I lift the fabric up his chest. He takes it from me, ripping it off and letting it fall, his mouth catching mine in a kiss that’s harder now, hungrier, like something inside him has also been bared.
His callused hands scrape my shoulders to the ties at the back of my neck. His lips never leave mine as he tugs them loose, and the moment the fabric slips away, cool night air licks across my skin. My nipples tighten instantly—sharp, needy points that ache for his touch.
He kisses a line down my throat, stubbled jaw burning a track in my skin. He trails lower, breath coming in hot plumes against the swell of my breast. My toes curl against the stone. I rise onto them, lifting into him, offering. Begging.
He groans, low and broken, then closes his lips around one aching peak and sucks.
A moan punches from my lungs like it’s been tucked inside my chest waiting there, waiting for him.
My spine bows. My fingers dig into his shoulders, nails scoring flesh. His free hand finds my other breast, thumb brushing the tight bud in slow circles, over and over, until my legs tremble.
Pleasure pools low and deep, heat slick between my thighs. Every pull of his mouth draws more from me. Every breath makes me needier, more desperate.
He releases my breast with a soft, wet pop that makes my knees shake. His tongue flicks once more over the peak then he drags his mouth back up to mine. His hands slide lower, fingers scorching a path along my ribs, tracing the dip of my waist and the curve of my hips with unbearable patience.
Rough fingers find the knots of my panties on either side of my hips. One tug, then another, and the ties unravel in his hands, whispering against my skin as they fall open. The fabric slips down my thighs in slow surrender, catching briefly at my knees before pooling at my feet.
When he sinks to the ground, rough palms sliding down my ass, the breath leaves my lungs in one violent rush.
“Spread your legs for me,” he rasps, his hands anchoring at my thighs.
My body listens before I can think, hips tilting, feet parting in silent invitation.
He pulls me closer, presses his mouth to the inside of one thigh. The sandpaper scratch of his cheek against my soft flesh shoots hot sparks beneath my skin. The heat of it coils deep in my belly, spreading lower, dripping between my legs.
I reach for the altar to steady myself, fingers curling against the warm stone.
He looks up at me from under his dark lashes, hair wild and damp, delicious mouth curved in a sly smile that makes my stomach clench. “I’ve been dreaming of this every goddamn night. What you smell like.” With a sharp inhale, he drags his nose through my wet heat. “What you taste like.”
I don’t get the chance to respond. His mouth is already on me.
He licks a long, flat stripe through my slickness. He groans into me, and the vibration rocks straight through my core, stealing the breath from my lungs. I clutch at his hair, fingers twisting in the damp strands, tugging without meaning to.
He sinks his fingers into the meat of my thighs, holding me open, holding me steady. His mouth is relentless, tongue flicking and rolling and dragging until I’m shaking, panting, grinding against his face.
“Oh—fuck—Declan—”
He seals his mouth around my clit and sucks.
Lightning bolts through me. My back arches, and a strangled moan tears from my throat as my orgasm hits, wave after wave crashing through me. I pant his name, begging without knowing what I’m asking for as I shatteron his tongue. His strong hands hold me there—mouth latched, fingers gripping, feeding off every twitch and cry that rips out of me.
When the stars fade from my vision, and I can finally remember how to inhale, he rises.
His face is flushed, his mouth wet, his eyes so dark there’s no light left.
“If I had to die between those thighs,” he growls, licking his bottom lip, still tasting me, “it’d be the best fucking ending I could ask for.”
My body clenches around nothing, desperate and wet, already aching for more. That line shouldn’t do what it does, but I am ruined.
I lunge for him and crash my mouth to his. I taste myself on his tongue, and I suck, dragging a guttural sound from his throat. My teeth scrape his bottom lip, and I bite down until he groans into my mouth, hands flying to my hips.
I want to devour him. Or be devoured.
The ties of his pants resist for half a second before they give way beneath my fingers. I dip my hand inside, skin already fever hot, and curl my fingers around the base of his cock. He’s so thick, velvet stretched tight over steel.
I drag my hand up the full length, then use my thumb to circle the swollen tip, which is already leaking for me.
He snarls against my mouth, hips jerking, and starts to back me toward the bench.
