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[For Declan] Quick fix and heartbeats, gets me so easily
It's been days since she's seen him. Since the day she took Will's baseball. It's not...it is because she's been avoiding him, but not because of the sex. Or him caring. Or her caring. She just..
She'd needed to do this alone.
Kate had needed to take the things she did, replace them the way she did. Will would say she was 'working through' something. Maybe. Or maybe she just needed to screw up and get caught so she could remember how that felt. Or maybe it was the same thing. Whatever it was, Declan couldn't have ridden shotgun on this one. He'd have stopped her and she'd have let him.
She doesn't want him to be her prison warden. To have to hold her leash. To have to clean up after her and she knows he will if she lets him. But it's okay tonight. The mess is managed, same as the mischief. It's on her head and no one else's.
Tonight, Kate doesn't want Declan for something. She just wants Declan.
He's not there when she gets to his hut. She could let herself in, but she won't. Instead, she parks her ass on the porch stairs and waits. If anything, the peace and quiet's kind of nice. The stars don't look familiar, but when she looks up at them, they're beautiful anyway.
*Title and lj-cut lyrics from The Sounds' Queen of Apology.
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"Damn right." The whimper from his hand squeezing her ass kind of wrecks her cool on that. She decides she doesn't give a fuck, slides her arms around his neck and pulls herself up to kiss him and wrap her legs around his hips.
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Tonight, he's just going to give them both what they need and he drops them to the bed, propping up on his elbows to keep his weight off her. She's slight, even if she doesn't always seem that way because of the attitude.
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She tips her head back, stretching her neck and offering it while she twines her legs with his. Maybe she's not going to say Look, Ma, no marks but she's thinking it. Except... It's not really a smartass move. Kate's trying damned hard not to say C'mon, babe, give me yours.
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He's not biting out of rough pleasure and leaving a mark. He's just plain marking her.
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Between trying to remember to breathe and whimpering, "Fuck, babe, you know I do," it hits her that maybe he needs to hear it. She opens her eyes and tugs his head up so she can see his. "Like this with you."
Truth, truth, all this fucking truth. It's like ripping the shitty wallpaper off sheetrock to expose the mess beneath.
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No marks here, just teasing and making her feel good, and Declan's not the the sort to play around too much until he gets to the point of things but damned if she doesn't make him want to change his standards.
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Her back arches, pushing her breasts to his mouth while she splays her thighs for his hips or his hands. He has great hands, thick strong fingers, but she's not feeling picky. "So good."
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"Want me too?"
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"Declan, babe, you've got your fingers in my twat. I'm dripping all over you. I can't stop telling you how good you feel." She grins at him and shakes her head, glad weirdly for the break from the intense emotion. "What do you think? Do I?"
Just in case he's not getting the picture and he thinks she only means his body she lifts up the rest of the way to put her arms around his neck. "Yeah," she says softly and kisses him again. "I want you, Declan. I want you."
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"Fuck, you feel good."
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They come back, when she remembers how to breathe. She wants to say he's really sweet. No one's ever been sweet like this to her and she doesn't know what to do with it. That's gonna wait, now, though, and it comes out a husky, "Wouldn't be here if I didn't want it. Blanket permission--ah, godyeah--" she rolls her hips under him, adjusting. "For any part of you you want to put in any part of me, Declan. Any."
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His mouth finds her neck again, scraping and sucking another mark as he moves in her.
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What she means is she's coming apart at the seams.
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She gives as good as she gets, though, and it's been a long while since Declan's been with a woman like that.
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It's not even an O that has her shaking under him, even though that's coming soon and she winds her leg up higher to get more friction. She's been wound so tight, and now he's unwinding her from the inside. Taking her apart. It scares her a little. Fuck it scares her a lot. "Want you," she whispers, finally answering his question, simple and true but not easy. "Declan, please."
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He sucks hard against one shoulder, a tiny bruise already blossoming beneath his lips and wonders if Kate minds it terribly that he's been marking his territory all over her since they started.
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Later, Kate's pretty sure she's going to freak out about why she can't be quiet in bed with him. And about that damned always and Katie that are noisier than she is. In this moment, she's just hoping he won't mind her drawing blood now with the first too-loud cry when she clenches down around him, head thrown back and coming hard. Coming apart.
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"Christ, Katie. Just...fucking hell, is it always going to be like that?"
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She stretches her arm out to touch him, then rolls up to her side. "Like what, babe? Best you've ever had?" she tries out, but the smirk falls flat and not even the husky, sex-raw tone of her voice can hide how soft it is.
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"Pretty damned close, I'd say. You're always brilliant in bed, though."
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"Always," she starts but gives up before she gets there and just nods, forehead against his shoulder. She's not going to cry. She's not. But she can't fight him and herself at the same time.
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