“Yes, please. Hurry.”
Instead of urgency, he responds with a teasing, glacial pace. “These?” He lifts himself off me and pushes the jeans down a few tantalizing inches. “You wanttheseoff?”
Who knew this usually serious man could be soplayful?
I reach up and trace his bottom lip with my finger. “Smiling looks good on you.”
“I only seem to do it around you.” He shoves his jeans off the rest of the way.
When he finally settles his big body between my thighs, I wrap my legs around him, drawing him closer.
He drops his forehead to mine as if he’s checking in. I lift my hips in answer.
With an achingly slow slide, he thrusts into me, the stretch and fullness stealing my breath. His piercings grazing every single secret pleasure zone. He buries his face against my neck and traces his tongue over the sensitive skin, adding to the sensations overwhelming me. His movements are slow at first, building in intensity.
I lift my hips, meeting him, chasing more and more friction. Heat spirals through me, fast and electrifying. The bed creaks beneath us but doesn’t slow Declan down one beat. Our slick skin on skin, my breathy whimpers, and his low groans fill the room.
Tension coils tight in my core.
His thrusts deepen, measured and relentless, driving me closer to the edge. My body tips past restraint, past thought.
The room blurs.
For a split second, it isn’t his ceiling above me. It’s ironwork.
Black gates slick with rain.
Rust biting into lace gloves.
A woman’s mouth opens in a scream that never makes a sound.
Blood-soaked sheets.
Ink bleeding across skin.
Names etched in stone.
A door slamming shut.
An iron key dropping into dark water.
My body shudders hard, the image snapping away as pleasure crests, white and blinding. I cry out, hips jerking as release explodes through me, every nerve lighting at once.
Declan groans against my neck, thrusting once more before going still, his breath ragged, his weight solid and comforting as the last wisps of the strange visions scatter like smoke.
The room comes back in pieces—the bed, the walls, the heat of his skin.
His arms lock around me, holding me through endless aftershocks, almost as if he senses how close I came to slipping somewhere else entirely.
“Emery,” he breathes against my neck. He drags his lips over my cheek to my forehead. “Are you okay?”
“I saw stars.”And lots of other things.“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” I reach up and rub the little wrinkle on his forehead. “I’m up for anything your brilliant mind comes up with.”
“Anything, huh?” He drops a kiss on my forehead and rolls sideways.
“Within reason.”
He laughs softly and pulls me to his side. Dragging a pillow closer, he encourages me to cuddle against him. Using the pillow as a barrier between his inked skin and my cheek, I settle in and throw my leg over his.
