Little Fury: Book 1 of The deadly Little Thing Trilogy
Little Fury: Chapter 36

I wake up in my bed, unsure how I got here. It’s dark outside. “You’re awake?”

I roll over and see Matt lying next to me. “I think so. But you being in bed with me is new, so maybe I’m still dreaming?”

“You’re awake,” he grumbles as he sits up and grabs a bottle of water, handing it to me. “Drink that,” he commands. I pull myself up into a sitting position, my back against the headboard. My brain is fuzzy as hell, but it only takes a moment before it all starts coming back to me. I go to put the water bottle on the bedside table, but I miss the table and drop it on the floor. I scramble off the bed, falling on the floor, trying to get to the door.

“Ava,” Matt calls after me, but I’m already on my feet and heading down the stairs. Caden and Ben stand up as they hear me barreling down the steps.

Caden is on his feet and at the bottom before I reach the last one.

“Where is he?” Caden doesn’t answer; he watches me, looking to see if I’m okay. “Where is he?” I repeat, letting him know I want an answer.

“I’ll take you,” Caden says, taking my hand and leading me outside. He leads me toward the ocean, and then I see him. Declan is standing in the water, looking out at it. I shake my hand from Caden’s grasp and take off running.

I’m still wobbly on my legs, and I lose my footing in the sand as I run to him. My feet scramble under me, and I get back up. “Declan!” I shout. His head whips around when he hears me call him. His eyes replace me, and he starts towards me. I crash into him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” My hands are all over him, looking for any injury I might have caused. I see a shadow near his eye and reach up to touch it. “Oh fuck, I hit you.” I step back, looking at him and seeing where else I might’ve hurt him. “I hit you,” I repeat, but he stops me, careful not to grab me and instead taking my hand lightly in his.

“Ava, I’m ok. I’ve had way worse; I promise.”

“But I hurt you. I don’t understand what that was; I wasn’t even in control of myself.”

He intertwines our fingers and kisses my knuckles. “It’s been five months since everything with Marcus happened?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” I answer.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and use my big doctor brain and say you never really dealt with any of the emotional fallout from it?” Declan says.

I don’t respond immediately, giving him a look as if I don’t understand.

Declan shakes his head at me, “Everything that happened to you that day was both physically and mentally traumatizing. I understand that you think you’re above dealing with trauma, but your mind didn’t feel the same. So many things happened to you that day, and you couldn’t stop to process any of it because you were fleeing for your life.” He brings our entwined hands to his mouth, ghosting his lips across my knuckles. “All of it–the stress of the actual getaway, the stress of starting over and constantly monitoring that he hasn’t found you, me showing up here and dropping my bombshell on you, the stress of saving that little boy, you and I getting physical–it all just finally broke the dam.”

“One minute, you were inside me, and I was there with you, and then I was back in that day. You were Jake, but I knew you were also Declan. It was like both things were happening at the same time. I couldn’t separate the past from the present. None of it made any sense. It was a jumble of pain and confusion. Then you touched the scar on my side. You ran your fingers along it; it was too much.”

Declan nods his head, not pushing or asking any more questions.

“You’ll be fine, Ava. Your brain just forced your hand. It said, ‘no more stress or hurt’ until you acknowledge the past ones.”

“I guess I need to work through a few things,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m tired.”

“Of course. I’ll walk you back, then be on my way.”

“Could you stay?”

He looks over at me. “I can stay.”

We walk back in silence, our hands still entwined.

I get inside and drop his hand, running to Matt and throwing my arms around him. I give him a kiss and tell him thank you for staying with me. I walk over to Ben and Caden, wrapping both in a hug so tight they have to tell me to let them go. “I don’t deserve you guys, but I’m so grateful I have you.”

“Go to bed, Ava. You’re being sappy.”

“Hush, Matt, I get to say this tonight because I had an emotional breakthrough. Breakdown? And because I do love you guys.”

“We love you too, Boss Lady. “

“Shut up, Ben,” I laugh. “We’re going to go to bed. You guys should head home and try and get some sleep.”

Ben and Caden tell me good night before heading to their houses. Matt looks me up and down, then sets his eyes on Declan. “She’ll be ok. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“You better.” He says as he heads to his room.

Declan turns off a few lights and then follows me up the stairs. My room’s lights are still off, so we just close the door behind us. Still in my dress, I slip it off and crawl into bed. Declan takes his shirt off and removes his sweats, crawling in behind me. I turn to face him, and he drags me into his arms. I burrow into him, breathing in his scent. I missed his scent. He smells like I remember him–citrusy, like his body wash, mixed with leather. There is an added scent of salt from the breeze off the ocean tonight.

“Sleep. We have all the time in the world now.” He tells me softly.

I wake up the next day snuggled up to a very warm Declan Campbell. I enjoy the feel of his arms around me for a moment. Looking up at him and realize I don’t care anymore. I don’t care that he lied to me; I also lied to him. I’m just happy he’s here with me and that his arms are around me again. The rest is all just background. It matters so little how we started. How we started is how we got here. Sure, having that perfect meet-cute story would be great, but would that even be us? My life isn’t exactly a rom-com-type story. We’re both born of worlds covered in blood and death. So, a lie for a lie seems very poetic for the story of our beginning.

Looking at him–no, you’re actually creepy stalker staring at him–I drink in his features. He has always been one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen. Marcus is stunning to look at, almost angelic in his perfection. But Declan is something else. Both Campbell boys have an air about them. It’s like shadow is part of their DNA. I think it comes from being near dark men and deeds their entire lives. Add in the fact that Declan is a doctor who saves little kids and that scar, and there is no escaping how attractive he is to me.

The blanket is down around his waist, and he’s on his back, so I have my fill of looking at him. He looks leaner than he did five months ago. His muscles are still hard and defined but just leaner–the last few months took a toll on him type of leaner. I run my fingers over his stomach; the sensation of him under my hand is familiar. He’s on the cusp of waking up as I drag my hand over his chest. The smooth skin and muscles there beg for me to bite them. I lean over, careful not to wake him. I kiss his chest, dragging my teeth ever so lightly over his nipple.

He makes a noise, a rumble in his chest, and I like that sound. I want to make him do it again. I kiss his skin, making a path to his neck to that spot just above his collarbone where neck and shoulder meet, letting my tongue taste him as I bring my lips to his. Softly, I sweep my mouth over his. I run my fingers along his bottom lip and see a shiver over his skin. I kiss him again. Soft and gentle, my tongue grazing over his lips. As the final hold of sleep lets him go, his mouth opens to mine, deepening the kiss.

Welcoming my tongue with a swipe of his own, and I am rewarded with that rumble again. This kiss is slow and sensual, neither of us in a rush. I bite his bottom lip, and the groan from him is my only warning before he has me settled on top of him, my legs straddling his thighs. I feel him hard beneath me as I settle on him. Leaning forward, I trace a finger along his scar, letting my fingers run over his mouth when I reach it. “How come you’ve never told me how you got this?” I ask absentmindedly, continuing to explore him with my fingertips. I run them over the column of his neck to his chest, where I trace over his tattoo.

“The story of that scar is not a story I tell. One day, which isn’t today, I’ll tell you about it.”

Sitting up, he shifts us backwards to rest his back on the headboard. Kissing my mouth, I feel a hand on my throat, his thumb dragging along my jaw, forcing my face up more to meet his. His tongue opens my mouth, seeking mine. He slides his tongue over mine, and I moan.

His hands grip my breasts roughly, and I arch into them. Rolling my nipples between his fingers, tugging them, pinching them, sending little shocks of pleasure through me. His mouth is everywhere. His mouth, teeth, and tongue claim every piece of exposed skin. Every nip or swipe of them sends shivers across my body, all of them pooling between my thighs.

My underwear is a flimsy barrier between us, Declan has nothing on, and I can feel him hard between us. My wetness has long since soaked through the lace, leaving me to drench him.

I place my hands over his on my breasts, tightening his grip on them and wanting that bite of pain to go along with the other sensations. I roll my hips over him, dragging my wetness along his hard shaft. His mouth is back on mine, and his kiss is hungry; his need is palpable. His tongue in my mouth is unyielding.

Declan’s last threads of self-control snap; there are no more gentle or tender touches. A hand slides between us, cupping my pussy and lifting me off him slightly; his fingers push my underwear to the side as he sinks two into me. A sob breaks free from my throat at the intrusion. I move my hips, grinding myself onto his hand.

“Fuck, you’re gripping my fingers so tight,” he grounds out through gritted teeth. Raising me a little higher, I feel him fist himself. I watch him as he watches his fingers as they enter me, as he pulls them from me only to plunge them back in. I can see my wetness on his fingers dripping down his hand.

He tears his fingers from me and lines his cock up with my entrance, slamming me down onto him. I throw my head back and choke out a strangled cry when he fills me so violently. “Fuck, Jake again.” He lifts me from his cock, and just when I think he might slip from me, he slams me down over him while he thrusts up into me. I cry out; the pleasure and agony of him driving into me so callously sets my body on fire.

My orgasm is building fast as I watch him. He’s lost in his punishment of me. His fingers dig into my flesh harder with every thrust of his hips. I slide my hand down my body, my fingers stroking my clit. Declan watches my hand as I work myself, bringing my orgasm closer. He keeps fucking me, his eyes locked on my movements. A deep noise rumbles in his chest as my pussy clenches around his cock; that noise is the last straw. My orgasm explodes over me.

My pussy is still clenching him when he grips my waist and flips us so he’s on top of me. A hand digs into my hip while the other wraps around my throat. Declan fucks me hard, hammering into my body, his hands grasping me tighter. The pressure on my throat and the pummeling of my clit against his pelvic bone rips another orgasm from me. Declan cums hard, his voice scratchy as he says my name.

He releases me, and I suck in a full breath of air. He collapses on my chest, his breathing is ragged and panting. I bring my hand to his hair and run my fingers through it as I catch my breath. He lifts his head from my chest and looks at me. “Are you ok? Was I too rough?”

I can’t stop the laugh. “I’m fine. That was intense. It was good.”

He rolls off me and pulls me into him. He kisses my face, then kisses my mouth sweetly, humming as he does. “Why Jake?” I blurt out, and he stills against me.

“Umm? What?” he asks.

“Why the name Jake?”

“Oh, Jacob is my middle name.” I nod at his answer. “Why was that something you needed to know right now?” he asks, amused.

“Because I can’t seem to call you one name in my head. I’m pretty sure when we were in the middle of fucking, I called you both.”

“You did. But I’ll respond to either. So, feel free to call me Jake or Declan. I understand that I will probably always be Jake for you. I’m good with that.”

We lay wrapped up in each other. I fall asleep with his scent on my skin and all around me. He is intoxicating to me—he always has been. From the moment I met him on the side of the road, I was enthralled.

I’m unsure how long I sleep, but Declan is staring at me when I wake up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he says, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “Just needed a second to remind myself this was real, not a dream. When you left me, I dreamt about you every night. When I couldn’t replace you, I thought I’d lost you for good.”

“You’re here. You found me.” I sit up and move over to kiss him gently, putting everything I feel into that kiss, hoping he can feel what I can’t say: that I’m so happy he found me, that I feel complete again, that I love him. I want to tell him, but I have never uttered those words before, and the thought of them scares me.

I bring my mouth to his, no rush to my intention. His eyes close as my lips brush against his. Declan’s hand cups my cheek, and I nuzzle into it, placing a kiss on his palm as he runs a thumb along my bottom lip.

He slides his arm around my waist hugging me close, as he rolls us and lowers me onto my back. His care of me in that simple movement is heart-stoppingly gentle. I open my legs for him, and he settles between them. We both let a breath loose, our eyes locked on each other as he slowly pushes inside me. Our movements are intentional, full of purpose and reverence.

Declan entwines our fingers, pressing our hands into the mattress, his other hand grips my hip. My legs wrap around his, and I trail my fingers up and down his spine, feeling his muscles moving under his skin as he makes love to me.

That’s what this is. My heart and body feel it, but the words still elude me.

“I love you, Ava.” He breathes the words out against my lips.

“Declan,” I gasp against his.

Our kiss goes from tender to urgent and raw in the space of a single breath. Our bodies move against each other. Both of us driving the other closer to their peak. He reaches between us, rubbing my clit slowly, pressing down on it just enough. He knows my body, knows how to make it do what he wants.

“You’re going to come with me,” he tells me.

“Yes.” I gasp, not being able to do anything different even if I wanted to. It may be my body, but he owns it just the same. He slams into me hard and presses down on my clit at the same time. The most exquisite fire floods my body when my orgasm hits. I feel him thicken as he cums and my body tenses as we tumble over that sweet edge together. Still inside me, he places his forehead on mine.

“Mianach.” he says and then he kisses me lightly on my lips before he slides out of me, rolling beside me and pulling me onto his chest. His arms surround me as his fingers run up and down my spine.

“What does that mean?” I ask him. He looks at me, confused for a moment.

“Mianach?”

“Yes.” I answer.

“It’s Gaelic for ‘Mine’.”

I can’t help but smile at that. The thought of him claiming me as his makes me feel warm inside.

“Good morning,” he says against my mouth.

“Morning, Declan.

“I like hearing my name on your lips. Ava?”

“Hmmm?”

“I love you.” He says to me. A tear slips down my cheek. “Why are you crying?”

“Not sure,” my voice breaks, “but I promise they are happy tears. I was sure I would never see you again when I left you in LA. And it broke my heart. I broke my own heart when I left you. I could see a whole other life with you, but I had to leave you instead. And now here you are, telling me you love me, and I don’t know how. I don’t understand how I got you back. I don’t deserve you. I’m a bad person. I do bad things. I enjoy the bad things I do.”

“Ava, I love you. You. The good and the bad, all of it, all of you. So, it doesn’t matter if you think you don’t deserve it because it’s mine to give you, and I give you my love freely. No restrictions, no strings, no rules, no demands. Bad deeds and all.”

I nod at him. “Bad deeds and all.” He smiles at me.

“All right, woman, we need food.”