Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
DECLAN
Silence stretches between us, the air thick and charged, as I wait for her to do as I asked. Plead with her to do as I asked.
I’ve seen my fair share of naked women in my forty-two years.
I’ve never been so damn desperate to see this woman naked.
There’s something about her. Something different from any other woman. She strips me bare without touching me. And yet, I’m already unraveling.
Her eyes remain glued to mine as she kicks off her heels one by one before untucking her blouse, her fingers slipping beneath the hem to find the side zipper of her skirt.
I don’t move. I don’t speak. I just watch.
Captivated. Aroused. A man brought to his fucking knees by a woman who doesn’t even realize the power she holds over me.
Her skirt pools around her ankles, and she steps out of it with an effortless confidence that shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. Then her fingers move to the buttons of her blouse. One by one, they pop open, revealing soft, luminous skin with each slow flick.
My fists clench. My cock throbs. She’s killing me.
I’ve never wanted someone the way I want her right now. Not just the physical, though that’s a storm all of its own. But the way she looks at me. Like she knows me. Like she sees straight through every barrier I’ve spent years building.
Her blouse slips down her shoulders, baring more of the smooth skin I ache to touch, and she’s standing in nothing but her bra and panties. Pale pink. Delicate. Feminine.
Utterly devastating.
My mouth goes dry. I can feel my blood rushing, every inch of me desperate to feel her. Consume her.
Devour her.
“Keep going.” My voice is a low rasp, barely audible.
She glances at the pants still covering my legs. “You still have clothes on.”
I almost laugh. Almost. But I don’t let her get away with the distraction.
I slowly rise to my feet, letting every inch of tension between us stretch and tighten. I don’t rush, but I don’t waste time either. I kick off my shoes, shove down my socks, then grip the waistband of my pants and push them down, briefs and all.
The air hits my skin. So does her heated stare.
Her eyes widen, dark and unreadable as they fix on my hard length.
“Where is that going to fit?” she whispers under her breath.
The corner of my mouth curves. I wrap a hand around my erection and move toward her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body against mine, though we’re not touching. Not yet.
“I’ll make sure it does,” I murmur, low and certain, brushing my mouth against her ear. “And that you enjoy every second of it.”
She shivers a full-body tremor, then steps back, her gaze never leaving mine.
Reaching behind her, she unclasps her bra.
It slips from her shoulders and falls to the floor, revealing the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen.
Then, with the same aching grace, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushes them down her legs.
I forget how to fucking breathe.
She’s…
Jesus.
Naked. Unashamed. Fucking glorious.
Every inch of her is a goddamn masterpiece. Soft, full curves. Smooth skin begging to be touched.
But it’s her eyes that wreck me.
The trust in them. The hunger. The way she looks at me like she belongs to me.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Claire.” My voice cracks with wonder.
But I don’t wait for her to respond. I grip the back of her head and crash my mouth against hers.
Her lips part on a gasp as I claim her. The raw, unfiltered sound undoes me. She tastes like mint and wine and something uniquely Claire. Sweet, but with an edge, like the fire she tries to keep hidden.
I dive in deeper, my hands finding her waist, spanning the smooth curve of her hips. Her skin is warm, impossibly soft, and I want to own every inch of it. Memorize her. Brand her into my fucking soul.
Her fingers thread into my hair, gripping tight, and something primal inside me snaps. I deepen the kiss even more, one hand sliding up her ribcage to the underside of her breast. I tease her, circling her taut peak with my thumb until she arches into me, her breath hitching.
“Christ, you feel good,” I murmur, dragging my mouth down her jaw, her throat, pausing to worship the delicate dip at the base of it.
I press open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone as my hands roam, learning the shape of her. The swell of her hips. The curve of her lower back. The warmth between her thighs that has me gripping her tighter to keep from losing it entirely.
I want to go slow. Want to make this last. But fuck, I’m barely hanging on.
Her skin flushes beneath my touch, a living canvas reacting to every glide of my fingers, every scrape of my stubble. Her lips are swollen, pupils blown wide with lust, chest rising and falling in quick little bursts.
“You okay?” I ask, my voice rough with restraint.
She nods. “Please don’t stop.”
She hoists herself onto her toes, her lips brushing against mine, and I’m completely powerless to resist the temptation of her kiss. I guide her backward until her legs bump the edge of the mattress. She sinks onto it, her legs parting for me, welcoming me between them.
I settle over her, and we both freeze for a heartbeat.
Her breath catches.
Mine does too.
God, she’s so warm. So soft. So damn perfect.
I brace one hand beside her head, the other gliding down her side until I reach her thigh.
“I’m going to take my time with you,” I murmur against her lips. “You asked me to take control, Claire. And I will. But if there’s anything you don’t like—”
“I’ll tell you,” she says, cutting me off with a whisper that feels like a vow.
“Good girl.”
I noticed her reaction the last time I said that.
This time, it’s even more visceral. Her breath stutters. Her thighs twitch against me. Her eyes flutter shut for a half-second like she’s trying to hold herself together… And failing.
I kiss her again, slower this time as I trail my mouth down the line of her jaw. Her neck. Her collarbone.
Her hands thread through my hair, holding on, not guiding, just needing to feel.
I keep inching down her body, pausing at her breasts, my eyes locked on her as I take one perfect peak into my mouth and suck. Slowly. Deeply.
Her back arches, her breathing increasing as her body winds tighter and tighter with every second.
I shift to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, nibbling at the edge of pain. Her whimper splits the air, her body arching even further into me.
“You like that,” I murmur, my lips brushing the sensitive skin right above her nipple. “Like the pain.”
“Yes,” she breathes without hesitation.
“Good girl.”
I cover her nipple with my mouth again, biting even harder this time. She gasps, but it turns into a moan. Needy. Desperate. Unhinged.
“You’re so damn responsive. I bet your cunt is dripping for me right now. Isn’t it?”
“Why don’t you find out?” she exhales.
“I plan on it.”
I kiss a path down her torso, licking and tasting my way past her navel. She squirms beneath me, her hips pressing upward, but I fight the temptation to rush this.
I said I’d take my time.
I meant it.
I tease her, dragging my tongue along her waist as I run my hand up the inside of her thigh, her muscles clenching when I reach her apex.
But then I retreat.
It’s a test in restraint, but I want to savor her. Consume her.
Worship her.
“Please,” she whimpers.
“What’s that?” I lift my eyes to hers.
“You’re killing me.”
My mouth curves in the corners. “Trust me. I’ll give you what you need.” I settle between her legs, pushing her thighs wide. “But you need to be patient.”
Hell, I need to be patient, too, something that’s becoming increasingly difficult, especially as I stare at her dripping pussy that’s practically begging for me to bury my face in it.
“Show me what you like.”
“What?” Her voice is thick, eyes wide as she props herself on her elbows.
“You heard me.” I kiss the inside of her knee. “We only have one night together. I need to make it good for you. So show me what you like.” I lean closer to her center. “Show me how you touch yourself. How you get yourself off.”
She doesn’t do anything for several seconds. Simply stares at me, obviously uncertain about this.
“Get out of your head, Claire. You asked me to take control. Don’t think. Just do. I’ll never judge you for it.”
She draws in a deep breath, then snakes a hand down her stomach, sliding her fingers through her slick folds before finding that bundle of nerves and rubbing.
And I watch.
Watch as she closes her eyes.
Watch as she circles her hips.
Watch as she rubs her clit.
When she glides her fingers lower, sliding one, then another inside her, the restraint I was able to hold on to evaporates. I grab her wrist, stopping her from doing anything further.
“My turn,” I growl.
Then I eat her like she’s my last meal. Like I’ve been starved for this. For her.
“Declan…” she moans as I seal my lips around her clit, my fingers thrusting inside her.
“Do you hear that?” I drive in and out of her even faster, the sound of her desire echoing in the room. “Do you hear how wet you are?”
Another moan is the only response I get.
But that’s not good enough. I need more.
“Tell me,” I demand. “Tell me you hear your wet cunt.”
I add another finger, stretching her even more.
“I do.”
“And why are you so wet, Claire?” I circle her clit with my tongue, my motions increasing with every second. “Does this delicious pussy need to be fucked?”
“God, yes,” she whimpers, her body climbing higher and higher.
“By who? Your friend from the bar earlier?”
“No. By you. I need to be fucked by you,” she cries out as an orgasm overtakes her, her legs shaking, body convulsing.
But I don’t stop. I continue to thrust into her, savoring the feeling of her walls clenching around my fingers.
Then I crawl up her body, my mouth a whisper from hers.
“Beg for me.”
Her eyes fling open, meeting mine. She hesitates, but only for a moment.
“Please fuck me, Declan.”
As desperate as I am to slam into her, I need a minute. Otherwise, I’ll probably come the second I’m inside her.
“Is that that best you can do? I want you to really beg for it, Claire.” I tease her opening with my cock. “Tell me everything you want me to do to you. In exact detail.”