I can feel his smile against my skin.
“You,” he says matter-of-factly. The simple, one-word answer nearly takes me out at the knees. “I wantyou, Elsie. In any way I can have you.”
And that’s what it all comes down to, doesn’t it? It doesn’t matter that I hardly know Declan. It doesn’t matter that when we first met, he got under my skin in a way nobody else has, pushing all of my buttons and driving me crazy – while also making me wonder what his strong, tattooed hands would feel like on my body.
It doesn’t matter that it’s scary and unexpected. Because he wants me, andoh, how I want him.
I’m tired of pretending I don’t. Tired of fighting it.
I finally turn around and he shifts, settling his hands on the low shelf that runs along the length of the planter box, effectively caging me in. “Then take me,” I tell him, my voice strong and sure. Because for once, Iamsure. About this. About him.
I watch as the meaning of my words registers, his eyes flashing with the promise of sinful things to come. When he steps closer and leans down, I rise on my tiptoes to meet him halfway, our mouths crashing together in a searing kiss. The sense of rightness that settles over me like a warm blanket when his lips meet mine should be studied.
Declan keeps one hand on the shelf next to my right hip and settles the other against my lower back, pressing me closer until our lower bodies are flush, deepening the kiss in a way that makes heat swirl low in my belly. His tongue caresses mine and suddenly, the need to touch him is strong. I grip his biceps and squeeze for a second before running my palms up over his shoulders and across his hard pecs. I itch to feel the heat of his skin beneath my hands instead of the soft cotton of his T-shirt.
As if able to read my thoughts, Declan lets go of me and grabs the bottom hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. He drops iton the grass beside us and immediately slides his arm back around me, tucking my body in tight against his. I settle my hands back on his chest and my mouth nearly waters at the canvas in front of me. He’s a work of art, his muscled torso covered in an array of black designs and a smattering of dark hair. And is that –oh.Sean wasn’t lying to me. One of Declan’s nipples is pierced with a small metal barbell. I don’t have time to appreciate it, though, because suddenly Declan’s mouth is on my neck, his lips and tongue against my skin making every thought in my brain scatter.
When I grip his shoulder, my nails biting into his skin, Declan groans against my throat and presses closer. There’s no mistaking the hard length of him between us, but with our height difference, it’s not quite where I need him.
A frustrated little whimper escapes me and Declan chuckles against my skin before pulling back. His eyes meet mine and they ping-pong back and forth a few times, searching for something.
“You’re sure about this?”
I take a few seconds to consider the question, but if I’m being honest, there’s not much to think about. Sure, it’s only been forty-eight hours since our first kiss. But when you consider all the months prior that I’ve spent pining after him, and trying to pretend otherwise – it’s long overdue.
So, yeah. I’m sure.
I’m just a girl, standing in front of a guy, asking him to fuck her in a greenhouse, or whatever it was Julia Roberts said.
“Positive,” I tell Declan, and that’s all he needs to hear. He grips my hips and lifts me, setting me on the shelf he’s had me pressed against. It’s just deep enough that I can perch comfortably without fear of falling off.
This time, when Declan steps closer and my legs slide around his hips, locking him in, his hard length presses into meexactlywhere Ineed him. I tug his mouth to mine, my fingers tangling in his hair, and he grinds against my clit in a slow, torturous circle that sends shockwaves up my spine. “Yes,” I breathe against his lips.
Without breaking our kiss, Declan reaches down and tugs at the bottom of my dress, bunching it up around my hips. When his hand dips between my legs and he feels the silky material of my panties, already soaking wet for him, he groans into my mouth.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his fingers stroking me through the material. I arch against him and spread my legs wider, my head falling back on a gasp when his thumb finds my clit.
“God, yes. Right there.” He presses his thumb against me and circles it once, twice, before tugging my panties to the side for better access. When he presses down again, the sensation of his skin against metherealmost makes me come on the spot. I grind against his hand shamelessly, chasing the orgasm that’s hurtling toward me at breakneck speed.
“Are you going to come for me?” His voice is low and delicious, a deep rumble in his chest. I’ve never been one for dirty talk – it was actually a turnoffwith my ex – but something about hearing Declan’s low voice in my ear while he touches me is really doing it for me.
“Such a pretty little thing, rubbing your pussy against me. Taking what you want,” he murmurs. He presses his lips against my neck, just below my ear. Then he pulls back, eyes blazing as his gaze rakes over the piercing he put in my ear just a handful of days ago. “It’s hotter than it should be, seeing you with a piece of jewelry that I put on your body.”
Heat licks up my spine and I toss my head back, stifling a moan. “Keep talking,” I urge him. “Please.”
Declan’s mouth is on again me a moment later, taking advantage of the exposed skin of my throat. He sucks at the spot just above where my neck meets my shoulder, and I shiver.
“I’ve been thinking about this since the day we met,” he breathes against my skin. “Been dreaming of getting my hands on your body. Wondering what you taste like. Thinking about what that sassy mouth of yours would feel like wrapped around my cock. Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” Declan nips at my collarbone while he continues expertly strumming my clit, and I arch against him again. “I need you to come for me first. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I whimper. “Please.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for, but Declan does. He sinks a finger inside me and I groan at the stretch, a need I didn’t even realize that I had being met. Because of course Declan knows exactly what my body craves, even when I don’t.
He slides his finger back out and rubs my clit, spreading my slickness around and using it as a lubrication. When he sinks two fingers back inside me, his thumb moves quicker against that aching bundle of nerves, helping me chase the orgasm that’s still just slightly out of reach. Declan pumps his fingers out and back in, agonizingly slow, until he curls his fingers and hits something inside me that has pleasure zapping up my spine.
I cry out and Declan’s mouth crashes down onto mine, swallowing the sound. His tongue strokes against mine at the same tempo as his fingers, and I melt against him.
Declan surprises me by grabbing my braid with his other hand and wrapping it around his fist. When he gives it a gentle tug I gasp, the bite against my scalp a surprising but welcome sensation. He pulls back and grins at me, a feral, wolfish gleam that reminds me of a predator ready to finally capture its prey.
“Let go,” Declan commands. His thumb presses against my clit at the same time he tugs on my hair, and my orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave. He fucks me with his fingers while I come, and that delicious, tingling heat spreads from the base of my spine all the way up to my scalp. As I ride out wave after wave, Declan’s eyes never leave mine, watching me unravel at his touch while he murmurs things like, “That’s it, baby,” and, “So pretty when you come for me.”
