Page 37 of Declan

Her eyes are closed as she licks me, but then a whimper escapes, and her eyes open, clashing with mine as her arms tighten, her mouth opening fully in an obvious invitation that I more than willingly take.

My hands move from my sides, my arms wrapping around her waist as I pull her into me, lifting her off her feet as I tilt my head and dive in. She moans again as my tongue breaches her lips, tangling with her own, my teeth nipping and lips sucking.

I kiss her with every ounce of passion and feeling I possess, reveling in the taste of her still on my tongue, the weight of her arms around my neck, and her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me impossibly closer.

Eventually, she tears her clinging lips away, and her hands release my hair, her arms moving from around my neck, and I slowly lower her feet to the floor.

She presses her hands against my chest, my heartbeat pounding against her palm as she looks up at me dreamily, and I smile, unable to keep the smugness from my features that she kissed me.

She fucking kissed me.

She giggles softly, then shakes her head and pats me on the chest. Then, she steps back and walks around me, heading toward the bathroom.

I stand there and watch her walk away, completely uncertain what the fuck I should do next, when she stops in the doorway, looking at me over her shoulder as she says, “Are you coming?”

I nod, completely lost for words.

Then, I follow her.

14

A Little Aftercare

Issa

I’msurprisedbyhoweasily he follows me—by how quickly he adjusts his demeanor and reactions to match my own. And it doesn’t come off as forced, which leads me to believe he genuinely cares for me beyond the physical, as wild as that may sound.

He didn’t even comment on my virginal status, which insinuates he may have known about it. I’ve never intentionally hidden it from anyone; it’s just not something that generally came up, and for the last few years, people assumed Bobby was boning me day in and day out. Of course, he only helped move these rumors along, and I never cared enough about it to set anyone straight.

Now, I’m lying in this outdoor tub, neck-deep in bubbles, waiting for Mr. Rock-and-Roll to grace me with his presence. I never would’ve taken Declan Hughes for a prude or for being even remotely old-fashioned, but he has this grand idea that we shouldn’t see each other fully nude until we decide to go all the way.

Yes, the self-proclaimed grown-ass man used the phrase “go all the way.”

He touches my shoulder, and I startle, not noticing his approach from behind me. I move to sit up, but his hand grips my shoulder more tightly, guiding me forward just enough for him to slide in behind me but not far enough forward for me to peek a glance.

I settle back against him, squirming around to get comfortable, and then I giggle, pressing my lower back into his hard cock as I say, “Is that a stick in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?”

He wraps an arm around my front, gripping my shoulder and pulling me firmly back against him so he can press his face into my neck. “Hush now, darlin’.”

I smile, sighing as he presses a kiss against my pulse, then he slides us down a bit, and suddenly, the bubbles are up to my chin.

He’s silent for a few moments, and I finally ask, “What are you thinking about?”

“Your sweet pussy.” I choke on a laugh, truly surprised by his answer, and he laughs with me and then adds, “Honestly, I wasn’t thinking about anything other than my dick and how much I want to stick it in you.”

I laugh again, surprised by his honesty and how it doesn’t leave me feeling uncomfortable. But still, I say, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry, Issa,” he says mildly. “I like teasing you, but I’m fine. When you’re ready to take that step, we’ll take that step. Not a moment before.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be ready.”

“You won’t know until you know, darlin’. Don’t stress over it.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I ponder the idea of me no longer being a virgin, of me saying to hell with it and offering it up to him right here and now.

“I didn’t keep it this long on purpose,” I explain, even though he didn’t ask for an explanation. “It’s not like it’s a religious statement or because I feel it has any great value or anything.”

“Of course, it has value, Issa,” he replies. “You deciding to be choosy on who you gift it to is the choice you made for yourself. You don’t need to rationalize it for me.”

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