The Love He Craves (The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan Book 2)

by Jenkins, Gemma

"Do long hours start again?"

  "Honestly, I don't know. But I wouldn't be surprised."

  A wide smile crossed his face and she couldn't help but join him. "I'm glad I got to be the one to tell you. I just wish I could see your eyes light up."

  He outstretched his hand toward her, accidentally hitting the bed rail, making him wince slightly.

  Nyxie lowered the rail, sat down next to his hip and took his hand in hers, holding it against her body between her breasts. She leaned forward and kissed him. The instant their lips met, all seemed right with the world. Nyxie no longer worried that he was angry with her for hurting him. She could feel the forgiveness in his kiss. She felt his love and knew their bond transcended the mishap.

  His lips moved gently against hers, evoking breathless tingles from her breasts to her core. Releasing his hand, Nyxie leaned forward, carefully placing her palms on either side of his body, as she maneuvered onto all fours on the bed.

  She wanted to ask him if he still loved her but even in her mind, the question rang of her pathetic insecurity. He couldn't know that being so unloved her whole life made every ounce of his love and affection the manna she needed to sustain her. His free hand wove into her hair at the base of her skull and fisted, pulling her hair in that slightly painful way that showed his dominance, and made her girlfriend clench with desire. When his hand opened and splayed, he pulled her closer, grinding their mouths together. His hand controlled the movement of her head as his tongue invaded her mouth.

  She didn't know if he intended the kiss to feel punishing or if his mouth was fucking hers as a substitute for the contact that would probably get them arrested if a nurse walked in on them having sex.

  Nyxie knew not to meet his probing tongue thrust for thrust, but instead stroked his tongue as it withdrew—an invitation to stay.

  After a few minutes, she realized her arms were beginning to shake with fatigue and she lowered her body over his. She could feel his raging erection through the bedding and his groan reflected her own frustration. Through the covers, she firmly stroked him with her hand.

  His fist tightened in her hair again, this time pulling her away. "God, I know we should stop. Anyone could walk through the door," he said breathing hard. "Suck it. Blow me, Nyxie. Blow me fast and hard and swallow every drop."

  "What? But…."

  "Now. Show me your obedience."

  Nyxie climbed off the bed and moved her body between the apex of his legs and the door. If she heard it opening, she could stand up immediately, giving her a split second to raise the blanket to cover him.

  Taking a deep breath, she un-tented his swollen cock. The massive appendage bounced up as the blanket and sheet came off and she moved aside the ugly hospital gown.

  Her fist surrounded the shaft as she guided the head into her mouth and began to pump with her hand and bobbed up and down, swallowing the air in her mouth to cause suction. She started off slowly, allowing her saliva to coat the delicate skin.

  "Harder, faster," he urged.

  Her grip tightened and she began twisting as her hand pumped and her mouth rode up and down. His glans hit her throat, and she fought to mentally overcome her gag reflex.

  He moaned and his hips began thrusting in rhythm with her motion, suddenly stilling as he exploded. She milked every last drop into her eager mouth. He shuddered repeatedly afterwards as she licked the head of his dick, making sure she swallowed every bit of his salty essence.

  "Go get a washcloth and clean me up and wash your hands."

  "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

  "You did well. I'm proud of you," he said, reaching blindly in her direction. She didn't see him because she had already turned to the sink. He dropped his hand and covered up with the hospital gown until she came to wash him.

  "Thank you."

  Nyxie beamed at the praise and washed her hands as the water began to warm and then took a washcloth and wetted it before returning to his side and lovingly cleaned his half-erect cock. He took the washcloth from her and finished washing.

  "Was I doing it wrong?"

  "No," he said gruffly. "You were going to make me get hard again."

  Nyxie smiled to herself and covered him back up when he was finished.

  She sat back on the bed and leaned forward until her head was resting on his chest.

  "Sir. I need to go back to the mountain."

  "I'm not sure I could find that particular mountain again. Why do you want to go back there?"

  "My necklace is missing. It must've come off when we were coming down the slope."

  He sighed. "I'll get you a new one."

  "Are you mad?" she asked again, hating herself for feeling needy.

  "No, baby."

  Chapter 38

  Nyxie sat down in the chair in the corner of his hospital room and opened the foam container to see what they had gotten for her. Steam carried the aroma of marinara sauce from her mozzarella topped baked ziti, garlic toast, salad and Italian style green beans. A see-thru plastic container with a thick, gooey, frosted walnut brownie sat within easy reach for dessert. She fought to free a fork from its packaging while his parents visited and fussed over Declan. And he ate a rather unappetizing burger while he told them about their trip so far. Her hands were shaking with hunger as she lifted her first bite. It only took about a quarter of the meal before the edginess she was feeling began to dissipate.

  She consumed as much as she could eat and set the rest aside, planning to take it with her to the RV and save it for a meal the next day. It was just not her nature to let good food go to waste.

  At nine o'clock precisely, Roy announced they needed to go find a room for the night. Their body clocks were still on Central time.

  "Dad," Declan said, shaking his head. "We've got the RV in the parking lot. It sleeps at least eight."

  Nyxie's head jerked up, and if he could have seen her, he would have found her staring at him dumbfounded.

  "Uh, yeah," Nyxie said, hoping his parents hadn't seen the flash of uncertainty she felt. They had all been attempting to get along and not purposefully try to antagonize each other, but she had no desire to spend any more time with them than necessary, much less alone with them without Declan to draw their attention. "Yeah, you can have the bedroom. I'll sleep on the sofa."

  They all said their good-nights to Declan, Nyxie’s quite subdued, before she led her in-laws to the far end of the parking lot where three other RVs were parked. They passed the Strykers' rental car where they retrieved a pair of small rolling suitcases. A man sat in a lawn chair next to an old Winnebago.

  "Are you my new neighbors?" he asked.

  Coach quickly introduced them all as he reached out and shook the man's hand. How easily being friendly to a stranger came to them. Had Nyxie been alone, she probably would have ducked her head and walked right by, hoping not to draw the man’s notice.

  "Do you need any help with the hookups?"

  "I can get them," Nyxie said.

  "I'll get them," Roy said, squaring his shoulders as if Nyxie had insulted his masculinity. “You go in; I'll take care of this."

  Nyxie unlocked the door and led Dorothea into the RV. She put her leftovers in the fridge and turned to find Major sitting on the sofa next to Declan's belt. He had left it there earlier, after using it to punish her. It was all Nyxie could see, as if it was a guilty reminder, not only of her transgression, but also of their lifestyle.

  "Uh, make yourself at home," she said, not knowing what else to say. "I'll go get our things out of the bedroom so you can put your suitcases away."

  Nyxie snagged the belt off the sofa and headed into the bedroom. She pushed the door closed so she could get to the closet hidden behind the door—an awkward design of the RV.

  With a tug, she pulled the suitcase out of the closet, laid it open on the bed and began pulling her clothes off the hangers, folding them and putting them in her luggage. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror that hung on the back of the bedroom door, s
he realized she still wore blood-covered clothing.

  She set aside a pair of black yoga capris with a pink stripe down the leg and a spaghetti strap pink tank top that would be comfortable enough to sleep in. The only sleepwear she brought were silky teddies and sheer nightgowns—nothing she would wear in front of his parents—or the kids for that matter—at least not intentionally.

  She didn’t pack Declan's clothes; she pushed them to one side, hoping with her things out, there would be a little space for her in-laws.

  Declan had placed a square laundry basket in the bottom of the closet and Nyxie wasn't going to remove it unless his parents asked her to. She stripped off her stained shirt, bra and pants, and threw them in the basket, then turned back to the bed to get dressed.

  "Nyxie, do you need any help?" Major asked.

  Suddenly the door opened, and Roy and Dorothea stood only feet away staring at her naked backside.

  Dear God, her back and bottom were riddled with bruises, not only from her earlier punishment, but also from the corset marks he had placed upon her with the cane a week earlier. Those bruises were nearly gone—quite yellow and faded with age and the little scabs from the places where he'd opened the skin were also mostly healed.

  But not completely.

  Despite the bikini underwear she wore, she knew with his blind aim, her ass and the area around it bore marks.

  "Oh my God," Dorothea said under her breath.

  "Please, close the door," Nyxie pleaded, too embarrassed to say more.

  Roy pushed his wife aside to get to the knob and pulled it closed.

  Even after the door shut, Nyxie stood frozen, her arms shielding her breasts in a position that she didn't even remember moving into.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

  Before dressing, Nyxie briefly looked into the mirror to see exactly what they had seen. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she thought. Maybe she could tell them she slipped on the rocks getting Declan off the mountain. Would they believe that? As she did her best to look over her shoulder, she could see the marks looked exactly like what they were. Bruises in different stages of healing. Maybe if she hadn't had him put the lace pattern on her back, she could have been able to lie about the rest, but there was no way to lie about the symmetry of the fading yellow injuries. Obviously, they had been deliberately placed there.

  She pulled her clothing on and checked the mirror to make sure none of the bruises showed above the tank top. Although she hadn't put Declan's jeans and shirts back in his suitcase, she took a deep breath and exited the bedroom with both their bags. His contained all of their toys and she didn't want his parents to happen upon them if there was a reason why they needed to open his bag.

  Nyxie kept her gaze on the floor as she exited the bedroom, unable to meet their eyes.

  "It's all yours," she mumbled. "I'm sorry I didn't have any clean sheets to put on the bed, but we washed them the day before yesterday."

  "That's fine," Roy said, attempting to be polite.

  "Declan's not a monster. Every mark was consensual."

  Nyxie placed the luggage in an out-of-the-way spot behind the driver's seat and began closing curtains and blinds, while Roy and Dorothea disappeared into the bedroom. She grabbed her phone and called Kylie to check on the kids. Sitting down on the passenger side captain's chair, she drew her legs up in front of her, acutely aware of the whispered conversation going on behind the bedroom door. She couldn't hear their words, but she knew her back was the topic of conversation.

  "Hey," Nyxie said into the phone, her voice quiet and subdued. She felt overwhelmingly exhausted. "Did y'all get settled into a motel?"

  "We had to go to Pagosa Springs but the place seems clean and safe," Kylie said.

  "How is…are they going to get the RV fixed?"

  Obviously, the kids could hear the conversation. "Declan had surgery to repair a corneal laceration. His nose was broken and he had four stitches to sew up his eyebrow. They're going to release him in the morning and we'll be on our way to meet up with you.”

  "Thank God," Kylie said.

  "Are the kids behaving themselves? Have you had any trouble using the credit card?"

  "No problem with the card, but Reina is upset. She doesn't think you're coming back."

  Considering she had been abandoned by her mother a year earlier, it shouldn't surprise Nyxie that the girl might feel abandoned again. "Let me talk to her."

  Nyxie spent a few minutes talking with each child before the phone returned to the nanny's hand. "Kylie, by any chance do you have any Kotex in your luggage I can use? I'll replace them as soon as I get to the store."

  "Inside pocket," Kylie said. "Just what you needed—the cherry on top of a big pile of shit."

  "Yeah, that's about right. Thanks for everything, Kylie. At least I don't have to worry about the kids right now. We’ll call you as soon as Declan gets released and we’ll head that way."

  "Sounds good, Nyxie, we'll see you tomorrow."

  Nyxie hung up the phone feeling empty and alone.

  With a quick glance at the bedroom door where the discussion was getting louder, Nyxie grabbed a pair of clean panties and a towel from her luggage and what she euphemistically called back-to-school-supplies out of Kylie's duffel bag. She disappeared into the bathroom and took a quick shower. Maybe with luck, his parents would go to bed before she emerged. They hadn't. When she turned off the hairdryer after her shower, she could hear someone washing a couple of cups in the sink. Nyxie finished in the bathroom and reluctantly emerged, heading straight for her suitcase to tuck her worn underwear out of sight.

  "You don't have to wash those," Nyxie said to her mother-in-law who was handing off the last cup to Roy for drying. "I would've done them before I went to bed."

  Dorothea dried her hands on a paper towel. "Nyxie, you don't have to get defensive. You had more important things to deal with. No one is judging you on a pair of dirty cups in the sank."

  No, they had plenty of other things to judge her about.

  Nyxie felt sick to her stomach, standing in front of the people who knew her secret.

  Roy reached across to his wife to put the cup away in an overhead cabinet with a little latch on it to keep it closed through turns and rough roads.

  "Darlin', we need to apologize for walking in on you like that. It never occurred to us you might be changing."

  "Even my eight-year-old knows to knock on a closed door," she mumbled. She felt like she was back in the high school gym and he was getting ready to go off on her again. And if not Coach, Major would.

  "I don't even know what to say to you," Dorothea said, slipping the paper towel into a trash bag hanging from a corner of a lower cabinet.

  "Then don't say anything," Nyxie said, wanting to bite back the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

  "When I find out my son is abusing his wife; I have to say something."

  Nyxie gasped. "He's not abusing me…."

  "How can you say that? There is no way you can claim those are random bruises. Some of those bruises are fresh and some are old. They are too uniform to not have been placed by intelligent design."

  Nyxie stared at her, wishing she could deny what they already knew. "It’s nothing for you to worry about."

  "Of course it is. He wasn't raised to act like that. He didn't see that behavior modeled in our home or my parents’ home."

  "He's not abusing me! It's consensual."

  "I don't know if you are a Svengali or a Jezebel, but I have no doubt that you led him down this immoral path."

  Nyxie wanted to laugh. Not just because of the irony of it, but just the idea that she could somehow overcome her timid nature to broach the subject of being masochistic with Declan and then coerce him into something against his nature, seemed funny to her. Declan was a leader, not a follower. But she supposed it was easier to blame her than to admit Declan wasn’t as perfect as they believed.

  "Thea, you know that's not true. Declan—" He stopped. "We should have p
ut him in counseling when Junior told us what kind of websites he was subscribing to."

  "What are you talking about?" she asked, turning towards her husband.

  "The porn—the kinky porn sites. I told you."

  Realization lit Dorothea's eyes. "You never said he was looking at S&M sites.”

  "Not specifically, no." Coach looked into his wife's confused face and tilted his head sympathetically. Nyxie could tell he hadn’t told her to protect her from the truth.

  “You should've told me. We could have gotten him help."

  Dorothea’s voice cracked, but if she had any tears, Nyxie couldn’t detect them. If anything, the older woman’s stance seemed to take on her military bearing. Her shoulders pulled back and Nyxie felt relieved that airport security would not allow them to transport arms.

  "I didn't want to add fuel to the fire. All you two did was fight and bicker."

  "And now we have a son who's a pervert."

  "Stop!" Nyxie shouted, finding it easier to stand up for her husband than for herself. The same way she could stand up for the kids when necessary. "There is nothing wrong with Declan."

  "Says the woman who lets him hit her."

  Biting her lip, Nyxie resisted the urge to throw some smartass comment their way—not that any smartass comments were coming to mind. She wanted to say it wasn't any of their business and they could fuck off if they didn't like it. Declan wouldn't want her to roll over and take it. He would want her to stand up for herself.

  "Just because it isn't what's right for you or other people, doesn't make it wrong. It's right for us."

  "It's unhealthy. Your relationship is like some codependent drug addiction," Dorothea said.

  Nyxie couldn't deny it. She had never had a role model of a healthy relationship to follow. But she knew her relationship with Declan felt right.

  "It works for us. Declan is happy. I'm happy. Can't we just leave it at that?"

  Nyxie stepped away from them and lifted one of the bench seat bottoms to retrieve a pillow and quilt from the storage area beneath it. "It's been a long day," she said, putting two pillows on the couch that she intended to sleep on.