His jaw flexes, blue eyes searching mine like he’s testing every line we’re about to cross. “Are you sure?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes. I want this. I want you.”
The restraint he’s been holding onto snaps like a cord pulled too tight. Declan’s mouth crashes into mine, a force of nature I can’t resist. His kiss is hungry, his tongue demanding, sliding past my lips with an urgency that makes my pulse race.
My hands move instinctively, roaming over the hard muscles of his chest. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me closer, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, “You’re so beautiful, Charlie.”
My chest tightens, my stomach flipping at the words. His lips trail down my jaw, lingering at my throat as he presses a slow kiss there, sending a shiver through me. I arch into him, a soft moan escaping as his mouth finds the sensitive spot just below my ear, while his fingers tease my breast through my shirt.
His rough jaw scratches softly against my skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of his mouth, leaving a trail of fire that makes me ache for more. I want him closer,needto feel his skin against mine.
My fingers fumble with his belt, trembling with anticipation as I tug down the zipper of his jeans. He’s already hard in my hand, and I stroke him slowly, savoring the way he moans my name, his head falling back.
He pushes me back onto the bed, his eyes dark and heavy with desire as he takes in my body.
Under that gaze, my pulse skips in my throat. His hands move to my shirt, pulling it over my head, then he unhooks my bra in one quick motion.
My breasts spill free, and he wastes no time, his mouth closing around one peak, his tongue swirling, sucking, driving me wild. I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair, urging him closer.
He teases the other nipple with his fingers before trailing kisses down my stomach, his stubble scratching softly against me and sending goosebumps racing across my skin.
My breath hitches as his mouth hovers over the waistband of my leggings. His eyes lock with mine before his fingers slip beneath the fabric and slide everything down my legs, leaving me bare.
His tongue is slow, deliberate, starting at my inner thigh, inching closer to my core. I squirm as he presses a kiss to my clit, my breath catching in my throat.
His tongue dips into my wetness, tasting me, savoring me. He moans against my skin, the vibration sending sparks through my body. His fingers join his mouth, sliding inside me, filling me, while his tongue flicks relentlessly against my clit.
“Oh,” I gasp, my body tightening. He moans against me, the sound pushing me over the edge. My back arches, my criesfilling the room as my orgasm crashes over me, pleasure tearing through every nerve.
I’m trembling, breathless, when he finally pulls back, his lips swollen, his eyes glazed with desire.
My body buzzes and aches for him; I need him so badly I can’t stand another second of waiting. I reach for him, pulling him up to me. I kiss him deeply before pushing him onto his back.
I straddle him, careful of his injured leg. My hands grip his thighs as I lower myself onto him, inch by inch. His moan fuels my fire, a primal sound that makes me want to take him harder, faster. But I resist, savoring the way he stretches me, fills me completely. I pause, letting the fullness sink in before rising and falling, my hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
His hands grip my waist, guiding me, his breath coming in sharp gasps.
“You feel so good, Charlie,” he murmurs, his voice rough, and I pick up the pace, every thrust stealing my breath. His fingers find my clit, rubbing circles as I move, sending me spiraling toward the edge again.
“Declan… I’m—” My words are cut off by a cry as my orgasm hits, harder this time, my walls clenching around him. He curses, his hips bucking, his control snapping as he follows me over the edge, his cock pulsing deep inside me.
We collapse in a tangle of limbs, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close. His breath evens out, his heart still pounding against mine.
“Jesus,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my forehead. “You okay?”
I laugh softly, my fingers tracing the lines of his face, memorizing every detail.
“You’re going to ruin me, you know that?” he says, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
“Pretty sure that was a joint effort,” I murmur, feeling my own smile spread.
His hand slides up my back, holding me tighter, like he doesn’t want to let go.
I snuggle closer, listening to the steady beat of his heart as a deep, quiet sense of peace settles over me. His fingers trace lazy patterns over my skin, each soft touch making my eyelids grow heavier. Wrapped in his warmth, I finally let myself drift, sleep pulling me under to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
The next morning, light filters through my curtains, the kind that makes you want to stay under the covers forever. It could be any ordinary Saturday morning—except for the six-foot-three hockey captain stretched out beside me, bare-chested, arm heavy across my waist.
Declan Tremayne. In my bed.
