Page 8

Chapter 8

Declan

Six Months Ago

Isabelle clings to me as the last waves of her orgasm ripple through her. I slump over her, my breath coming hard and heavy against her neck where I buried my face. Her scent floods my nose, heady and intoxicating, and I feel it seeping into my senses, lodging itself permanently in my memory. I think I’m getting addicted to it.

Addicted to her.

She already smells perfect on her own, but the scent of sex that clings to her soft, dewy skin just as tightly as she’s clinging to me makes it even better. I could stay like this until the sun comes up, letting all five of my senses feast on her, and that’s exactly what I’m hoping to do—despite the sweet ache that’s already taking hold in muscles I haven’t worked out like this in a long time.

“Wow,” she breathes as I gently pull out and collapse on the bed beside her. I run my finger up and down her stomach, starting at her navel, and feel it rising and falling quickly in time with her breathing.

I trace a slow pattern across her skin, enjoying the contrast of my calloused fingertip against her softness.

“Those sounds of yours,” I murmur, “they’re like fucking music. I told you I was gonna get you to make those sounds again and again.”

She laughs, her stomach tightening beneath my finger. “I never should’ve doubted you.” But then her eyes drift over to mine, and curiosity sparks on her face. “I thought men had a, uh… what do you call it? Refractory period?”

I chuckle at her as I climb off the bed and carefully roll off my condom to toss it in the trash can in the corner. A couple of large water bottles sit on the table nearby, so I grab one and twist it open to take a sip before I bring the bottle back to her.

“They do,” I tell her as she takes a deep sip of the water. “But if they’re very… inspired, we’ll say, it can be a lot shorter.”

She flushes, biting her lip and grinning as she lowers the water bottle from her mouth. “Does that mean I ‘inspire’ you?”

“Fuck yes, you do,” I say, my voice low and serious despite my smile.

I can’t stop my eyes from raking over her beautiful body, drinking in every perfect little detail. She’s lying on her back with her legs comfortably spread out to her sides, her head on a pillow, and her gorgeous dark hair streaming across it. I don’t know how it’s possible, but she looks both sexy and innocent at the same time. Her face is so open and expressive, and I get the sense that it probably speaks for her even when she doesn’t want it to. Her mismatched eyes catch the candlelight, creating an almost otherworldly glow.

I take the water bottle from her to steal another sip, then set it back on the end table and crawl into bed with her, hauling her up in my arms to hold her against me. My face finds its way to her neck again because I can’t get enough. I’m starving for more. It’s like no matter how much she gives me, it’s not enough. There’s still this flaming pit in my stomach howling for more.

She arches her body against mine, making a soft noise. “Are you feeling inspired again already?” she whispers, and my cock twitches between us, despite how spent it is, making both of us laugh.

“You’ll have to give me a few minutes, but I am absolutely fucking you again. You’re mine for the night, and I don’t plan on wasting it.”

“I like that plan,” she breathes, her pupils dilating slightly.

She pulls her lip between her teeth again, trapping it there like she can barely wait. I love how expressive her face is, even when she isn’t trying. I kiss her shoulder and work my way up her neck until my mouth meets hers, where I press our lips together gently.

“You can tell me more about yourself in the meantime,” I whisper, and she laughs.

“We agreed no names, nothing real, remember?”

“I know. But you can’t blame a guy for trying. You’re amazing, so I just want to know more about you,” I say and kiss my way back down her throat to her breasts, which I also pepper with kisses.

My lips keep going, wanting to touch and taste every inch of her, until they get to the small tattoo of a hummingbird tucked away on one side of her lower belly, just above the crease where her thigh meets her torso. The delicate lines of the ink stand out against her skin—blue and green, like her eyes. It can’t be coincidence. The artist matched her perfectly.

I kiss it too, then trace its outline with my tongue. “Is asking about this breaking the rules?”

Her skin prickles with goosebumps, and she swallows back a moan as she squirms beneath me.

“No, I guess not. Actually, you’re one of the few people in the world who’s seen it.”

Something about that really gets me going—but when I realize a second later that I’m not the only one who’s seen it, possessiveness pangs in my stomach.

“I got it done there for that reason,” she adds. “It’s a secret.”

“Really? Why?”

She looks away from me and shrugs. “People in my life don’t really see me as the ‘tattoo type.’”

I rest my chin on her hip, staring up at her. “Does it matter to you what people in your life see you as?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see something shift in her expression, a vulnerability that makes me want to pull her closer, to protect her from whatever expectations are weighing on her.

She turns the question over in her head for a few seconds, but I can tell from her expression what the answer is going to be. I only barely know her, but I already feel like I can read her face like a book.

Finally, she moves her eyes back to mine. “Yeah. It does.”

There’s something soft and vulnerable in her gaze, like I’m prodding at a bruise with the question. She’s not giving me the sense that she doesn’t want to talk about it, more that it’s a little difficult for her to talk about. And it’s not like she really knows me—she’s been adamant about not exchanging personal details—so I guess I don’t blame her for being a little guarded.

But this little flash of vulnerability from her only draws me in more.

I kiss the inked design again. “Even though I don’t know you well, hummingbird, I think you’re the tattoo type. Whatever that means.”

She smiles at my joke, and I swear I feel something spark between us. I can’t really put my finger on what it is, but there’s no denying it’s there. Coming to this club tonight wasn’t even on my radar until a few hours ago, and I really wrestled with if I should go at all, but now that I’m lying here and having such an amazing night with Isabelle like this, it feels like it was meant to happen.

Because when I think about it, so many things had to go exactly right for us to meet here. If my friend Finn didn’t have a date the same night, he never would’ve handed over his invite to the club to me. And if I’d had anything else to do, I definitely wouldn’t have come. But for the first time in I don’t even know how long, my schedule happened to be open.

I don’t know if Isabelle lives in the area or what she does, but she did tell me she’s never been to a sex club like this before tonight either, so I’m betting that there are just as many obstacles that could’ve stopped her from getting to Opal and Oak too.

But all the stars aligned, and here we are.

I’m not really the superstitious type, but even I have to admit that’s a lot of coincidences. Like, way too much for us meeting to be an accident. So maybe this really will be just a one-night thing, but damn, do I have a hard time accepting that. Because this girl is fucking gorgeous, no doubt, but there’s so much more to her than that. I’ve only seen it in glimpses, and I can’t really even say what “it” is, but she’s got it. She’s got me. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to just go back to normal life like none of this happened, like we never met.

Because every time I see a hummingbird from now on, I’m going to think of her. How could I not?

“So why a hummingbird?” I finally ask her quietly, and she flushes a little.

“I got it because I relate to hummingbirds. People think they’re so small and delicate, but most don’t know how strong they actually are. It takes a lot of energy and power to keep their wings flapping so many times per minute. But they never stop, never give up. I wanted a reminder of that on myself,” she says, her expression softening and her gaze drifting as she speaks. But I can’t take my eyes off her.

“It’s perfect. And it suits you,” I whisper, and she tips her head down to look down at me where my chin is still planted on her hip. She smiles at me, and my body moves on its own, bringing my mouth to hers to kiss her again. I can’t help it.

She responds immediately, running her hand across the back of my head to wind her fingers in my hair. She drags her feet up the back of my legs and wraps her legs around my waist, and my cock hardens between us as I push myself up to my hands and knees. I settle between her legs, grinding myself against her slick wetness, and she grins up at me as our kiss breaks.

“Feeling inspired now?”

I chuckle and peck a kiss on her forehead. “What can I say? I think I’ve found my muse.”