Declan: The Callaghan Mafia #1 Page 9

  Because I wanted to be wrapped around her.

  “Dec—oh!”

  “Mine,” I growled.

  I hoisted her against the wall and felt her wrap her legs around me. She held me close, gazing into my eyes. Teasing me as her tongue rolled over her lower lip. I captured it, sucking as my teeth slid across it. And as her pussy jumped against my cock, I pulled back my hips.

  Lining myself up with her entrance.

  “Remember to breathe,” I murmured.

  “I’ll rememb—oh, yes.”

  I had plenty of time to use the toys I bought. I had plenty of time to tie her down all day every day and make her my little cum dumpster. But, right now? I wanted to feel her body jumping against mine. My hips bottomed out against hers and I bit against her shoulder. I kissed down to her breasts, sucking more marks against her skin as she clung to me. As her nails dug into my back. Her spindly little nails that wouldn't do.

  “Tomorrow, you’re getting pampered. But tonight, you’re getting pounded,” I growled.

  I snapped my hips, over and over. Listening as she moaned into the crook of my neck. Her arms wrapped around my body as she clung to me. As I pressed her into the tiles of the shower wall. My toes curled into the floor. She was so fucking tight. Dripping wet for me as she soaked my balls in her arousal. She kissed my neck. I fisted her hair. I drew her head back and licked up her pulse point. She shivered beautifully for me, ready to fall apart at a moment’s notice.

  “Don’t you dare come until I tell you to,” I growled.

  “Declan, please. I can’t—I can’t—I’m so close. How do I—”

  I captured her lips and she fell apart against me. She quaked, her pussy quivering around my cock. I rutted against her. I fucked her through her orgasm. I ground my tightly-wound curls against her clit as I swallowed her groans. She jolted with the force of her second orgasm. Her sweet, beautiful, skin-drenching orgasm. My curls stroked her swollen nub as her body collapsed against mine.

  And when my lips released hers, I chuckled.

  “You didn’t wait, sweet girl. And now, you must be punished.” I quickly turned off the water and picked her up and took her straight to my bed.

  I flipped her over and listened to her squeal. Goosebumps prickled all along her skin as I twisted her wrists behind her. I reached into the drawer of the bedside table and found them exactly where I put them. A pair of beautiful handcuffs that would surely keep her at my mercy. I locked her wrists behind her back. I smacked her ass, watching it jiggle. She moaned so beautifully for me that it made me smack the other cheek. Watching as matching hand marks appeared against her globes.

  “Beautiful,” I murmured.

  I slid off the bed and walked over to my closet. I reached for two silken ties and grabbed the basket of toys. Oh, I’d have fun punishing her in ways she’d never experience with another man.

  Because she was mine.

  All mine.

  I tied her ankles to the bed, spreading her legs for me. Watching her juices softly wet the sheets beneath her made my cock weep for mercy. I pulled out some of the clit stimulators and turned it on. I set it against her ankle, and she jumped, gasping in shock.

  “Declan?”

  “I suggest you keep quiet for me, sweet girl.”

  I ran the vibrating toy up her leg, and every time she moaned? I spanked her. She hissed as outlines of my hands appeared against her skin. Wonderful, beautiful, luscious marks I wanted to lick with my tongue. Her creamy skin shone my striations so effortlessly. I slid it up her calf. Up the inside her thigh. She trembled for me, but she didn’t make a sound.

  “Mm, you’re doing so well,” I hummed.

  I pressed the vibrator against her clit, and she groaned. Earning her a hearty spank against her reddened ass cheek. She bucked against it, drenching it with her juices as she swallowed her sounds. She tugged at the handcuffs. I grinned as she tried to seek out her own end against the little toy. I stroked my cock, feeling precum already leaking down my shaft.

  Then, I pulled the toy away.

  “No, no, no,” she whimpered.

  I spanked her again. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “Oh God, no,” she moaned.

  “If you do, say ‘marshmallow.’ Repeat it back.”

  “Mar-mar-marshmallow.”

  “Good girl.”

  I turned off the toy and walked back over to the basket. I rifled through the bin with so many ideas rushing through my mind. I had edible pens to write any message I wanted on her body before licking it off. I could trace my cock with one of them before making her swallow me down.

  No, too greedy.

  I picked up a butt plug and grinned as it shone in the dim light of the room. I could plug her holes and make her come until she begged for mercy.

  No, too noisy.

  Then, I pulled out a gag. A blindfold. A feather tickler. I reached for the vibrating cock ring before I walked back over to her, my eyes traveling along her reddened skin. I grinned at the handprints on her ass cheeks. I slipped the blindfold around her before wrapping the ball gag around behind her head. Watching her drool against the sheets brought me great joy.

  But nothing made me smile like her giggles.

  “Declan,” she murmured.

  I tickled her with the feather, and she darted around.

  “Declan! Oh, no! That—that tickl—”

  “What’s the word?”

  But she didn’t say it. Not once did she murmur that safe word of ours.

  “Now, hold still, sweet girl. While I continue your punishment.”

  Then, I got onto the bed, slid between her thighs, and rose up her hips. I stuffed her pussy with my cock, listening to her moan and cry out around that gag. I pounded into her, watching her jump for me. Listening to her groan my muffled name. And every time she got close to her end, I tickled her with the feather.

  “Declan!” she shrieked.

  “You’ll come when I let you, and not a moment before. Then maybe, when I tell you not to come, you’ll listen.”

  And I teased her until she was a sweating mess before finally giving her what she earned.

  11

  Ciara

  I hobbled around the room trying to put up some of my things. Most of the movers unpacked our stuff already, but some of the things needed rearranging. Including the furniture. I tried working out my sore muscles by pushing things around. Couches and chairs. Putting the kitchen table in a different place. But every time my muscle ached, or my body twitched, my mind rushed back to last night.

  To that adoring pain he pushed through my body.

  “Who’s a good girl?”

  His hand cracked against my ass as I hissed in the shower.

  “Me. M-m-m-me, Declan.”

  “Who’s a beautiful girl?”

  His hand cracked against my ass again before kissing the hissing red mark against my skin.

  “Me,” I whispered.

  My hand mindlessly massaged my skin. I still felt the soreness of those red marks. And oh, how they shone for me in the mirror this morning. I never thought being spanked could have ever been a good thing. And yet, Declan somehow made it loving. Made it seductive.

  Made it worth my while.

  “Declan, please.”

  “That’s right. I love it when you beg, beautiful.”

  His tongue lapped up my slit, pressing softly. Keeping me on edge as his fingertips danced over the marks on my ass.

  “You taste so amazing. This pussy. Mm. Mine. All mine.”

  I gasped with delight. “Yours. All yours.”

  He cracked his hand against my ass cheek again. “And you’d do best not to forget it.”

  I pulled myself from my trance, my thighs warming. I squeezed them together, trying to push the memories from my mind. The way he teased my asshole. The way he filled my virginal holes. The pleasurable heights and rushing orgasms that forced me to pass out in his arms. I’d never felt so alive, so cherished.

&nbs
p; And when he laid me down on that bed, I told him I’d do anything for my release.

  “Anything?”

  I nodded quickly. “Yes, Declan. Anything. Please. Let me-let me-let me come.”

  “You wanna come on my cock, beautiful?”

  “Yes, yes, yes. Please.”

  “What’s the magic word?”

  I racked my mind to try and remember it. That fruitful word he told me he’d ask for. But my mind was so hazy, and my body so clouded with tension and my pussy so ready to burst that I couldn't conjure it.

  Until he wrapped his hand around my throat.

  “What’s the magic word, Ciara?” he growled.

  I whimpered at the feel of his hand. “Forever.”

  I shivered as I remembered how powerful that orgasm had been. I squeezed my legs together as my back fell against the wall. My thighs jumped with the remembrance. My spine tingled with the memory. I slid down the wall until I sat on the floor, amidst the chaos of our new home.

  I found myself panting for air as my eyes fluttered closed.

  “Declan,” I whispered.

  My only regret was that he was gone this morning. I woke up, ready to roll over and rest against him until it was time for a late breakfast. But he’d been nowhere to be found. Just a note on his pillow, telling me he had to step out for work and would be back in time for dinner. So, instead of lying around in bed, I decided to do some rearranging. Get some of this chaos in order before he got home, so it didn’t stress him out.

  So it didn’t stress me out.

  I pushed myself off the floor and finished rearranging the kitchen. After putting the table where I wanted it and making sure the cabinets were organized, I walked into the room behind the kitchen. A room we still hadn’t designated what to do with yet. Right now, it was a catch-all room. It housed some of the cardboard boxes I had yet to go through as well as random pieces of furniture to decorate the brownstone with. I slid a chair out of the room and pushed it into the guest bedroom. It sat at the front of the brownstone on the same level as the kitchen. An odd layout, but it negated the need for a basement.

  Which I enjoyed thoroughly.

  I placed the chair in the corner facing the foot of the bed. It matched the decor of the room and the sheer white curtains I’d hung up after having a couple cups of coffee. Then, I made my way back upstairs to clean up a bit. I’d worked up a sweat moving around furniture and, well, thinking of Declan. I stayed upstairs to finish hanging my clothes before starting on his. Then, I took the liberty of cleaning up the bathroom. By the time I was done, I was drenched in sweat and it was well past lunchtime.

  So, I took a shower and went down to the kitchen.

  “What to do for dinner,” I said mindlessly.

  I wasn’t the best cook. And by “best,” I meant I was kicked out and sent to my room more times than I ever touched a meal in one. But with a recipe on my brand new phone, what could go wrong? I decided to start with something small. Spaghetti with meat sauce, since the meat was already unthawed. I pulled up a recipe on my phone and gathered all the ingredients.

  Then, the doorbell rang.

  I paused. What was I supposed to do? Did Declan want me to answer the door if he wasn’t here? Maybe it was Declan, and he’d lost his key? I wiped my hands off and walked down the stairs toward the front door. I paused, trying to see through the frosted door panes who it could be.

  “Ciara? It’s me. I’d like to talk.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Fiona?”

  I opened the door and saw her standing there. The epitome of grace and poise. With her head held high and her eyes leveled at mine, she looked like a queen. Born into regalness and destined to look down her nose at all of us for the rest of her life. I straightened my back and tried to make myself look presentable. Out of habit, though, more than feeling as if I needed to.

  “May I come in?” she asked.

  I wasn’t sure what Declan wanted me to do. But this was his mother. And I didn’t really have a choice. I stepped off to the side and ushered her in before I closed the door. We walked up to the kitchen in silence and I decided to put on a pot of coffee. I fumbled around with the coffee maker for a little while before figuring it out. Then, I put the meat back in the refrigerator.

  Didn’t want dinner to go bad, after all.

  After making each of us a cup of coffee, I sat down at the table with her. She faced me, her eyes studying me harshly as I mindlessly sipped my drink.

  “To what do I owe this visit?” I asked softly.

  “I wanted to come talk to you before Declan gets home,” Fiona said.

  “Woman to woman?”

  “Something like that.”

  I winced. “All right. What’s on your mind?”

  “I want to help you.”

  I blinked. “Like, with moving?”

  She shook her head. “No, with leaving. I want to help you leave this place and set you up somewhere, so you never have to return to all this.”

  I tried my best not to drop my mug on the floor. “What?”

  Fiona settled her hand over my forearm. “I’ll make all the arrangements. Get you the money you need. Help you find accommodations. I’ve got connections in many places where I can put you up. You can go anywhere in the country. Take any name you wish.”

  “I’m sorry, change my name?”

  “It’ll be the only way to really get out of this, Ciara. You're better than this life.”

  “But what about Declan? What about—”

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry about my son. He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. You won’t have to marry him this way. You can go and live your life with freedom, knowing that you’ll never have to work another day in your life if you don’t want to.”

  I nodded slowly. “So, you’re filling to fund my life for the rest of yours if I promise not to marry your son.”

  “It’s more than that, Ciara. It’s so much more than that.”

  “May I ask you something?”

  “Of course. I’m sure you have many questions.”

  I snickered. “That’s an understatement. But if your husband is missing and my father is a suspect, why in the world would you interfere in Declan’s business?”

  She paused. “How much do you know about this business?”

  I shrugged. “Enough. I’m not stupid. I’ve heard my father talk over the years and I know how things work. Right now, Declan is sitting where your husband usually would. In a position of power over my family. And probably others, too. Why would you take the chance in meddling?”

  “I’m his mother. That’s why.”

  “You’re also not his matriarch. And I know how ruthless men in this lifestyle can get. You forget who raised me, I think.”

  Fiona sighed. “You have to start your own life without the Callaghans. Without my son. I can’t express to you how important this is.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to try if you want me to trust you after how cold-hearted you’ve been toward me.”

  “Can you blame me after all this?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I can.”

  Declan’s mother fell silent and I set my mug on the table. I rose from my chair and ushered for her to get up. Because I was ready for her to leave. This was my house just as much as it was Declan’s. And even if I had no stake in this house, I knew he wouldn't want his mother in this place we shared after speaking the kind of treason she just did.

  “I think you should leave,” I said.

  Fiona scoffed as she got up. She murmured something about the coffee, but I didn’t catch it. I ushered her downstairs and opened the front door, watching her walk out onto the porch.

  Then, she quickly turned around and shoved her hand in her purse.

  “Take this if you don’t believe me,” she said.

  She pulled out a manila envelope.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “Just take it. And know that I’m serious.”

  My brow
furrowed in confusion as she turned on her heels. She walked down the steps and scrambled into the blacked-out town car. Moving much too quickly for my liking. I looked around before I closed the front door. Locking it, for good measure. And as my back leaned against the door, I opened the envelope.

  Only to find stacks of one-hundred dollar bills.

  “What the...”

  I pulled them out and tried counting them. Only, I lost count. There had to be at least sixty grand in his envelope alone. I rushed upstairs and dumped it out onto the kitchen table. I spread it out, counting it and trying to keep my cool.

  “One hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred.”

  I did the math in my head before I collapsed against a chair. Not sixty grand. Eighty grand. I was staring at eighty grand spread out on the table for me to use to run away. The air conditioning kicked on as tears rushed my eyes. I was staring at my road to freedom, and yet I didn’t want to reach for it.

  Something fluttered in the corner of my eye. Off the table, wafting in the breeze of the air conditioning in the brownstone. I whipped my head over and saw the piece of paper floating around. So, I got up and retrieved it. I plucked it out of midair and held it in the palm of my hand. It wasn’t green, so it wasn’t money. It wasn’t blue, so it wasn’t the paper wrap around the stacks of one-hundred dollar bills.

  It was, however, gray. With a partial silver insignia and the letters ‘L-Y’.

  My jaw dropped open as I looked back at the money.

  I rushed over to the table and started sifting through it. I gathered the pieces of the broken insignia I found between the stacks of money. And when all of them were put together, I saw my family’s crest. The beautiful silver and gray that intertwined with black and a splash of green.