Chapter Fourteen
Friday morning, I awaken a little earlier than my usual time and shut my alarm off. I’m not going to work out this morning, no matter how much I know I mentally need it.
Declan needs me more.
To be honest, I need him, too. I hold him, snuggling with him until he finally awakens a little later.
I nuzzle my face against his. He’s scruffy again, George apparently allowing his beard to grow out.
Or else George hasn’t been doing that with him, and Declan’s been letting it grow out again because he’s lacked the guidance and erred on the side of caution.
“Good morning, boy,” I say.
His arms tighten around me. “Good morning, Ma’am.”
Yeah, I missed that.
A lot.
I also miss the mornings all three of us were in bed together.
I’m almost afraid to find out how George is doing.
I roll in Declan’s arms to face him and nip his lower lip. “Freebie time,” I whisper.
Then I hang on for the ride.
He immediately rolls me onto my back, stretched out on top of me, and slants his lips over mine in a crushing kiss that has me moaning. I feel the shift as the man I call Alpha Declan steps in and takes control of my boy. He’s the polar opposite of the version of my boy who collapsed in tears in my kitchen last night. He’s similar to George in full-on Dom mode. It’s the version of Declan who goes after the jugular of opposing counsel during a contentious deposition, or who takes no shit or prisoners when trying to make a political deal.
He’s sexy as fuck, and when I give my boy a freebie, that’s usually the version of his personality that steps forward to enjoy it. Unless he’s in work mode and occupied like that, he doesn’t enjoy inhabiting that headspace for very long.
Just long enough to rock my world, leaving both of us happy and sated.
Which is what happens right now. He slides down my body and shoves my legs apart. I think he’s going to fuck me first and get me off later, but he dives between my thighs and homes in on my clit without hesitation.
Okay, then.
Alpha Declan likes to make me beg, just a little. He takes me right to the edge over and over again, easing back before I can come. This is another reason I’ve loved him with facial hair throughout the years—it feels damned good against my pussy when he’s busy between my legs.
Alpha Declan is a fucking tease and I love it. Not to the extent that I’d want him around all the time. Declan doesn’t like being him too often in private, although it’s a natural state of operation for him professionally.
Declan the boy needs his downtime to decompress and recover from his day. Alpha Declan would piss me off if he hung around in the bedroom too damn much, and would end up butting heads with me, and probably with George, too.
But I love watching Alpha Declan at work. He invariably gets me wet, because I just can’t help myself. He’s cocky and brash and unapologetically dominant.
And then he gently downshifts into everyday Declan, the one most people see in the course of a day when he’s not actively litigating something or trying to coax Assembly aides, or their lawmakers, into listening to him. Alpha Declan’s like his professional secret weapon. A mask he wears, the way I have my masks. Like the one that makes people think I’m a fully functional adult with my poop in a group.
We might end up being late to work this morning.
For the first time in forever, I really don’t care.
When Declan finally lets me come, I grab his head and grind myself against his mouth while his low, amused chuckle rumbles through me. I’ve barely caught my breath before he sits up and easily slides his cock inside me. Then he scoops his arms under my legs and hikes my ankles over his shoulders so he can lean in close and kiss me while he fucks me.
He tastes like me—it’s all over his face. I’m eagerly kissing him as he fucks one more out of me before finally releasing his stranglehold on his control and he starts pounding into me. Every driving thrusts only prolongs my own pleasure until he’s spilling and sated and his kisses turn gentle and tender as he holds me.
“Good morning, Alpha Declan,” I tease.
He smiles, but I already sense the melancholy ache behind it. “Good morning, Ma’am.”
