20. Olivia #3
Declan kissed his way down my body, unaware he’d casually dropped the most romantic sentence of my life.
He found the tip of my breasts and sucked until I was shaking and gasping beneath him.
He tortured me with his tongue, drew moans out of me with his fingers.
And when I didn’t think I could take any more, he moved to my other breast. And then to a sensitive spot on my rib.
All the while he murmured profane compliments I couldn’t quite hear against my skin.
I was so lost in his words and his touch, it took me a beat to come back to earth enough to realize what he was about to do.
My heart almost stopped.
“Oh, you don’t have to…” I said, but he was already peeling my panties off and positioning his face between my thighs.
He inhaled appreciatively and kissed my hip.
Was it possible to die of lusty anticipation? Because I thought that might be about to happen to me.
“What’s that line that turns you on?” Declan murmured, his breath caressing my inner thighs. “‘Be kind to your man, and give me a taste of what I’d die for?’”
“That’s not… He wasn’t talking about this,” I said, flustered and turned on all at the same time.
Declan grinned up at me, wickedly playful. “How do you know?”
And then Declan lowered his mouth to me, and I lost my train of thought entirely. He was touching me, tasting me, and letting out ragged moans like I was the one doing him the favor.
Was I breathing? It was possible I might have stopped breathing. Air didn’t feel necessary when his mouth was doing that. When he eased two fingers inside me and did something magical with his tongue, I came undone.
Electricity shot up my spine, and thunderbolts of ecstasy exploded inside my head. For a second, I couldn’t see or hear, pleasure washing over me as I clutched the headboard with one hand, and Declan’s hair with the other.
He looked up at me, grinning.
I gasped, thighs quivering. “That was… I mean…”
“You’re welcome,” he said, cocky as all hell.
Normally, I would have taken him down a peg for a comment like that, but I felt too damn good. He deserved to be arrogant about that. He deserved a medal for that, and possibly a tickertape parade.
Declan moved away, and cool air washed over me.
“Where are you going?” I asked, twisting toward him. I wasn’t ready to let him go, even for an instant. In all honesty, I didn’t know if my body could handle more, but that didn’t mattered. I wanted as much as I could get, the consequences be damned.
“Condom,” he said. He snagged a packet from his bedside dresser and dropped it on the pillow beside me. Then he added another two for good measure.
I laughed. “Isn’t that a little optimistic?”
“I feel very optimistic right now,” he said, wrapping a hand around my waist and pulling me toward him.
I giggled, feeling gloriously feminine. “Do billionaires have fancy designer condoms, or do you use normal ones like everyone else?”
He smothered a laugh and kissed my neck. “Absolutely. Designer condoms. Made of gold dust and orchid petals.”
I giggled, but then his mouth found mine, and I wasn’t laughing anymore. There was something too unguarded, too reckless, about the way he was kissing me. We’d agreed this would be a fun, casual thing. But in this moment, I could have sworn I mattered to him. That this mattered to him.
That it mattered to me.
I shoved the dangerous thought aside and gave myself over to the sensation of Declan’s body against mine. His lean muscle. His hungry mouth. His clever, clever fingers.
I learned things about him too.
When I skated my hand over his chest and down his stomach, his breath hitched. When I placed a gentle kiss above his heart, he pinned my wrists to the bed and kissed me with savage passion. And when I moaned his name while my fingernails scraped his back, he damn near lost his mind.
He tangled his fingers on my hair, locked his eyes on mine, and used his free hand to guide himself home. I held my breath as I felt his hard length against me.
Then Declan slid into me with a single thrust.
I threw my head back and moaned. My hands shot to his back, and I dug my fingernails into his muscles hard enough to draw blood, every cell of my body desperate for him.
As he rocked inside me, our eyes met, and for a second the world seemed to still. It was just me, and him, and the way the chandelier light backlit him, so that he looked like some kind of fallen angel.
And then I hauled in a jagged breath, and the world started moving again. I watched with awe and hunger as Declan moved over me, in me, with me, finally losing every last shred of his control.
It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t get enough of him like this, open and unguarded.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded. Or maybe begged. His voice coiled itself around my thoughts, and he moved my hand between us. “I want to watch you come while I’m inside you.”
I nodded, something in me responding to his wildness.
The pleasure was already so overwhelming, but I showed him how I liked to be touched when I was at my most sensitive.
Together we found a rhythm, until it became too much, and I moved my hand so that I could cling to him, gasping as the pleasure rose and rose until all I could do was feel, as Declan cried out and gave a savage thrust.
When his greedy hands wrung a final orgasm out of me, I followed him over the edge with a secret beating in my heart—If I spent even one more night in his bed, I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from falling for Declan Byrne.