Chapter 21
21
Jade
T ears blur my vision as I look up at him, his green eyes searching mine, his expression raw and open in a way that makes my heart ache. I don’t know when I started crying, but I can feel the wetness on my cheeks, warm against the cool air of the cabin.
“You have no idea how you make me feel,” I whisper, my voice trembling but steady enough to carry the weight of what I’m saying. “I do feel safe with you, but it’s so much more. I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.”
His hand cups my face so gently it makes my chest tighten, like he’s afraid I’ll shatter if he presses too hard. To be fair, it’s entirely possible I will. His thumb brushes away a tear, his touch leaving a trail of warmth against my skin. For a moment, we just stay like this, the silence between us charged but not uncomfortable. Our silence speaks louder than words, filling the space with everything we’re too scared to say out loud.
Then, slowly, he leans in. His lips brush against mine, soft and tentative, as if he’s giving me one last chance to pull away. But I don’t. I press into him, closing the distance, and the kiss deepens, turns desperate and full of everything we’ve been holding back. His tongue finds mine, the two dancing against each other in a battle for dominance. I’m still sitting on his lap, and I can feel his desire literally grow underneath me, but he doesn’t push me.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer, and I feel like I’m melting into him, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist beyond this moment. It’s just us. His lips, his hands, the heat of his body against mine. My hands slide up to his shoulders, my fingers threading through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and I let myself get lost in him.
The kiss turns more urgent, his hands moving down my back, pulling me flush against him. Every nerve in my body feels like it’s on fire, and I can’t think straight. All I know is that I want him. Here. Now.
“I need to feel you inside me,” I say, breathless. Without a word, he gets up, clearing our plates and drinks off the table and moving them over to the kitchen island. He stalks back over to me and grabs my hips, lifting me up so I’m sitting on the edge of the table. He stands over me, his large body dwarfing mine, his hard-on tenting underneath his jeans. I quickly undo his belt and pants, pulling them down with a desperate urgency to touch him, to taste him. I look up at him with innocent eyes as I carefully stroke his dick. He lets out a long moan, his hands slamming down on the table beside me to support his weight.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he jokes, as I sink down to the floor and pull him as far into my mouth as he’ll go, covering the rest of him with my hands, not letting a single inch of him go untouched.
“Fuck,” he groans, his hand moving to tangle in my hair. “You’re so fucking good at that.”
I’m nearly choking on him now, lost in the excitement of bringing him pleasure, but he grabs my hair firmly, pulling me away.
“As good at that feels, I need to be inside of you,” he breathes. “It’s been too fucking long.”
I nod, slipping off my clothes and moving back onto the table, my legs spread wide for him. I’m desperate for him, aching for him, and he doesn’t keep me waiting.
He thrusts inside of me easily, my pussy already so wet for him. He pulls at my legs until they’re resting against his broad shoulders. He moves deep inside of me, slowly at first, torturously. I open my eyes to look at him and he’s smiling, a big shit-eating grin that tells me he knows how good this feels.
But I don’t want slow right now, and I tell him so. I reach one hand down between my legs, touching my clit. I move my other hand to grab and pull at his lovely locks, egging him on to go wild on me. I cry out, writhing and squirming as he picks up his pace, slamming into me with each thrust. He grabs my hand, holding it against my leg, as if to tell me that he’s got it covered. I lay back against the cold, hard table and let him show me exactly how proficient he is, screaming out with each new thrust.
Our bodies rock together, quickly slickening from sweat as the cabin seems to heat up around us. I hold onto his hand with one hand while the other wraps in my own hair, just to find some purchase, to keep me grounded. Whenever I open my eyes to look at him, he’s staring at me with unbridled lust, nearly salivating.
I readjust, moving my legs so they’re wrapped around his waist, pinning him against me, pulling him deeper. I pull him down so he’s covering me, his chest moving against mine as he continues his deep exploration inside of me. I’m so wound up and so emotional, it doesn’t take much longer for him to completely undo me. The moment his hand moves between us to massage my clit, my body begins shaking with the force of my orgasm. He can’t hold on much longer, but he doesn’t stop his movements until I see stars behind my eyes.
“Holy shit,” I breathe after a moment, my eyes slowly starting to readjust to the room around me. “That was, by far, our best round.” I laugh, propping myself up on my elbows to meet his lips.
He pulls me off of the table toward the fire, pulling me down onto the fuzzy rug and covering my body with kisses. We lay on the floor by the fire later, the heat of the flames wrapping around us as we catch our breath. I’m tucked against his side, my head resting on his chest, and his fingers trace lazy patterns along my arm. I feel weightless, like all the burdens I’ve been carrying have been stripped away, if only for a little while.
My stomach growls suddenly, loud enough to break the comfortable silence, and I laugh, burying my face against his chest.
“Guess I worked up an appetite,” I mumble, my cheeks flushing.
Declan chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “Was dinner not enough for you?” he teases, his hand sliding up to brush a strand of hair from my face. “Come on. Let’s get you fed.”
I groan in protest, not wanting to leave the cocoon of warmth we’ve created, but the truth is, I’m starving. Reluctantly, I sit up, grabbing a throw blanket from the couch and wrapping it around myself as I stand. Declan follows suit, his movements slower thanks to his ankle. He doesn’t complain, though. He never does.
We make our way to the kitchen, and I sit down at my earlier seat while he grabs my barely touched leftovers for me. Truthfully, I was too anxious to eat during his confession. Now, though, I could eat the whole damn chicken.
He laughs as he watches me devour my meal, and I let the blanket slip so that my breasts are fully on display for him. That shuts him up fast, and he just stares at me for a while, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.
“You know,” I say a moment later, breaking the heated silence. “I didn’t peg you for a guy who knows his way around a kitchen. This is really good.”
He glances at me, one eyebrow raised. “It was probably even better when it was warm,” he teases good-naturedly. “But living out here alone, I had to learn quickly. It’s not like takeout is a viable option.”
“True,” I muse, reaching my hand over to his leg as I talk. It’s a comfortable gesture, but it becomes more charged as I feel his muscles ripple under my touch.
He swallows hard as he looks me in the eye, his hand coming up to my face to move a strand of hair out of the way. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he whispers huskily. “But I want to show you everything. If you’re okay with that, of course.”
I simply nod and lean over to press my lips chastely against his.
“Good thing we’ve got time,” he says, his tone light.
“Yeah,” I agree, my heart doing a little flip. “Good thing.”
I finish my meal and we ease into lighter, more comfortable conversation. Now that our biggest secrets are on the table, it’s much easier to find a rhythm. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit how nice it is to get to stare at his body unabashedly. With nothing between us but the blanket on my lap, I get to memorize the muscles on his arms and abs. He’s incredibly fit. I can’t help but wonder if he’s got a home gym somewhere in this huge cabin. He clearly works out.
When the plates are cleared away, I turn to him, my stomach full and my heart racing. I can’t believe how keyed-up I still feel, but I can feel my nipples hardening and heat pooling between my legs again. He moves to sit on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, looking completely at ease. But there’s a tension in his shoulders, a flicker in his eyes, that tells me he’s feeling the same pull I am.
I don’t overthink it. I walk over to him and climb onto his lap, straddling him, and his hands come up to rest on my hips instinctively. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us moves. The air between us is charged, crackling with an unspoken electricity that makes my skin tingle.
Then his hands tighten on my hips, and he pulls me down against him, his lips crashing into mine. The kiss is hungry, desperate, like we’re trying to consume each other, and I lose myself in it. My hands thread through his hair, pulling him closer, and his grip on me tightens, anchoring me to him.
His hands move down my body, gripping my thighs so tightly I’m sure I’ll have bruises in the morning, but I don’t care. The only thing I can feel is my want for Declan, my need for him. And something even deeper starts to form in the pit of my chest, though I’m not totally ready to acknowledge it yet.