Chapter Thirty Three

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I haven't stopped thinking about what Declan did to me in his bedroom a few nights ago. The feeling of his fingers deep inside me whilst he stroked my cock lives in my head rent free. God, his demanding voice.

At this point I believe I'd let him do literally anything to me.

I've never come so hard in my life. I've never felt that euphoric before.

All my one-night stands with throwaway dates have been lazy, for your own pleasure, not your partner. I'm guilty as charged but I know Declan has me in the palm of his hand and I'm not even ashamed to admit it.

Declan works his way around my body. He doesn't rush, he doesn't beg for his turn.

He gets off on the idea of pleasuring me until I have nothing left to give.

We don't owe each other orgasms. He physically brought me to my limit until I had to tap out and I know he would have been there all night if that's what it took. He loves it just as much as I do. I felt his cock pressed up against my ass through the fabric of his trousers.

After I was covered in my own sweat, exhausted. I reached for his trousers but Declan was having none of it. Instead he collected me in his arms, took me to the shower and got me ready for bed.

I had wonderful dreams that night. Wonderful, wonderfu–

My hand that is pouring the milk into a cappuccino floods over my skin and I yelp at the boiling sensation. "Fuck, fuck," I hiss before running over to the sink. Aris is right beside me, taking my wrist in his hand to look at the damage.

"This is the third time this week," Aris shakes his head. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Heat invades my cheeks. "Yeah," I nod. "Sorry. Got a lot on my mind."

The cold water coats my burning skin and the sensation of the coolness allows me to take a slow breath. "Sorry? You don't need to apologise to me. I just want to make sure that you're okay, you keep daydreaming."

About Declan and his magical hands that bring me to orgasm after orgasm.

Now I'm smiling again. "Who is it?" Aris demands.

I sigh and glance at him, the freckles on his nose more prominent than the last time I saw him. "Declan," I admit.

His eyebrows wiggle suggestively. "Oh yeah?" he smiles. "You had a good night?"

"Like three days ago," I snort to myself and get back to making the cappuccinos without burning myself this time.

"That man is obsessed with you," Aris nods as he leans on the counter. "I think he wanted to kill me when he came in that day."

My entire body goes up in flames. "Yeah..." I trail off. "He's a little possessive but not in a bad way."

Aris holds up his hands in defence. "I'm not one to judge," he says with a small smile. "You're happy and it's good to see you happy."

Praying For A Miracle (mxm)On viuen les histories. Descobreix ara