Defile (Civil Corruption Book 2)

by Jessica Prince

Both our heads shot to the side at the sound of Gwen’s voice. She was standing just outside the patio doors, a look of worry marring her pretty face. “We heard yelling. Are you okay?”

  Her fingers unwound and she dropped her arms, taking two large steps away from me. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

  “You didn’t,” Gwen said, taking a step forward. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

  Tate pasted a wobbly smile on her face as she wiped the tears away with the backs of her hands. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. But I have to go. Congratulations again. Please tell Garrett I’m sorry for leaving so early. I’m just not feeling very well all of a sudden.”

  “Tate.” I moved in her direction, but she quickly backed away, issuing another apology before turning on her heels and bolting.

  “Declan,” Gwen started when I moved to go after her. I paused long enough to look back at her. “You know what you’re doing?”

  “No,” I replied. “All I know is I can’t lose her again.”

  She examined me closely, her eyes scanning every inch of my face before she finally nodded and turned to enter the house. Just before the doors closed, she glanced over her shoulder and said, “Start with what you just told me. And good luck.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tatum

  The moment the Uber stopped in front of my building, I shoved the door open and climbed out on wobbly legs. My poor balance was only partly due to the large amount of alcohol I’d consumed earlier. It was mostly because my world was still shaking thanks to Declan Forrester. I couldn’t stop replaying every word he’d said.

  “Ms. Valentine,” Maury, the doorman in my building, greeted the moment I stepped into the lobby. “How was the wedding reception?”

  I gave him the best facsimile of a smile I could muster. “It was great. Thanks for asking. But I’m exhausted.”

  Normally I’d stop and chat with the older man. He was sweet and hilarious, and he was so totally in love with his wife, Elise. I loved talking with him, but tonight all I wanted to do was get up to my apartment, open a bottle of red wine, and take the still-lingering buzz to full-blown shit-faced.

  “Then you have a good evening, Ms. Valentine.”

  “Please, call me Tatum, or Tate.”

  “All right, then. Have a good night, Tatum.”

  “You too, Maury. And tell Elise I said hi.”

  Once I was safely closed inside my apartment, I kicked my heels off and headed straight for the kitchen. Whipping the wine fridge open, I pulled out the first bottle my hand touched and proceeded to uncork it. I was a quarter of the way through my first glass when someone started beating on my front door, scaring the ever-loving hell out of me and making me spill the contents of my glass.

  I stared at the hardwood door, frozen in shock as the pounding continued, followed by a furious “Tatum! Open the door!”

  “Fucking shit,” I breathed, placing a trembling hand on my chest. My heart beat so violently I was worried it was about to break through.

  “Tate!” Declan continued to bellow. “Open the goddamn door or I’m breaking the fucker down!”

  I was in the middle of a serious emotional upheaval, and just tipsy enough to fall over the edge into pissed-right-the-hell-off, so I slammed my glass on the counter, silently thanking God it didn’t shatter, and stomped to the door.

  The second I yanked it open, I launched in. “What in the hell do you think you’re—”

  But that was as far as I got. Declan burst into my apartment like an angry bull charging at a red cape. The sound of the door slamming behind him barely registered as he grabbed my face with both hands and pulled me into the most deliciously punishing kiss I’d ever experienced. The instant his lips touched mine, I was gone. There was no rational thinking—hell, there was no thinking at all. There was only touch and taste. I was consumed by all things Declan, and when his tongue brushed my lips, wanting entry, I was all too happy to comply, opening my mouth to give him access.

  He cranked up the kiss, taking it from smoldering to white-hot in the blink of an eye, and all I could do was follow his lead, unable to comprehend anything else.

  I met his tongue thrust for thrust, licking and tasting, battling for dominance at the same time Declan fisted my hair and used his grip to tip my head farther back.

  Ripping his mouth from mine, he trailed hot, biting kisses from my jaw down my neck. “Still just as fucking sweet as I remember.” His teeth closed on the skin at my collarbone, causing me to suck in a gasp at the same time his hands grabbed my ass, squeezing hard before lifting my feet off the ground. With no other choice, I wrapped my legs around his waist to keep from falling, then plastered my mouth to his as he walked me, unseeing, through the spacious apartment.

  One second I was holding on for dear life, and the next I was flying through the air before landing on my bed.

  “Declan,” I murmured, my brain momentarily kick-starting. I watched as he ripped his jacket off and threw it to the floor before lowering to his knees. “I don’t think—” My words cut off when his hands landed on my thighs and he yanked me to the edge of the bed.

  “That’s good, baby. Don’t think. Just feel.” The tips of his fingers trailed higher, bunching my dress up as they went. Once it reached my hips, he moved my soaked panties to the side and buried his head between my legs.

  “Oh God!” I cried. The feel of his tongue diving as deep as it could go sent shock waves through my whole body. He ground his face against me, letting out a deep growl as he lapped and licked and sucked.

  “Fucking Christ. You have the most delicious pussy. Can’t get enough.” He licked the wetness from my folds before moving up, pulling my clit between his teeth and flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

  “So good,” I moaned, fisting the comforter as I writhed on the bed. He shoved two of his long fingers deep as his mouth continued working that tight bundle of nerves. I bucked my hips, trying as hard as I could to get closer, trying to get more. My body was running strictly on primal desire; nothing else mattered but what Declan was doing to me, how he was making me feel.

  “That’s right, baby,” he growled against me. “Ride my hand. I want you to come all over my face before I fuck you.”

  “Shit!” I cried, squeezing my eyes closed as it rushed over me. “Fuck. Oh God! Declan, I’m coming!”

  He ate me, driving his fingers into my pussy even faster as I came for what felt like an eternity.

  The waves crashing over me had only just started to subside when I felt his weight hit the bed. It took an unbelievable amount of energy to pry my eyelids open, but once I did all I saw were those thundercloud eyes, darkened with lust, staring back at me.

  “Jesus, baby. You’re still so goddamn beautiful when you come. Makes me so fucking hard.” He thrust his hips against me, forcing a needy whimper past my lips when the erection behind his fly rubbed against my oversensitized clit. “You feel that, Tate? Feel what you do to me? God, I want you so fucking bad. Always wanted you.”

  I’d just come harder than I had in forever, and already my body was primed and begging for more. “Declan.” My voice came out pleading and husky with desire. “Please.”

  He continued rocking against me, driving me out of my mind. “Please what?”

  “I need more.”

  Declan’s smile was positively wicked as he continued to torture me slowly. “More what?”

  I tangled my fingers in the fabric of his shirt to try and pull him closer and force him to give me what I wanted. “You. Now.”

  I was drunk on his mouth, high on his touch, completely and totally under his influence. I went in for another kiss but he evaded, lifting his head out of my reach. “You want me to fuck you, baby? Is that what you need?”

  “Yes, Declan. God, fuck me,” I begged as I tried fruitlessly to get him closer.

  His weight slowly left me as he inched away, finally coming to stan
d at the edge of the bed between my spread thighs. When his hands came up to the buttons of that sexy gray shirt, a new rush of arousal made my panties even wetter.

  “Ask me nicely,” he taunted, slowly undoing one button at a time. “Ask me really nice, baby, and I’ll give you exactly what you need.” One button. “I’ll fuck you so hard.” Two buttons. “So deep.” Three buttons. “I’ll bury myself so completely you’ll feel me forever.” Another button undone, revealing inch after inch of that toned, tan, inked skin. “Is that what you want?”

  More than I wanted the breath in my lungs. “Declan,” I panted. “Please. Please fuck me. Please.”

  “Well.” He smirked. “Since you asked so nicely.” The rest of the buttons flew around the room, pinging off the hardwood floor as he tore the shirt away. One second we were dressed, and the next he had us both naked. When he turned and bent to retrieve the wallet from his discarded pants, I saw it. The tattoo he’d gotten so long ago. It was still there, wrapping around his right hip. ‘My Crimson gives me life.’ The lyrics to one of many songs we’d written together. Lyrics that were meant to describe his love for me. He’d kept them all this time.

  “Head on the pillow, Tate,” he commanded, standing tall and putting his knee to the bed. The sight of his thick, hard cock erased the memories that threatened to extinguish the fire burning in my veins. “And spread those long fucking legs wide. Let me see all of you.”

  My chest stuttered on a harsh breath as I did what he demanded, watching the whole time as he fisted his erection, jerking harder than I would’ve expected. “This what you want?” he continued to tease, swirling his thumb in the precum dripping from the tip.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “I want it, Deck.”

  After pulling a condom from his wallet, he tossed it to the floor and placed the wrapper between his teeth, tearing it open quickly. He rolled it down his massive length slowly before lowering his weight back down on top of me. “Been too long, baby. Been dreaming of this moment for way too fucking long. I can’t go slow.”

  “Don’t,” I spit instantly. “Don’t go slow. I want it hard, just like you promised.” That was all the encouragement he needed, because the second the last word left my lips, he buried himself balls-deep, tearing a cry from deep within my chest.

  “Fuck, baby. Fuck! Pussy fits me like a goddamn glove.” He pulled out and slammed back in, pushing me farther up the bed. I lifted my arms and braced them on the headboard to anchor myself for his brutal, claiming thrusts. “Christ, I’ve missed this. Missed being inside you. Feels like coming home.”

  “Harder,” I demanded, wanting what he’d offered just minutes before.

  The sound of skin slapping against skin punctuated the grunts and moans coming from our mouths as we fucked like our lives depended on it. My legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs. One of my hands came down so I could touch him, feel him, raking my nails across the flesh of his back fiercely.

  “Jesus,” he hissed as I scratched hard enough to ensure the marks would be there for days. “Fuck yeah, Tate. Just like that. Mark me, baby.”

  I did it again, loving the feel of his cock twitching inside me every time I dug in. I’d forgotten how much he loved when I got rough with him. It had driven him wild whenever I bit or scratched almost to the point of pain. He’d always gotten off on it in a very big way.

  The bed creaked beneath us with each drive of our hips. The headboard crashed against the wall as my impending orgasm built stronger and stronger, threatening to drown me.

  “Close, Deck. So close. God, you feel so good.”

  “So do you.” Sweat coated our bodies as we moved against each other. I lifted my head, taking his bottom lip between my teeth and nipping before thrusting my tongue inside his mouth as he drove into me. “You’re like Heaven. Hot, wet, tight Heaven. I could live inside you forever. Die the happiest man in the fuckin’ world.”

  I felt myself clamp down around him as a million fireworks went off inside me. Screaming his name, I came so hard, so long, that by the time I was done I could barely breathe.

  “Shit, Tatum. Shit! Yes. Fuck yes. I’m coming. Jesus, I’m coming so fuckin’ hard.” He buried himself deep, throwing his head back and roaring as he came. Once he finished, he collapsed, his weight resting on me like a warm, comforting blanket.

  Minutes passed, ticking by at a snail’s pace as we both came back down to earth. My arms and legs fell against the bed, my muscles completely limp from the exertion of what had just happened. It felt like an eternity before he finally lifted off me and moved toward the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

  Without him clouding my head, the haze of intoxicating lust finally wore off, and I was able to fully comprehend exactly what had just happened.

  And how badly I had just screwed up.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Declan

  Pulling myself from the miracle lying in that bed was the last thing I wanted to do, even if it was only long enough to toss the spent condom and wash up after having my world rocked.

  It had been a goddamn dream come true, better than any memory I had—and believe me, I had countless vivid memories of Tatum Valentine. I went as quickly as I could, seeing as my legs were still shaky and uncoordinated from coming so hard.

  Anxious to get back to my girl, I moved out of the bathroom and came to a sudden stop at what I saw.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked as Tate, with the bedsheet wrapped around her, struggled to pull her panties up without exposing her nakedness.

  “Getting dressed,” she mumbled, refusing to make eye contact.

  “Kind of a waste of time, don’t you think?” I asked as my feet came unstuck and started in her direction. “I’m just gonna rip them off you again as soon as I get my strength back.”

  Having successfully gotten her underwear in place, she started pulling the top drawer of her dresser open and rifling through it. “It’s getting late,” she continued to mutter with her back to me. “You should go.”

  “The hell’re you talking about?” I grunted. “I’m not going. I’m not done with you by a long shot.”

  “Like I said,” she continued, working a T-shirt over her head, “it’s late. I’m tired.” Once she got her left arm through the sleeve, she let go of the sheet, allowing it to fall to the floor and exposing the skin of her back to me for the first time. And what I saw made my blood run cold. I’d had her completely naked beneath me only minutes before, but I hadn’t gotten to savor every smooth, creamy inch like I’d wanted, so I missed it.

  “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” I growled angrily just as her shirt fell into place.

  “No, I’m not kidding,” she said, oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere as she slowly turned to face me. “I need to get to sleep, and I can’t do that with you—” She stopped talking when I grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her back around, yanking the shirt up past her waist. “What are you doing?”

  “You fucking covered me?”

  Tatum’s body locked up tight at the accusation in my voice. “Declan—”

  “You fucking covered me?” I barked, staring down at the brightly colored flowers that spanned the small of her back. Flowers that covered the words she’d had inked on her skin the same time I had her inked on me. ‘He’s my storm on the horizon.’

  “Crimson” had been the first song we’d written together. It was about us, about our love for each other. It wasn’t just the song that propelled Civil Corruption into the spotlight—it had been the song that defined our relationship. That was why, back when we’d barely had enough money to buy ramen fucking noodles, we still pooled every cent we had and went to get those lines permanently etched onto our bodies.

  I still had Tate buried beneath my skin where I could see and feel her every day.

  But she’d gone and covered me up so she wouldn’t have to remember.

  “What did you expect?” she snapped, pulling from my grip and whipping around, her face awash
with fury. “Those words were a glaring fucking reminder of how you broke my heart. No way in hell I was keeping them on me. So yes, I chose to cover them up.”

  “Every day,” I hissed, stepping closer. “Every goddamn day, I stared down at those words on my hip just so I could remember you—”

  “That was your choice!” she shouted, throwing her arms wide. “You wanted to remember. I wanted to move on, and I’m not going to let you make me feel guilty about it!”

  It felt like a knife had just plunged through my chest into my heart. “And what about now?” I asked, my stomach coiling into a knot of dread.

  Her brow furrowed in confusion as she shook her head, sending the wild riot of fiery red swaying in the air. “Huh?”

  “Now that we’re back to us, what do you plan on doing about covering me up?”

  “Declan, what just happened doesn’t change anything,” she stated firmly, driving that fucking knife even deeper, and twisting it for good measure.

  “Jesus Christ, Tate! I just had my cock buried inside you five goddamn minutes ago. That changes everything!”

  “It was a mistake!” she cried in return. “It never should’ve happened. If I didn’t drink so much earlier, it never would’ve—”

  “Don’t,” I seethed. “No fucking way I’m gonna let you blame being drunk on what just happened. You wanted it just as goddamn much as I did, and you’re full of shit if you claim otherwise.”

  She lifted her chin in the air defiantly, while at the same time crossing her arms over her stomach in a protective gesture. “Fine,” she admitted. “I wanted it. I won’t lie about that. But that doesn’t change the fact that it was a mistake. One that will never happen again.”

  “That’s such bullshit,” I gritted out, doing my best to hold onto my fury while I slowly died inside. It was like being a child and having your parents give you your favorite toy, only to rip it from your hands minutes later and smash it into a million pieces. The loss was agonizing, which only made my temper that much worse.