Page 159 of Carnal Urges

Breathing hard, he commands, “Ask your master nicely to let you come, sweet girl.”

I whisper brokenly, “Please let me come on your beautiful hard cock, sir. Master—master—please—”

He shoves inside me with a grateful groan and starts to fuck me fast and deep, pulling me back into his cock with every hard thrust of his hips. It sends shock waves of pleasure through my body, starting in my pussy and spreading everywhere, fast. I’m breathing in short gasps, my face buried in the duvet and my breasts swinging. His grunts of pleasure ring in my ears.

When he starts to spank me as he’s fucking me, I climax.

Bucking and crying out, I come so hard, he curses. He reaches around and strokes my clit, making me convulse even harder around his cock. He’s buried so deep inside me, he feels every pulse and squeeze. He groans, dropping his forehead to my spine as he continues to fuck me through my orgasm.

Then he’s coming, too, bent over me, driving into me with chest-deep grunts, propped up on his elbows with his hands tangled in my hair.

Shuddering, he gasps my name.

And it’s like a dam breaks inside me. A lifetime of built-up emotion just cracks through my ribs and blows me apart.

I burst into tears.

“Angel,” he says, panting and alarmed. “Baby, why are you crying?”

I wail, “I’m crying because I love you!”

Incredibly, the man starts to laugh.

It’s a soft chuckle at first, but it quickly builds to genuine, chest-shaking laughter. Laughter that just might get him killed.

He withdraws, rolls me to my back, and settles himself between my thighs. He pushes inside me again with a low moan. Then he pulls the blindfold off my face and kisses the tip of my nose.

Gazing deep into my watering eyes, he says, “That’s the first bloody thing you’ve said that makes any sense.”

Then he kisses me and tells me he loves me, too, and I cry even harder.

FORTY-FOUR

SLOANE

When I open my eyes, it’s morning.

I’m on my side, facing the windows. The curtains are drawn, but a sliver of light peeks beneath, spreading golden sunbeams across the floor. Declan slumbers behind me, his breaths deep and slow, one arm thrown over my waist. His nose is buried in my hair.

I’m not a particularly religious person, but I do believe in miracles. I know there are so many things we cannot understand, but that have the power to move us regardless. Mysterious things. Wondrous things. Things of great beauty that speak to the soul.

Things that heal us in places that have been broken so long, we thought they were lost forever.

Lying in this warm bed in this quiet room with this beautiful man, I feel miracles all around me.

Declan stirs, stretching his legs. His arm tightens around my waist. His lips find my nape, and he gently kisses me there.

His voice thick with sleep, he says, “You camels snore something wicked.”

I start to laugh.

“It’s not funny. I barely got a wink of sleep.”

“You’ll live.”

I roll over in his arms and smile at him. He returns it, smoothing my hair from my face.

He murmurs, “Good morning.”