I hum with pleasure as I latch onto him, letting my head hang to offer him more of me. He can have it all. “I wasn’t sure if we were going to just…” My voice trails with hesitation.
He moves his ravenous lips from one side of my neck to the other, traveling up to my earlobe to take a gentle bite that makes me whimper.
“Just what?” he asks.
“You know. Just jump back into this,” I answer.
He pulls away and stares at me with his head tilted to the side. “Is this a problem?”
In a panic, I grab his neck and haul him toward me. “Fuck no.”
Then his lips are on mine, and he’s kissing me with ferocity.
It’s almost embarrassing how much I’m grinding against him, but he’s encouraging it. Grabbing my ass, he drags me against him, using me to find friction for his own dick.
We’re tearing at each other’s clothes as he backs up toward the bedroom. When his legs hit the bed, he falls backward, and I quickly climb on top of him, straddling his hips and kissing him hungrily.
I love the feel of his hands on my hips. The size of his body beneath me. The softness of his chest hair against my fingers.
I’m grinding against him when he starts fumbling with thezipper and button on my pants.
“Get these off,” he says. “Now.”
I love his commands. God, I’ve missed them. No one could do it the way he does. And I’ve tried. This was the year I finally did what Declan told me to, and I tried dating other guys. I looked for more dominant men in hopes that I’d find someone who made me feel half as good as Declan does. No such luck.
My pants are off in a split second, but when I hesitate with my briefs, I glance up to see what he does. He tears everything of his off until he’s naked, and I smile to myself, pulling every stitch of clothing from my body. Before I climb back onto the bed, he moves to his knees to face me.
“Come here,” he commands.
I rush onto the bed to face him, and he pulls me in for another kiss. His hands move to my hips again, and he guides my movements, making my body grind against him. How is something so subtle so damn hot?
“God, I missed you,” he mumbles against my mouth. His hand traces up my back and then down to my ass, squeezing the round globe tightly in his fingers.
“I missed you too,” I reply with a whimper.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, and I tense for a moment. There is absolutely no telling what he’s about to say, and I find myself feeling more hopeful than I probably should.
Tell me you don’t want this summer to end.
Tell me you don’t want to say goodbye.
Tell me you love me.
“What?” I reply.
“I haven’t been with anyone since last summer.”
I freeze, pulling back with my lips parted. “Really?”
He nods. “I don’t know if it was because last summer was so fucking good or because we’ve just had so much going on with my family, but I haven’t done a single thing with anyone since you.”
I’m frozen. What does this mean? What is he trying to say?
“That’s why I didn’t want to do any sightseeing first. I needed this, Shakespeare. It’s just so easy with you.”
“Right,” I mutter in response. I’m not disappointed, or so I tell myself. I should be flattered. I’m the person Declan is most comfortable with. The one to scratch that itch.
“What about you?” he asks, and I stiffen.
