26. Declan
DECLAN
“You are doing so well,” I praise Astrid as I ease my finger all the way into her wet heat, then out, then in again as she gives a soft moan.
“There’s just… one… spot…,” she says breathily.
“Tell me where,” I say, keeping my voice calm and firm. Dammit, she has a painful point.
She’s propped on her desk again. This time, her dress pants are crumpled on the floor, and I haven’t even shrugged out of my suit coat jacket.
The music from the pregame party in the hockey arena parking lot drifts up to us. We only have a few minutes before the interview we are scheduled to do together.
But she gave me a sexy little smile and then bit her bottom lip, and I hoisted her up on her desk, kissed her, and she shed her pants.
What’s a guy supposed to do when his wife is naked from the waist down and begging him to make her come? I hit my knees and gave her an orgasm with my tongue, of course.
Then she asked me to finger her. I’ll never say no to that.
“Right side,” she pants. “But it’s not bad. Keep going. Please.”
I pull my finger out, then ease it in again slowly and not as deep.
She grasps my wrist. “No, don’t go slow. Don’t let up.”
“I won’t hurt you,” I tell her. I circle my thumb over her clit. “I can still make you feel good.”
Those gorgeous blue eyes lock on mine. “You are. You always do.” Her grip tightens on my wrist. “I want to try two fingers.”
My heart stutters. She’s so fucking trusting.
And brave. We have to keep going if we’re going to ever have actual penetrative sex, and I know that’s where we both want to get.
But we’ve been sticking with mouths and one finger so far.
And God help me, as much as I want her, it’s been good. I’ve loved giving her pleasure.
“I could be happy making you come like this over and over the rest of my fucking life, Astrid,” I tell her intently. “Making you feel good, making you come apart, making you cry out my name is enough.”
She presses my finger deeper. “I’m glad. But that’s not enough for me. I want all of you.”
As always, my cock is throbbing, being with her like this, and those words make heat surge through me.
“Christ, you are so fucking incredible,” I tell her, sliding my finger out and then adding the second at her entrance. It will be more of a stretch, and she’s willing. She widens her thighs, her hips lifting toward me, even as I simply circle her entrance.
“You going to let me stretch you?” I ask, easing in to just my first knuckle. “Do you want to take more of me, Gorgeous?”
“God yes,” she practically whimpers.
I lean over and kiss her. She’s covered from the waist up, the fitted cream-colored tailored vest buttoned over her gorgeous breasts, her hair only slightly mussed from the perfect wave she put in it in front of the bathroom mirror at home.
She’s going to have to reapply her lipstick, but I’ve been careful not to mess up the rest of her makeup.
From the waist up, she looks like the perfect wealthy, classy, in-charge hockey team owner that the press is expecting, and that I know her to be.
But waist down, she is the hot, wanton, needy woman that makes my entire body hard, my pulse race, and every one of my filthy dreams come true.
“That’s my girl,” I say, my voice gravelly as I slide both fingers into her slick tightness.
She hisses out a long breath but then smiles up at me. “That feels good.”
“You feel like heaven,” I tell her.
Just then there’s a knock on the door.
She jumps slightly, and I press my fingers a little deeper, giving her a wicked grin.
The door is locked tight, and everyone knows we’re in here together.
I brush my thumb over her clit. “Answer them,” I tell her softly.
“Yes?” she calls.
“There are a couple of reporters looking for you.” Nora’s voice comes through the door. “And the crawfish boil is starting. People are waiting for you.”
I ease my fingers out and then back in and circle Astrid’s clit again.
She moans softly then calls out, “We’ll be there in a minute.”
I press a little more firmly on her clit. “A minute? There’s my Firework.”
Her hands fly up to cover her face as she giggles.
“Start the boil without us!” she adds.
I flick over her clit in reward.
“Okay, see you down there,” Nora replies.
“We should hurry,” I say, moving my fingers in and out, so pleased she takes the stretch.
“I don’t want to,” she tells me softly. “Declan?”
I brace my unoccupied hand on the desk next to her hip and lean in, pressing my lips to her neck. “We can’t leave everyone waiting.”
“But I want you.”
“You have me.” I move my hand, reminding her.
She pulls back, her eyes meeting mine. “I mean all of you.”
Her meaning crashes into me. “You want…my cock?”
I almost choke on the last word. Only because I want that so much. And because I thought we were so far away from that.
“So much,” she breathes out.
My hand has stalled between her legs, but I feel her pussy clench around my fingers. “Now?” I clarify.
Again, her inner muscles tighten around my fingers. “Yes.”
I’ve made it a conscious habit not to question her in these matters. But considering where we are, and when, this time I say, “Are you sure?”
She wiggles her gorgeous hips against my hand. “I know it’s really naughty, but I want you so much. I’m so ready.”
Maybe the setup is part of why she’s ready. She shared that she’s had fantasies about desks and the two of us. I know she likes my suits. I grin down at her. Giving her whatever she wants, whenever she wants it, is my mission in life. “You can always have whatever you want from me.”
She gives me a smile that says I gave her exactly the right answer.
“Then I need more than your fingers right now.”
I withdraw my fingers from her perfect pussy and lift them to my mouth, our gazes locked as I suck her sweetness from my fingers fully before I shrug out of my jacket, unbuckle my belt, and open my pants.
“If we’re going to do this on your desk before a game with more than half the town waiting downstairs,” I say, spelling it all out, playing into the impropriety of the moment. “Then I’m not going to be able to fully undress.”
I push my briefs out of the way and let her take a long look at my throbbing cock before I take it in my fist and give it a long stroke.
She’s still lying back on her desk, and her eyes are fully dilated, her cheeks flushed a gorgeous pink.
She nods and tells me in a husky voice. “I understand.”
I step forward, teasing her slick opening with the head of my cock, and nearly going to my knees at even that much contact.
“Firework, you may not be the one going off quick this time.”
She gives me a sexy, playful smile. “The always-in-charge Declan O’Grady might lose control?”
I slide a hand up her thigh and squeeze. “You obliterate everything I thought I once knew about myself.”
Her smile grows even brighter. “I probably like that too much.”
I run the head of my cock up and down her slit again. “You can like that as much as you want.”
“More, Declan,” she says, wiggling against me.
I start to press forward, the head of my cock sliding just inside when a thought occurs and I pause. “Hold on.”
I quickly extract my wallet from my pants pocket and toss it onto the desk. I flip it open one-handed and withdraw the condom I tucked inside with high hopes. I lift it to my mouth, tear it open with my teeth, and then roll it down my aching length.
I lean over swiftly and kiss her hard. “Now I’m ready.”
“Declan,” she says against my mouth.
“Yes,” I say.
“Fuck me.”
A shudder goes through my body, and I press against her. I know that I need to take this slow. She’s been doing so well with everything we’ve been doing. I know that with my fingers and the dilatators, she can take a lot of stretch, but we still have to go slow and easy. This is new.
But as I slide forward, she is wet and hot, and there is a little resistance. I pull back to look at her when I am about halfway in.
She’s breathing fast but meets my eyes.
“You feel incredible,” I tell her honestly, instead of asking how she is.
I have to trust she’ll tell me. I have to give her agency here. I have to let her have this.
But it’s killing me. In two ways. One, not constantly asking how she’s feeling and if she’s fine and if it’s good. God help me, this has to be good.
I am also fighting every instinct to slam my body into hers and fuck her harder than I have ever fucked in my life. My body needs hers. Telling her she feels incredible is an immense understatement. She feels like she was made to wrap around my cock and absolutely suck pleasure out of me.
She nods quickly. “I’m good.”
I stop. That is not a declaration of bliss.
I pull back slowly as I’ve done with my fingers. She takes a deep breath. It seems almost relieved. I stay there, only about an inch inside.
She is focused on my chin, breathing deeply.
“Astrid.” I keep my tone gentle but firm.
“Again, please,” she says softly.
She is in charge, so I press into her slowly, only a couple of inches. I notice the way she tenses immediately.
Fuck.
I, of course, tense in reaction.
“Talk to me,” I tell her.
“It’s just a little tight,” she says.
“But not bad tight?”
“New tight,” she tries.
I pull in a deep breath and make my thoughts straighten out. My job here is to help her. It’s to make this work for her. It’s to make this good for her.
“Is it painful?” I ask.
She swallows. “A little.”
“I’m going to pull out and—”
She grabs my forearm. “No, please don’t.”
I pause. Then nod. “Play with your clit,” I tell her.
“Use your fingers. Make this fantasy just like all of those nights. But now I’m here.
” I lean and put my mouth against her neck, kissing and sucking gently.
“Now I’m actually here, my big cock between your legs. Fucking you like you’ve always wanted.”
She drags in a deep, shaky breath, and I feel her hand move between us. She starts circling over her clit, and I move my hips, the smallest amount, pulling back and then sinking in just an inch.
I feel her start to relax, and her breathing deepens.
“That’s it, my gorgeous wife,” I coach.
She takes an even deeper breath, and the circles speed up.
“That’s my girl,” I tell her. “This tight, hot pussy is perfect, Firework,” I praise. “You’re perfect.”
“Declan,” she breathes.
I move my hips and sink a little deeper, gratified to feel her take me with no tension and no hitch in her breathing.
She feels fucking incredible, and it kills me that there is a point where this could hurt her.
I feel myself tense with that thought and force myself to relax.
“That’s it,” I tell her. “You’re doing so well. Keep going. I want you to feel so fucking good.”
I stroke in and out a few times and then try going deeper again.
And sure enough, there’s a point where I feel her tense.
She sucks in a quick breath, and I stop.
“Dammit,” she says, her voice broken.
I lift my head and look into her eyes.
She looks like she’s about to cry, and that I cannot handle.
I cup the back of her head.
“We have to stop,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “Maybe it’ll get better.”
I frown. “I am not fucking you with pain just in case it gets better.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and I feel like someone is yanking my heart out of my chest.
I pull out and immediately sink to my knees. I kiss up her inner thigh, then lick over her clit. “Is this okay?” I ask.
She doesn’t reply. I look up. “Can I make you come like this?”
Her hands tangle in my hair. “You don’t have to.”
“I am going to make you come. If I can’t do it with my cock, I will do it this way.”
I lean in and start eating at her, licking and sucking until she’s gasping my name. I don’t add fingers. I just work at her sweet clit until she’s coming, gripping my hair and calling out my name.
Then I rise and pull her against my chest.
She starts to cry, and I feel my own eyes sting as I hold her.
It’s several minutes before she sniffs and pulls back. She wipes her eyes and then nudges me back.
I let her slide off the desk, pick up her underwear and pants, and disappear into her en suite bathroom.
I do a little clean up as well and straighten my clothes, shrugging back into my jacket.
Both of our phones are buzzing with texts, and I see that we’ve both missed phone calls.
I don’t give a fuck.
I want to sweep my wife up, take her home, and tuck her into her cozy space on the back patio with her big multicolored cushions, her twinkle lights, a milkshake, and her cat and ducks.
She emerges as I am scrolling through texts that are telling me reporters are waiting downstairs to interview us, the team is wondering where I am, and Iris has questions for me.
Astrid is completely put back together. She fixed her makeup, and she again looks like the kick-ass lady boss of the Rebel Revelers and Bayou Otters.
I don’t ask if she’s okay.
I know that she’s not.
“Should we go downstairs?” she asks.
I am so glad she doesn’t apologize.
I nod. “There are about a million people waiting for us.”
I don’t even know if she tries to smile. If she did, she did a miserable job of it. “Let’s go.”
The only thing that releases some of the tension in my chest is that she holds out her hand to me, and we go down to the arena parking lot with our fingers linked.