Page 57 of Shuttered Hearts

“Please. I’m begging you. I need you to touch me.”

“Do you trust me?” I ask, starting at her ankle and slowly trailing kisses up the inside of her leg.

“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate, and the joy that courses through me is something I know I’ve never experienced before. This woman, who has every reason not to trust people, has put her trust in me. I never want to take that for granted.

I swallow, trying to gather myself before responding. “Then trust I will give you exactly what you need,” I say, finally bringing my mouth to her center and gently flicking my tongue across her exposed clit.

I don’t know for sure, but I think both of us moan. All I can focus on now is the taste of her, earthy and sweet, like a crisp fall morning, my new favorite.

I slide two fingers into her and groan at how tight and wet she is. The thought of sliding my aching cock inside of her right now has me almost coming in my pants. I grind my hips against the rug below me to get just a little relief as I slowly slide my fingers in and out of her wet heat and suck her clit into my mouth.

“Declan. I can’t, I need you inside me.” Her hand falls to my hair, pulling.

“You can.” I continue moving my fingers in and out, curling them to hit just the right spot on every thrust in. “Come for me like this, and then you can have my cock.” I blow lightly at her clit, her thighs tremble, and her walls around my fingers clench. “That’s right. Let it happen, gorgeous.”

Her fingers tighten in my hair. Her back arches, and she screams as her orgasm overtakes her.

I continue to slowly thrust my fingers in and out of her until her walls release me and her body relaxes. I slowly kiss my way up her body, settling my hips between her legs, and press a kiss to her lips, letting her taste herself on my tongue.

“Why are you still wearing so many clothes?” she asks, clumsily pushing my open shirt off my shoulders.

“I was focusing on you,” I whisper against her cheek, grinding my hard jean-covered cock against her sensitive core.

She moans. “You need to lose the clothes.”

twenty-seven

QUINN

I can’t explain it,but I’m aching for him. Even though he just gave me the best orgasm of my life, I need to feel his weight on top of me, his skin on mine. I need to feel him everywhere, surrounding me.

“We don’t have to do anything else,” he says, his lips against my cheek. His hands slowly move up the sides of my body, with the lightest touch.

“Don’t you dare.” My hands immediately move from his exposed back to the button on his jeans. “I want this.” I slide the zipper down and slowly slide my hand into his boxers. “I need this,” I moan as I wrap my hand around his hard dick.

“Quinn.” His hips jerk as I begin to stroke him leisurely. The feel of him in my hand does something to me. There’s a power in knowing I’m responsible for making him this hard.

“Please, lose the clothes,” I whisper in his ear, my voice pleading, before nipping at his neck and reluctantly releasing him, lightly pushing him away.

He groans but pushes up, pressing a scorching kiss to my lips before standing completely, towering over me. I should feel self-conscious about being completely naked in front of him. I’ve never been entirely comfortable in my own skin. But this is Declan. I’ve always felt safe with him, and the heated look he’s giving me makes me feel both cherished and desired.

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, searching for something before dropping both the item and his wallet onto the coffee table next to us. Then his jeans and boxers are being lowered, and I get my first look at a completely naked Declan. And the man is gorgeous.

“Declan,” I moan as my thighs clench.

He doesn’t give me time to fully appreciate him before he’s back down on top of me, settling his hips between my legs. He grabs his dick and slowly drags it over my center, brushing my clit, causing a shiver to run through my body and both of us to moan.

“This isn’t going to be long, but I promise to make it up to you.” Kneeling between my open legs, he reaches for the coffee table, grabs a condom and tears it open. Watching him roll the condom on has me questioning if he will even fit.

“Declan,” I whisper, reaching for him.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ve got you.” He watches himself as he places his tip at my entrance and slowly—oh, so slowly—pushes in just an inch. “I’ll go slow.” He looks up at me and it’s like he can read my mind. Kissing me, he murmurs, “It’ll fit.”

He slowly starts rocking his hips back and forth, sliding in a little more on each thrust. My nails dig into his back as he slowly stretches me. There’s a hint of pain, but it’s quickly overpowered by the pleasure that follows.

I love the feel of his bare chest on mine, the feel of his hands roaming my body, of his hard length slowly entering me, stretching me. I’m lost to all of it.

He stills when he sinks to the hilt, lifting off of me just enough to look down at where we’re joined. My hips shift, urging him to move. “Declan, please.”

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