Page 37 of Bad Attitude
It seems he’s content, that the task is finished. Hiscum is still inside my pussy, but now the taste lingers in my mouth, and I’ve swallowed it, too. It’s in my body in more ways than one.
Is there any better way for a man to mark a woman?
“Do you always do this?” I ask on a whim.
Declan goes still. He doesn’t move at all, save for an involuntary tightening of his pec as he tenses. It draws my eyes to the defined lines of his chest, covered in his tattoos, but I pull my gaze back to his face, waiting for my answer.
“No,” he says at last, eyes steady, voice quiet.
Then why me?
The question is on my lips, but I don’t ask it. I’m not sure I want to know the answer, or if I could handle it if he tells me. He’s just admitted that one of the most intimate, submissive acts he’s forced me to perform isn’t just a first for me, it’s a first for him, too.
I don’t know what that means, but I shy away from finding out.
Either way, he’s done with this. So what’s next?
I know he’ll leave. Any moment, he’ll stand up, walk into the other room, a rustle of clothes as he dresses, then the door closing behind him.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he releases my wrists, hooks an arm over my waist, and pulls me in against him, turning me on my side. His body spoons in against my back, my ass, and he places a kiss on the side of my neck.
“Sleep,” he murmurs.
Still telling me what to do.
So why does safe feel like the right word?
Nine
Declan
Iwake up before my alarm is due to go off; a hangover from my Marine days.
Genesis didn’t comment if she clocked the tattoo on my arm last night. The same arm that’s hooked around her waist now, my hand cupping her breast as she sleeps. I don’t want to move it.
But if I don’t, my alarm will wake her.
It’s still dark outside, so maybe I’m stirring for no reason. Yet my body clock tells me I’m right.
I gently disengage my arm, rolling away from her, and check my phone on the nightstand. It’s 5:13. I sigh, turn off the alarm that was set to sound in two minutes, and carefully extricate myself.
What a shitty time to have to go and meet Mercer. Even more so when it was me that suggested it, back before I knew I’d have Genesis in my bed. Her bed. Whatever.
Dragging myself away from her is the hardestthing I’ve ever had to do. But hopefully I can return before she’s really up. Maybe even bring her some breakfast.
She’s everything I could’ve wanted, and more. Bold, brave, spirited, yet surprisingly vulnerable when we fucked. Since that fight at Franco’s, I’ve been feeling strangely protective toward her.
But now? When I’ve watched her come like it’s the first time she ever has?
That wonder in her stunning, chestnut-brown eyes, mingled with raw pleasure, raw need. The most intoxicating thing I’ve ever witnessed.
I pad through into the main room. Off to one side, there’s a bathroom with a shower, but that might wake her. Besides, I’m not ready to wash her scent from my skin. I pull on yesterday’s shirt, and my back stings mildly with the scratches she left in my skin last night.
Little hellcat.
If I get this meeting done fast, I can be back here and wake her up with round two. And round three. It’s not like we’ve anything else to do today.
Dressed and ready to go, I check in on her one last time. She still sleeps, peaceful, her raven hair spilling across the pillow.Raven. That’s what they called her, and I can see the tattoo on her shoulder blade. It’s brilliant work. I’ll have to ask her if it was the same artist.
