His hands travel to my jeans' waistline. They graze the base of my butt and I gasp.
"You're wearing too many clothes," he says, fingers toying with the jeans.
"So are you."
"This isn't about me tonight."
His fingers go around. I lift my body to give him some room. He pops the button, slowly dragging down the zipper. He pulls down the jeans. Then he removes my underwear, his fingers glide down my skin, sending waves of electricity into me.
By the time I'm lying on the bed naked, my breathing is almost erratic. I'm trembling from so much desire.
He kneads from my calves to under my butt. I gasp when his fingers trace around my butt, creating sensation I never knew existed. His hands squeeze gently, like he's molding it, every touch sending ripples of desire inside me.
I'm getting wet for him. I need more than what he's giving right now. Much more.
"Dec..." I breathe out. "Declan..."
"Can I turn you over?"
I nod, and he helps me shift onto my back. The way he looks at me like I'm art. Like I'm precious and he has been waiting his entire life for this moment. It makes my eyes sting with unexpected tears of happiness.
"Tell me if you want me to stop at any point for any reason," he says, settling between my legs. "Okay?"
"Okay."
Starting from my shoulder, his hands run down to my breast, touching, exploring. By the time they touch my nipple, I don't know how long I've been moaning.
This is a wondrous sensation I've never experienced.
His fingers glide down to my belly button, then to my legs, kneading. My thighs tremble around his hand. I grasp his hair, fingers tangling in his hair as I try my best not to fall apart.
His fingers touch my clit, his piercing gaze meeting mine with an unspoken question.
I nod. "Please."
He smiles, then begins to explore. When his fingers brush my clit, my thoughts dissolve into static. When they slide inside me, gentle and sure, I cry out.
I arch my back, my body craving more.
As if reading my thoughts, he adds another finger, stretching me carefully while his mouth claims mine, kissing me deep and unhurried. His other hand rests on my thigh—firm, grounding—keeping me tethered as my body threatens to spiral out of control.
The pleasure builds and builds until I’m sure I can’t take any more.
I hear his breathing—steady, controlled—in stark contrast to my ragged gasps.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
And I shatter.
The orgasm crashes through me like a wave, stealing my breath, my thoughts—everything except the sensation of Declan’s hands and mouth guiding me through it.
He presses kisses to my lips, my cheeks, my throat, the base of my neck. His fingers move slowly, coaxing the aftershocks until I whimper.
"Again," he says against my neck. "Give me another one."
"I can't..."
"You can." He finds some spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. "Come on, beautiful. One more."
