot, letting her feelings wash over me in waves.

“The only running I’ll be doing is straight to you.

” I drag her even closer. She’s crying, and I want to fix it, but she’s also laughing, which soothes me all the way to my soul.

She presses her palm to my chest, right over my heart, and I know she can feel how hard it’s pounding. Maybe she’s always known. Maybe she’s known longer than I have.

She drags me down into another kiss, and it’s so different from the others, I almost don’t recognize it. Less hunger, more reverence. Like we’re learning each other all over again, cataloguing every taste and sound and gasp. It’s enough to make my knees buckle.

She pulls back and presses her forehead to mine. We stand there, breathing the same air, not moving, not talking. Just being. I run my hands down her arms, feeling every muscle, every scar, every line of her. I want to sink into her and never come up for air.

“Kiss me,” she breathes against my lips, and I groan her name as I peel her blouse off, desperate to get my hands on her skin.

She shrugs out of her shirt, lets it fall to the floor, and stands there in a pale pink bra, lace so soft it’s practically see-through. Her nipples are hard, dark against her pale skin. I can’t stop staring.

She grins, impish. “You planning to look all night?”

“Maybe,” I say, but I’m already reaching for her, already kissing down her throat, down her collarbone, licking every inch like I can taste her feelings if I try hard enough.

She fumbles with my shirt, gets half the buttons undone before she gives up and just yanks it open, popping two off.

She runs her hands over my chest like she’s mapping it, fingers finding every edge and hollow.

It’s strange, being touched like this. Gentle.

She’s not trying to take control, but she’s also not submitting. We’re equals in this.

I cup her ass in both hands, lift her onto the bed like she’s nothing, and crawl on top of her, straddling her hips with my thighs. She bites her lip, eyes wide. I want to see her come apart, want to make her sob and shake, but I don’t want to scare her. Not tonight.

I undo her bra slowly, watching the way her eyes flutter when the straps fall. Her tits are perfect, round, and full, with dark pink areolas and hard nipples begging to be sucked. I take one in my mouth, roll my tongue around it, and she arches up with a gasp.

She’s already grinding her hips against me, trying to get friction, but I pin her down, making her wait.

“Bossy,” she whispers, but her voice is so breathless it comes out as a plea.

“Get used to being bossed for the rest of your life,” I say, moving down her body. I kiss her stomach, her hips, her inner thighs, biting and sucking until she’s shaking. I hook her panties with my thumbs and slide them down, slow enough that she whines in frustration.

Her pussy glistens from her juices while her clit peeks out like it’s desperate for attention. I lick a stripe up her slit and she cries out, bucking her hips. I take my time, savoring every taste and tremor.

She’s so wet it’s obscene, and when I slide two fingers in, she clenches around me like a fist. “Ahh,” she gasps, grabbing at the sheets. “I’m?—”

I suck her clit while I finger her, scissoring my fingers just right, and she comes so fast and hard I think she might actually pass out. Her whole body shakes, her thighs clamp around my head, but I don’t stop until she’s twitching, begging me to slow down.

When I finally let up, she’s panting with her hair stuck to her forehead and her eyes glassy and wild. I crawl up her body, lick the sweat from her neck, and kiss her jaw, her cheek, her eyelids.

“Too much?” I murmur.

She laughs, still breathless. “Not even close.”

I want to fuck her slow, want to make it last, but my hands are trembling and my cock is so hard it hurts. I line up and push in, slow, letting her feel every inch. She moans, low and guttural, and wraps her legs around my hips, locking me in place.

As I start to move, she grabs my face and stares up into my eyes. “Don’t stop,” she says. “Please.”

I don’t. I keep my eyes on hers as my hips pick up speed. I want her to see how much I want this, want her, want everything.

We move together, slow at first, then harder, chasing the same high. She whispers my name, over and over, like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered to earth. I press my forehead to hers, sweat dripping down, and fuck her until the world goes dark at the edges.

When I come, I crush her to me, every muscle straining, and empty myself inside her, shaking with the force of it.

After, we lay tangled up, her head on my chest, my hands stroking her back. She draws lazy circles on my ribs, tracing every scar.

We fall asleep like that, still wrapped around each other, city lights blazing outside the window, and for once, the world feels exactly as it should be.