29. Astrid
ASTRID
Dangling over Declan’s shoulder, I giggle.
He loves me.
He loves me even though we had to stop in the middle of sex.
He wants to stay together and keep working on it.
I haven’t been this happy in…maybe ever.
His big hand settles on my ass as he kicks the door shut.
“I need to grab all the glasses,” I tell him.
“No, you don’t.” He starts toward the back of the house instead of for the stairs. “Let’s take care of our ducks.”
Stupidly, I find that one of the sexiest things he could have said.
On the back patio, he lets me slide down his body. Before we step out into the backyard, he kisses me softly. “Thank you,” he says.
“For what?”
“For everything. For giving me a family again.”
I put my hand against his cheek. “It was only an hour on the porch with Fiona. There’s so much more to come.” I take a deep breath. “I want to tell your grandfather that I don’t want the annulment.”
He blows out a breath that sounds like the relief is coming from the depths of his soul. Then kisses me deeply. When he lifts his head, his eyes are full of emotion. “That makes me happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Me too.” My voice is thick.
“And you’ve given me a family even beyond the O’Gradys. Wilson and Patty and the hockey team. Andi, Sutton, Nora, Alex. Everybody.” He chuckles as the ducks realize we’re out here and start quacking and waddling toward the two short steps that will take us into the yard. “The ducks. Oscar.”
Tears are slipping down my cheeks by the time he’s finished. “My pleasure.”
He lowers his head and brushes his lips over mine. “Oh yes, we’re going to get to your pleasure too.”
Heat curls through me. “Good. I really want that. I’m ready.”
“Are you okay? After what happened in your office? I’ve been worried that you were going to think this was a failure.
But that is not how I feel. Every time you try, it’s a success.
It’s a step closer to the goal.” He runs his thumb along my jaw.
“And I will be abstinent for the rest of my life if that’s how it turns out. I just want to be with you.”
My heart is aching with how much I love this man.
“Actually,” I say, willing myself not to cry.
“I’ve been thinking about it and, yes, I did panic there for a little bit.
But then I realized what we’re doing is actually an amazing success.
I mean, we’re having a great time, despite all of these…
unique circumstances.” I smile up at him.
“Couples have great sex all the time when it’s easy.
It takes a really amazing couple to not only give each other intense orgasms, but to also actually fall in love when things are this challenging. ”
He just stares at me for several beats. Then he says, “Jesus, I love you so much.”
I start to rise on tip toe to kiss him again, and probably rub against him like a needy cat, but he steps back and says one of the weirdest sentences yet.
“Hurry up with the mealworms and grubs. I need to get you naked.”
I laugh as we head into the backyard. We do all of the duck chores in record time, but of course, still take time for cuddles before the ducks waddle into their house and get secured for the night.
I lead the way back up onto the patio and start for the door into the house. But he tugs me to a stop. “Let’s stay out here.” He leans over and flips the switch next to the door, casting the space in a warm golden glow.
“Out here?” I look around. I love this space. It’s cozy and comfortable. And I will make love to this man wherever he wants.
“Maybe less pressure than in the bedroom? And…” He glances into the yard. “I want you to be like the ducks.”
I grin even though I’m not sure what he means.
“I want you to be unabashedly messy. Just go after whatever you want and trust that there’s someone here to give you what you need and keep you safe.”
My breath hitches.
I step toward him. “You are definitely that person, Declan. You were that person even before you knew everything I needed you for.”
He cups my face with both hands. “I will always be that person. No matter what happens. I don’t care how muddy things get.”
I never knew I could love someone like this. That I could have these soft, mushy feelings at the same time that I feel hot and needy and like if I don’t get my naked body against his in the next minute, I might die.
I reach for the bottom of the sundress I changed into when I got home from the arena. I strip it up and over my head, tossing it to the side, then quickly shed my bra and panties. This is no time for a slow, drawn-out striptease.
His eyes are hot as they track over me, but I take his hand and lead him over to the cushions without a word.
I push the little coffee table aside and kneel on the closest cushion, pulling the others closer and arranging them into a makeshift mattress on the floor.
Then I look up at him. “I was thinking about it—I’ve been thinking about it all night—and I think it might work best if I’m on top the first time. ”
A little growl comes from his chest. He drops to his knees and the cushions next to me. “Whatever you want.”
I reach for the buttons on his shirt. “That way I can control the speed and angles and depth.”
I notice how his hands flex at his side as if he’s holding back and resisting reaching for me.
I take one of his hands and bring it up to my hip. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to do anything. Touch me. Talk to me, please. Kiss me.” The last two words are raspy as I lean in and put my mouth against his.
He cups the back of my head, kissing me deeply, and I am so thrilled that he does not hold back.
His mouth is hungry on mine, and I quickly finish his buttons and push the dress shirt off his shoulders.
He yanks it off his arms and tosses it aside, almost angrily, though I know it’s eagerness for what's ahead.
I undo his belt, pulling it through the belt loops, but pause before I unzip his pants to run a hand over the long, hard length behind his fly.
He shudders, groaning into my mouth. “Fuck yes, Firework.”
I love that he lets me know I affect him and that he’s not going to try to take this sweet and slow.
If I need to slow down at any point, I know that I can. But I feel like I’ve actually got sparklers lit underneath my skin, popping and crackling and heating every nerve ending.
I stroke him again, leaning in to rub my breasts against his bare chest. He takes over with his pants, ripping the fly open and surging to his feet so that he can strip them off, kicking his shoes and pants to the side, then stripping off his socks and his underwear before kneeling in front of me again.
“Now, where were you?” he asks.
I laugh and return my hand to his cock, this time with nothing between my palm and that hot, silky skin. I stroke him until he is panting, his forehead pressed to mine. “Goddamnit, I love your hands on me.”
“Do you want me to finish you this way?” I ask. “In case we can’t—”
I find myself flipped onto my back and an intense, very turned-on billionaire between my thighs.
“I think you’re going to be able to take me, Firework,” he tells me gruffly. “And I want as much of this sweet pussy as I can have. But if there is a point where we have to stop, we can talk about how you can finish me off then.”
Heat jolts through me as options for finishing him off go through my head. I like them all. Which means that, however this ends up, everything’s going to be great.
Which I know is exactly his intention.
“Okay,” I tell him.
He kisses my mouth, then presses kisses along my throat, saying, “Of course, there are so many ways I want to enjoy this pussy before my cock gets a chance at it.”
Said pussy knows that she is the star of the show, because she flutters, eager for his attention.
I lift my hips, encouraging it all. “I’m ready for—”
Again, he cuts me off, this time by taking the hands I am using to try to urge him back up my body and pinning them to the cushion over my head.
He stares down at me, one corner of his mouth quirking.
“I am going to let you be in charge of the speed, angles, and depth when I fuck you,” he tells me, that deep voice rumbling over me as if he’s stroking my skin with his hands.
“But other than that, I’m in charge here.
I will be giving you your first two orgasms, and you’re going to lie here and take them. Happily.”
I nearly sob with pleasure and relief.
It’s taken us only days to get to the point where he knows exactly how to talk to me and what I need.
I’m so tired of talking about my pelvic floor and my vagina and how it all works—and how it doesn’t all work—and coaching people, including him, about how touch and pressure and friction affect it.
Part of my fantasies have been someone simply taking over and making everything feel amazing without me having to tell them anything.
I feel a tear escape the corner of my eye and trail toward my hairline. He presses a kiss there and says softly, “I’ve got you, Astrid.”
And I might have broken down in sobs if he didn’t immediately lift one hand to cup my breast, while lowering his mouth to the other, playing with my nipples and ratcheting up the heat and need in my core.
“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he tells me as he sucks and licks and nips lightly.
I wiggle and writhe against him. “You are too,” I manage.
After I’m wet and whimpering from his teasing, he continues down my body, pressing kisses and giving me light nips on my ribs and stomach.
He finally kisses over my mound, then finds my clit with his tongue. He gives me a lick. “I’m going to be here for a little while,” he says roughly.
I lift my hips encouraging him.
He chuckles. “Yes, I know what this greedy pussy needs.”
He moves lower, and I have to stretch my thighs wider to accommodate his shoulders. He uses his thumbs to spread me open, then gives me a long, firm lick, making me cry out.
“I love that sound.” He does it again, and again, then sucks lightly.
“God, Declan,” I moan.