“Does it feel good?” I ask when the kiss comes to an end.
Declan squeezes his eyes closed and rests his forehead against my shoulder. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” he says with a groan.
A smile spreads across my face as my fingers dig into his hair, holding him closer and wishing I could preserve this moment forever.
“Can I move now?” he whispers.
I nod. “Yeah.”
As he eases away, he hooks an arm under my leg again. Then he pulls out to the tip and slides slowly back in. The expression on his face is pained as he moves. Then he starts to pick up speed as if he can’t help himself.
The faster he moves, the better it feels. My entire body starts to buzz, and when Declan latches a fist around my cock, I let out a grunt of pleasure.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters. “Your arse is strangling my cock, Shakespeare. I won’t be able to fuck anyone else ever again after this.”
“I’m yours, remember? This arse is yours,” I say between panting breaths.
“Yes, it is,” he replies as he slams into me harder. “All fucking mine.”
As he picks up speed, I am lost to the current of this passion. Then he pushes me backward until I’m reclining on my elbows. And with one minor change in the direction of his thrusts, Declan hits a spot inside of me that has me whimpering again.
“Oh God,” I moan as I melt into the granite countertop. He’s stroking my cock to the rhythm of his thrusts, and the faster he moves, the more intense my pleasure becomes.
“I can’t take it anymore,” I shout. “Fuck, Declan. I’m gonna…”
I never finish my sentence. My orgasm hits me like a storm, stealing the words straight from my chest. Warm, wet drops of my own cum land against my chest.
Declan practically roars as his release hits him. He thrusts hard two more times before stilling inside of me. I feel his cock pulse and twitch as he unloads into the condom.
Then, we’re both useless heaps of flesh. He drapes himself over me, and I lie flat as the dead on the counter. My cheeks hurt from where Declan was driving them into the counter, but up until this point, I couldn’t feel a bloody thing. My legs ache. My body is cold and sticky from the ocean water and sand.
But none of that matters. Because I just got everything I ever wanted. I’m not a virgin anymore. I just had sex with my best friend and quite possibly the love of my life.
Nothing could hurt me now.
Chapter Twenty-One
Colin
“Hold still,” he mutters from behind the easel.
“How much longer? This is so boring,” I groan from the couch.
“You got somewhere better to be, Shakespeare?”
“I’ve been lying here for three hours, Declan. Can’t you just use a photo?” I ask.
“A photo isn’t the same,” he replies. “The light and angles don’t look the same in a photo. I’m almost done. Just be patient.”
His brow furrows as he scribbles fiercely with charcoal on the easel. The corner of my mouth tugs into a smile as I notice Declan’s tongue peek out of his mouth. He always does that when he’s really concentrating.
Then his eyes cast over to me, and I quickly hide my smile.
“What?” he asks, catching me.
“Nothing,” I reply, trying to keep my expression neutral.
With as much as Declan and I have done together physically, we’re not in a place romantically for me to tell him how cute he is when he’s painting. His shaggy brown hair hangs over his forehead, in desperate need of a cut. His long eyelashes flutter as he works, blinking heavily as he sketches on the canvas. The wayhe concentrates creates wrinkles in his forehead and between his eyes, which are so handsome and endearing.
