Chapter 21 #2
I helped her with my jeans, shoving them down along with my boxers until I was finally free. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw me, and the hunger in her gaze made my cock throb.
“Your turn,” I said, hooking my fingers into the waistband of her jeans.
She lifted her hips to help me, and I peeled the denim down her legs along with her panties, revealing every gorgeous inch of her.
I took my time looking at her, memorizing her gorgeous curves, the soft skin of her inner thighs, the way her pussy was shaven.
I groaned and spread her legs, eager to taste her.
I lowered my mouth to her, dragging my tongue over her clit in one slow, deliberate stroke.
She tasted like heaven. Her hips bucked off the bed, and I had to pin them down with my hands to keep her still.
“Declan,” she gasped, her fingers threading through my hair. “Oh god.”
I circled her clit with my tongue, alternating between gentle licks and harder pressure, learning what made her moan, what made her grip my hair tighter. When I slid one finger inside her, she was so wet and tight that I nearly lost control right there.
“More,” she demanded, her voice breaking. “Please, I need—”
I added a second finger, twisting them while my tongue worked her clit.
Her thighs were trembling against my shoulders, her breath coming in short gasps that told me she was close to losing control.
I wanted to see it. I wanted to revel in it.
I wanted to find that fucking asshole Derek and tell him what a fucking dick he was for treating her so badly.
“That’s it,” I murmured against her skin. “Come in my mouth. Let me taste you.”
“What?” she cried out, lifting her head, her eyes wide at my dirty words. “Jesus, Declan!”
She came with a cry that echoed through the cabin, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure rolled through her. I worked her through it, gentling my touch as she came down, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs.
When I finally lifted my head, she was looking at me with dazed eyes and a smile that made my chest tight.
“Fuck!” she panted, propping herself up on her elbows, before she crawled out from under me on the tiny bed.
“Where are you going?” I asked, panic hitting my chest that she was going to leave here with my dick literally in my hand.
“Here,” she purred and climbing onto my lap, before she pushed me back. “I want to suck your cock.”
“Oh,” I croaked and leaned back against the sad, saggy pillow.
I stared at her, my brain short-circuiting as she wrapped her hand around my cock. The sight of her—flushed and gorgeous and determined—made every coherent thought evaporate.
“You don’t have to—“ I started, but the words died in my throat when she lowered her head and dragged her tongue along the length of me. “Fuck.” It had been so long, too long, since a woman had given me a blow job. They didn’t want to ruin their lip blush or their fillers or whatever other fucking cosmetic procedure they’d had done to look like clones walking around Manhattan.
What was I thinking, being attracted to them when Holly was the one I wanted?
“I want to,” she said, interrupting my thoughts, looking up at me through her lashes in a way that made my hips jerk involuntarily. “I’ve been thinking about this. About you.”
The admission sent heat flooding through my veins. I tangled my fingers in her hair, not directing her but needing to touch her, to ground myself in the reality that this was actually happening.
She took me into her mouth slowly, her tongue swirling around the head in ways that made my vision blur at the edges. I groaned as she worked me with an enthusiasm that suggested she was enjoying this as much as I was.
“Fuck, Holly,” I breathed, fighting the urge to thrust deeper. “Your hot, wet mouth is incredible.”
She hummed in response, the vibration traveling straight through me, and I knew I wasn’t going to last long if she kept this up. Not after years of wanting her, of imagining exactly this scenario in increasingly desperate detail the last few days.
“Stop,” I said, tugging gently on her hair.
She froze and drew back, caution in her eyes.
“I don’t want to come in your mouth,” I murmured to reassure her.
She smiled, slowly, seductively and crawled up my body, straddling my hips as she positioned herself over me. “Do we need to have ‘the talk’?”
I nearly choked on my tongue. “I suppose we should… Do you have protection?” I asked, cursing myself for not thinking of it sooner.
“I don’t. Do you?”
I shook my head, mentally kicking myself. Of course, I didn’t have condoms in my coat pocket. I was on sabbatical in Vermont, not exactly planning for spontaneous cabin sex.
“Fuck,” I breathed, dropping my head back against the pillow in frustration.
“I’m on the pill,” Holly said quietly. “And I’m clean. I got tested after... after Derek. He cheated, so…” She chewed the inside of her lip.
The mention of her ex’s name in this moment should have been jarring, but instead it just made me want to prove to her that not all men were lying assholes.
“I’m clean too,” I said, meeting her eyes. “Got tested a few months ago and haven’t been with anyone since. We don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she interrupted, her hands bracing on my chest. “Unless you don’t want to—”
God, this was fucking awkward.
“I want you,” I said fiercely, gripping her hips. “God, Holly, I want you so much it’s driving me crazy.”
She smiled, that slow, seductive smile that made my cock throb against her. “Then have me.”
I took her hand and wrapped it around my cock, enjoying the way she licked her lips and rose up to rub the head over her clit.