The sound I made was not dignified.
Declan lifted me like I weighed nothing and set me on the counter. My legs wrapped around him on instinct. He kissed me deeper, tongue pushing into my mouth, beard scraping my skin, hands kneading my ass through my jeans with enough force to make heat pool between my thighs.
I rocked against him and felt him hard against me.
“Bedroom,” he said against my mouth.
“I want to taste you first.”
His fingers dug in.
I pulled back enough to look at him. “I mean it. I want that.”
For once, his control showed a crack.
“Then upstairs.”
We barely made it.
He kissed me against the wall halfway up. I yanked at his shirt. He pulled mine over my head in the hallway and left it there. Tiny followed us with the destroyed duck in his mouth, then tried to come into the bedroom until Declan pointed down the hall.
“Out.”
Tiny froze.
“Bed,” Declan said to him.
Tiny huffed, deeply offended, and flopped in the hallway with his back to us like he planned to file a complaint.
Declan shut the door.
After that, there was no pretending we were moving slowly.
We stripped each other with impatient hands. His jeans hit the floor. Mine followed. He stood in front of me naked, big and hard, tattoos shifting over muscle as he breathed. I had seen him like this before, touched him, been under him, beside him, wrecked by him.
Still, the sight took my thoughts and flattened them into one clean want.
I got on my knees.
Declan’s hand went to my hair, but he didn’t push.
I wrapped my fingers around his cock and stroked him once, learning the weight of him again. He was thick, flushed at the head, already slick at the slit. I leaned in and licked him there, tasting salt and heat, and his breath left him in a rough exhale above me.
“Jace.”
I liked my name like that. Not praised. Not warned. Stripped down.
I took him into my mouth.
The stretch made my jaw ache almost immediately, but it was good, grounding. I used my hand where my mouth couldn’t reach, slicking him with spit, working him in a rhythm that made his fingers tighten in my hair. I looked up and watched his face because I wanted to see what I did to him. Declan Reid, controlled, disciplined, unshakable, staring down at me like I’d put a fault line through him.
I pulled back, licked along the underside, then took him deeper.
“Easy,” he rasped.
I ignored that just enough to make him curse.
His hand flexed, not forcing, just holding. I cupped his balls, warm and heavy in my palm, rolling them gently while I sucked him. When I took one into my mouth, he braced a hand on the dresser and tipped his head back.
