“It doesn’t hurt.”
“What dirty things should I mutter to get you off?” He palms my bare ass, bringing me closer to him.
“That you can’t wait to be inside me.” I spread my legs wider. “That I’m tight and wet and I make you fucking crazy. That . . . you love me.”
“Poppy, all that shit’s true.”
“Then stick your fucking dick in me and say it.”
“You’re such a romantic.” Declan doesn’t hesitate, sliding his cock straight inside me. My eyes involuntarily flutter from the hedonistic pressure. The pressure I’m constantly in pursuit of. The pressure I crave solely from Declan. His cock fills and stretches me in the most gluttonous way. Like it’s trying to consume me. Just like his kisses.
“Stay with me,” he hums in that hypnotic tone. “I want you with me always.”
“That isn’t what I told you to tell me.”
“I’m going off script.”
“Always the rebel.”
“You’d get tired of me in a second if I wasn’t.”
“True.”
“Hey.” He abruptly restrains himself, stilling inside me. Pinching my chin gently with his thumb and index finger, he lifts my face. “I love you.” The words reverberate through my whole body, like an underwater eruption. I’m soaking wet and aching like I never have before. Clamoring for Declan and only Declan. It’s the strangest sensation. A raising Cain of my emotions. He’s everything I never wanted. A man who makes no demands. Who respects my independence. Who accepts me for what I am. A hunter, a killer, a lone wolf. A damaged woman still licking the wounds from her past.
Declan drops his hands to my breasts and massages, gliding the pads of his thumbs over my nipples, taking his time, savoring my indulgent reaction. My pussy throbs around his cock from the titillating sensations. He isn’t moving, he isn’t fucking, he’s just being. Letting the carnal need of our bodies do all the work.
“Shit, that feels good.” I lean back onto my hands and give up control of all of my senses. I’m at his mercy now as much as I’m here of my own free will.
Declan dips his head and replaces his fingers with his mouth. Licking and teasing my nipples with the tip of his tongue. A ring of fire ignites in my core, and I start to rock my hips. Declan still refuses to move, hellbent on tormenting me with desire.
“You’re so fucking tight and wet. You drive me fucking crazy.” He bites my right nipple, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to my core.
“Oh.” I tense, the walls of my pussy tightening, and the slow burn intensifying. My heart starts to pound like a warning drum as Declan concentrates solely on the highly sensitive erogenous zones.
I don't know when the change happens. It’s like a simple light switch turned on an entire nuclear power plant.
The sensations just sneak up on me. A shattering moan escapes from my lips, thenbam!I explode out of nowhere. A powerfulOthat just keeps coming in raw, intense waves.
I fall apart in Declan’s arms, caught in a vicious circle of death and resurrection.
“Fuck.” He grabs my hair, right by the nape of my neck, and begins to thrust. Strong, powerful, hammering thrusts that are so penetrative they cause my eyes to tear. When he finally comes, it is all primitive man. A visceral release that traps him in elevating, agonizing perfection.
“Damn,” is all I can mutter once my breath returns and my vocal cords begin working again.
“Yeah.” Declan kisses my shoulder and neck and lips lackadaisically, like he’s stoned out of his mind. “See why we need to be together? We fit. We work. We set off fucking sparks.”
“Sparks? That felt more like a stick of dynamite.” I touch his face, dragging the tips of my fingers over his lips, feeling their softness, and the sweet, wet remnants of our kisses.
“How ’bout I take you to bed and make you explode all over again?”
I love the sound of that. I’d much rather be preoccupied all night than stare at the ceiling. Sleep was never in my future.
“Under two conditions.”
“What are those?” Declan lifts me off the dresser. There are now scratches in the wood floor from us fucking on top of it. They give me a warped sense of satisfaction. If it were up to me, I’d light a match and burn this entire fucking place to the ground. One day, perhaps.
“One, you talk dirty to me. Two, you keep telling me that you love me.”
