Chapter 73

Ollie’s POV

My hands itch to obey his commands, but I still myself. Before we start anything, shouldn’t we discuss consent and safewords? I’ve read enough fanfiction by now to have a basic understanding of the rules. And to me, another important thing we need to talk about it my mask.

As he looks at me, waiting, he starts to lift a single brow. I hate to disappoint him but I need to advocate for myself here.

“Uh…” I stumble forward. “Don’t we need some kind of… contract?”

His second brow raises to join the first. “What did you expect we would be doing today?” he asks, some amusement in his voice.

My face burns hot. “You talked about… surrender…”

“You think you are ready for that?” he asks. He takes one step closer, enough to loom over me. It’s intimidating, but I’m not threatened or scared. Instead, my desire buzzes under my skin and I want.

I lift my chin a little in defiance. He’s looking at me with curiosity and some bemusement, not really taking me seriously in this.

“Consent and boundaries are important,” Declan says. “I intended to be gentle with you today, but if you believe you are ready for more…”

My face impossibly burns even hotter. I’m sure I’m as red as a cherry tomato.

“Hugh said you were a virgin,” Declan says.

“I… was,” I say.

“You have some idea of what things would be like with me… To give up control to me. “

“I… uh… do.”

“How?” he asks, and something shifts within him. Suddenly he’s not so amused. Though his emotional shifts are incredibly subtle, right now, he seems annoyed.

My heart hopes for jealousy, but I know better than to assume that. Even as his fated mate, I’m sure his heart is closed off to that sort of thing. I’m not sure Declan even believes in love.

“I read about it,” I tell him.

“You… read about it…” he parrots.

“Yes.”

He leans back on his heels, and that annoyance that had been in his face disappoints entirely. The bemusement is back. I’m glad for it, but again, I wonder… could it have been jealousy after all?

Maybe not jealousy. Maybe… possession.

“What are your boundaries?” he asks me.

“Uh…” I pushed for the question but now that it’s here, I don’t really know how to respond. I haven’t done anything, so I don’t know what I will or won’t like. “Maybe we could… start slow… I don’t know.” I bury my face in my hands. I’m so embarrassed.

Things seemed so simple when they are words written on a page. But in the moment with Declan in front of me, it’s all so real.

“Starting slow is my intention,” Declan says. He considers a moment. “Think of a safe word. If I hear that word from you, I will stop, no matter what we are doing.”

“You… won’t be mad?” I ask.

“No,” he says so definitively that I believe him without question.

“Okay…” I think for a moment. This is more difficult than I thought. “Uh, pineapple.”

“Pineapple,” he says and nods. That’s that. “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”

“No…” I say at first, but then remember my mask. “Yes.”

He waits.

“Uh…” I touch my fingers to my cheek. “My mask has to stay on. Please.”

“Very well,” he says.

This is important, so I press. “Do you promise?”

He stares at me a beat, looking straight into my eyes. “You anonymity is important to you. My brothers have already told me that. I will not touch your mask. You have my word.”

That’s enough for me, so I nod.

“Now,” he continues. “Are you ready to move forward?”

My desires start building once more, especially as his gaze drops down to my breasts. I nod.

“Take off that nightie,” he says firmly. “Let me see those perfect tits you’re hiding.”

Slowly, I reach my hands up and slide the sleeves off of my shoulders. The nightie first drops to my waist, but with a little tug, it slips over my hips and falls down, pooling at my feet.

I’m wearing a special bra and panties for Declan. They are both black lace, somewhat translucent.

His gaze zeros in onto my nipples, which harden under the weight of his gaze.

His hands twitch, like he’s eager to tough. But he holds himself back. I wonder if, for him, this is a matter of control not just over me, but also over himself.

I eagerly await his next command, ready to get naked for him.

“Slide you hand into your panties and play with your clit,” Declan says instead.

Swallowing hard, I place my hand on my belly, and then slowly drag it down, slipping it beneath the waistband of my panties. Inch my inch I bring my fingers down, before I slide them through my folds and at last tough myself.

I whimper at the sudden burst of pleasure, at touching myself, at having Declan watch my face.

I’ve touched myself before, many times, but it’s hotter somehow with him watching. With him directing me. Even though I’m the one touching myself, he is commanding my hand.

“That’s it,” he says. “Good girl.”

I moan at the praise. How rarely do I receive praise anymore, especially from the quadruplets. To hear Declan give it now… It hurts as much as it pleases me.

“Now,” he says. “Slide your other hand into your bra and play with your nipple.”

I do as he demands. Raising my free hand, I slip it beneath the lace of my bra and cup my right breast. For a moment, I simply squeeze and massage.

“Rub the nipple,” he commands. “In time with how you are rubbing your clit.”

I do, and, “Oh…”

“Those are my hands on you now,” he says.

My moans grow louder. “Ah… Mmm…”

Glancing at him, down at the front of his pants, I see his growing erection. It makes me feel powerful, knowing the sight of me is effecting him like this. Yet, he remains in control of all things, and makes no effort to touch himself.

“More,” he says. “Bring yourself right up to the edge. But don’t you dare go over it. Not yet.”

Worrying my bottom lip with my teeth, I push myself harder, bullying my clit and my nipple, imaging it is Declan’s hands on me. All while I’m under his watchful gaze.

This is so hot… Gods, I’m already close.

But I won’t go over, not yet. I’ll keep myself on the edge, just as he commands.

“Mmmm…” It’s almost too much. I forget myself for a moment. “Ah, Declan…”

Gently, he says, “Call me Sir.”

“S-sir,” I say, fire rushing all over my skin. “Please… I’m so close.”

“You want to cum?” he asks. “You think you deserve that?”

“P-Please…”

He hums. “I do like the sound of you begging.” He pauses a moment, then says, “You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you?”

Calling me a slut should upset me. Instead, it has the opposite effect, and my mouth drops open with the wave of want that rolls over me.

“You are my slut, do you understand?” he asks.

Hastily, I nod my head.

“S-sir, please!”

“You will cum when I tell you to,” he says.

I whimper again, more fiercely than before.

“Keep touching yourself. Don’t you dare slow. But don’t come either.”

I do as he commands, but it’s so difficult. I feel like I’m pushing right past my limits.

“Sir! Please!” I cry out, unable to take much more. It’s so much, too much!

“Now,” he says. “Cum for me. Now, slut.”

My orgasm crashes over me in an instant, as if brought on by his command.

My knees go weak, but in an instant, he is there, catching me.

“Good girl.”