Panic settled in when Declan woke with a start. Consuela lay in his arms, her smooth skin pressed against his. Her leg around his hip, one hand splayed on his chest, the other gliding up and down his mess of a back. He shuddered under her touch and locked gazes with the gorgeous creature before him.
He saw nothing but desire staring back. He choked out, “You saw?”
“Told you, nothing to dissuade me,” she answered, her lips curling into a smile. “You’re still gorgeous, strong, mine.”
“And you’re beautiful perfection, Consuela. You deserve someone who hasn’t been shattered.”
She shook her head, capturing his face in her hands. “You’ve rebuilt yourself. Your outlook has shifted. And even if my outward appearance shows beauty, the inside has scars as deep as yours. Trust me, Declan, I’ve been ripped apart and rebuilt. Maybe not as physically, but I have my own long history of bad mistakes.”
“Don’t want to think about mistakes. Want you.” He rolled on top of her and pushed into her. Her legs wound around his hips.
“Declan, sooner or later we should talk.”
“Later.” His mouth crashed over hers and he pumped deeper. Goddess, he could lose himself in her, forget his deepest, darkest regrets.
She clutched him to her, rocking with his frantic rhythm, her cries pushing him harder. She pulled his head to her throat and tears burned his eyes as his fangs pierced her skin.
After losing Moira, he never believed he would find that deep connection again. He needed Consuela in his life, felt her essence in his soul. She brought joy back into his world.
Consuela came around him as he raked his nails down his chest, blood seeping from his ruined skin to her perfect flesh as he found release. Rolling to the side, he rubbed the crimson liquid from his chest, smearing it across her silky curves.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
Her eyes fluttered open as she rolled to him, pressing tight. “What do I feel?”
He shook his head. He’d been bottling his emotions, trying to shut down the dark doubts that lived in his head. He’d been broken many times over the years, sank below the bottom of the barrel, he was afraid to learn she didn’t need him the same way.
“Open yourself to me, Declan. Feel what I’m feeling,” she whispered. “I have no pity for you. Only admiration for overcoming a past that would destroy most. Everything I learn about you pulls me more into love with you.”
Tears leaked down his face and she dried them. She washed away the fear and doubt.
He gave in, dropping the emotional shields.
Her emotion poured in. Love, so fast and hard, but she was ready to fight for him. Appreciation. No pity, no remorse, no doubt. Desire, her body still burned with pleasure. Power, hers escalating as his blood worked through her system.
Declan was hard again.
Consuela rolled him to his back and pressed a kiss over his heart as she crawled down his body, her eyes latched onto his.
“What are you doing, dove?”
“Proving I want you, every last part of you.” She licked down one white line, then gripped his thighs as she nipped the marks left from a shaman who’d feasted on his belly while they had been mindfucked by Malachi.
His eyes slammed shut as a groan rocked through him. She massaged the mess around his scrotum before pulling one testicle into her warm mouth.
“Aw, fuck,” he grunted, his hips rocking as he forgot about the ugly scars.
She purred as she released his sack and ran her tongue up his length while playing her thumb over his perineum. He nearly came from that alone.
She wrapped her lips around his crown. No one had been down there in so long he forgot to be conscious of what she would see.
Consuela pulled him in, he hit the back of her throat, and she slowly moved up, sucking as she went. Exquisite torture. Pleasure pulsed and raced through him.
His fingers delved into her hair. She worked his shaft, taking her time to bring him back up the climb. His hips thrust as he guided her speed faster. She hummed, her beautiful eyes latching onto his as she curled her tongue around the ridge before taking him all the way in.
He came and her throat worked, her eyes still on his. Her name left his lips as a breathless plea.
Releasing him, she moved up his body, licking her lips.
Sitting up, he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her deep, sucking at her plump lips. His taste mingled with hers was ambrosia. He’d never get enough.
“Shower. Erik needs a word with us before we go to Shadow Walk.”
“Only if I get to make you come too,” he answered as he stood with her still wrapped around him.
Her eyes lit up. “Of course you can, cher rouge.”
A shiver traveled down his spine. “Say it again.”
She giggled. “Cher rouge?”
“Why red?” he asked.
She ran her fingers through his hair. “Love your hair.”
He chuckled, setting her on the counter to turn on the shower. “It’s sexy rolling off your tongue.”
“Cher rouge,” she purred, sliding up behind him, pressing herself against the worst of his scars. His eyes closed as he let go of the disgust that usually washed over him when he took note of the mess of his skin.