Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
HOLLY
Snowed in Some More
I had never felt so empowered, wanted… sexy.
That was how he made me feel as I rubbed his cock against my clit, using him to pleasure myself.
My eyes locked on his, enjoying the way his pupils were so wide, so eager, watching how I was using him.
A gentle tremor went through my body as my sensitive clit enjoyed the attention.
It was too much. I needed him inside me.
I slowly pushed him into my pussy with a gasp.
He was thick and long, a cock to be proud of.
He stretched me to capacity, and from this angle, he was driving me wild before we’d even gotten started.
“Fuck,” I breathed and sheathed him completely.
I placed my hands on his chest, trying to leverage myself over him so I wasn’t crushing him with my weight.
His hands splayed over my squishy stomach, and I felt a pang of panic.
But one look in his eyes was all it took to know he wasn’t thinking about how fat I was.
“Declan,” I whispered, rolling my hips experimentally and watching his eyes flutter closed. “Look at me.”
His eyes snapped open again, dark and hungry, and the raw desire I saw there made my confidence soar. He wasn’t thinking about my stomach or my thighs or any of the things Derek had made me self-conscious about. He was thinking about how good this felt, how much he wanted me.
“Fuck, Holly,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my skin. “You’re so fucking tight and wet and perfect.”
Perfect. The word sent desire straight to my pussy, soaking him even more.
I moved my hips, finding a rhythm that made us both pant, rising up until he was almost completely out before sinking back down.
The angle hit something inside me that made my body quiver in ways I had never experienced before.
“More,” Declan rasped, his hands sliding up to cup my breasts. “Use me for your pleasure, Holly.”
“Ah!” I exclaimed as the permission to be selfish, to focus on my own pleasure, was unexpectedly liberating.
I picked up the pace, chasing the building pressure low in my belly, my hands braced on his chest for leverage.
He thumbed my nipples in time with my movements, sending jolts of pleasure straight to where we were joined.
“God, watching you ride me is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he groaned. “So beautiful. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
I leaned forward, my nipples brushing his chest as I captured his lips in a kiss before I pulled back and giggled. “I think I know.”
He chuckled and gripped my hips, holding me slightly raised so he could take over and slam up into me. The sudden change in rhythm stole my breath, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.
“Yes,” I gasped, my head falling back as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter. “God, yes, just like that.”
He maintained the punishing rhythm, hitting that perfect spot inside me with every thrust. His eyes never left my face, watching every expression of pleasure that crossed it like he was memorizing them.
The intensity of his gaze made me feel exposed in the best way possible—seen, wanted, worshipped.
“Come for me, Holly,” he demanded, one hand leaving my hip to circle my clit with his thumb. “I want to feel you fall apart on my cock.”
The combination of his words, his thumb on my clit, and the relentless pressure inside me shattered what little control I had left. I came with a cry that probably echoed through the entire forest, my pussy clenching around him in waves that seemed to go on forever.
“Fuck, Holly,” Declan groaned, and sat up, wrapping his arm around my waist and flipping us over before I’d come down from orgasm. How we didn’t fall off the narrow bed was a Christmas miracle if I’d ever seen one.
I choked out a laugh at his smooth move, which dissolved into a moan of pure lust as he buried himself inside me up to his balls.
I could barely breathe as he drove into me with deep, measured strokes that made my toes curl.
His weight pressed me into the crappy mattress, grounding me in the reality of this moment—that Declan Hayes, super lawyer, unfairly hot, was actually inside me, making me feel things I’d forgotten I could feel.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him deeper, meeting each thrust with my own.
The bed creaked beneath us, but I didn’t care if it collapsed entirely.
Let the whole cabin fall apart around us.
All that mattered was the delicious friction, the way his cock stretched me past my limits, the building pressure that promised another earth-shattering orgasm.
“Harder,” I demanded, my nails raking down his back. “I need more!”
Something in him snapped at my words. He grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand while the other gripped my hip hard enough to bruise. The dominance, the raw possession in the gesture, made me clench around him.
“Like this?” he rasped, pounding into me with a force that made the pitiful headboard bang against the wall. “This is what you want?”
“Yes!” I cried out, my back arching off the mattress. “God, yes!”
His mouth found my neck, sucking and biting in ways that would definitely leave marks. I didn’t care. I wanted them. I wanted proof that Declan Hayes had made me his, even if only for this stolen afternoon in a cabin while the world outside disappeared under snow.
“Mine,” he growled against my throat, the possessiveness in his voice sending me spiraling toward another climax. “Say it, Holly. Tell me you’re mine.”
The demand should have triggered every defensive instinct Derek had left me with—every warning about men who wanted to claim ownership, who saw women as possessions.
But this wasn’t that. This was Declan asking me to acknowledge what we both felt, to admit that whatever was happening between us was real and significant and worth naming.
“Yours,” I gasped, and the word unlocked something in both of us. “I’m yours, Declan.”
He came with a guttural sound that was barely human, his body shuddering against mine as he buried himself as deep as possible. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside me triggered another orgasm, weaker but still intense, rippling through me in waves that left me boneless and gasping.
We stayed locked together for several moments, both of us breathing hard, the only sound in the cabin besides the howling wind outside and the crackling of the fire in the next room.
Slowly, carefully, he released my wrists and shifted his weight, so he wasn’t crushing me, though he made no move to pull out or put distance between us.
And then the guilt crashed down on me that we did this, and I didn’t tell him about the interview for my dream job back in Chicago.
But I pushed it aside. If he went back to New York, it wouldn’t matter if I was here or there, would it?
We lay tangled together on the bed, listening to the storm rage outside and carefully not talking about what had just happened. My thoughts raced, trying to find something to say. In true Holly Winters fashion, I panicked and blurted out, “I might be going to Chicago in the new year for a new job.”
Silence.
And then a soft snore hit my ears.
“Seriously?” I muttered while staring at the ceiling, listening to Declan’s soft snoring beside me, and tried to decide whether I should laugh or cry at the cosmic timing of it all.
I’d just had the most mind-blowing sex of my entire life with a man who made me feel seen and wanted and absolutely perfect exactly as I was.
I’d told him I was his—actually said those words out loud like some kind of romance novel heroine.
And then, in a moment of panic-induced honesty, I’d confessed about the Chicago job opportunity.
To his sleeping face.
Because apparently, Declan Hayes was one of those people who could fall asleep immediately after sex, like his body just shut down the moment the endorphins hit. Which was both adorable and incredibly inconvenient when I needed to have an important conversation about our respective futures.
I turned my head to look at him, taking in the relaxed lines of his face, the way his dark hair was mussed from my fingers, the satisfied curve of his lips.
He looked younger when he slept, less burdened by whatever was weighing on him.
Less like a high-powered lawyer having a career crisis and more like the boy I’d had a crush on as a teenager.
The boy who’d apparently had a crush on me, too, according to Matt.
God, what a mess.
Outside, the storm showed no signs of letting up.
If anything, the wind had intensified, rattling the windows and making the old cabin creak in ways that suggested we weren’t going anywhere.
I shivered and decided to get up and dressed before I died of the cold.
Slipping out from Declan’s arms, I pulled the covers up over him and grimaced.
They were a bit useless. I grabbed his expensive cashmere coat and threw that over him as well, with a nod of satisfaction.
Getting dressed hurriedly, ignoring the cum that soaked my panties, I felt better once I was pulling my coat back on and creeping quietly towards the dying fire in the other room.
A quick glance showed me that we weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. The snow was coming down like a sheet.