Page 60 of Killaney Blood
He pushes his thumb deeper, matching the rhythm of his cock. The combination is overwhelming. Every nerve ending in my body seems to fire at once.
"You like that?" he asks, sounding almost surprised. "My thumb in your ass while I fuck you?"
I can't even form words anymore, just nod frantically. The pressure is building again, stronger this time, threatening to consume me entirely.
"You're going to come for me now," he says. "On my cock like a good girl."
He thrusts harder, and fire and electricity burn through my body. I close my eyes, and I still see white.
The orgasm rips through me with such force that I scream, my inner walls clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. My vision blurs, body shaking uncontrollably.
He doesn't stop; he pumps every ounce of my high and I feel numb from what he's just done to me.
After a few thrusts he slides his thumb out and grips my hips and begins pumping harder than he has before.
His cock feels like it's swelling, getting bigger. His breathing is loud, focused.
"Where do you want it?" he groans, his cock hitting deeper with each thrust.
I'm still trembling from my own release, barely able to think. Anywhere, everywhere, but I want to feel him fill me the most.
"Inside," I manage to say. "Come inside me."
I grip the couch and he slams into me, and with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself as far as he can in me. I feel his cock pulsing, filling me with his release. His grip on my hip tightenspainfully for a moment and then relaxes as he collapses over me, his weight pressing me into the couch.
For a long moment, we stay like that, both struggling to catch our breath. I feel his heart hammering against my back, his cock still twitching inside me.
Slowly, he withdraws himself. I wince at the emptiness, at the feel of his release dripping down my thighs.
He leans over and unties my wrists.
I stay bent over, not trusting my legs to support me yet. My mind is blank, body humming with residual pleasure.
That was one of the most spectacular things I've ever done. I didn't know a body could experience such pleasure.
He helps me stand, turns me to face him. His hair is messy, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from our kisses. He looks younger somehow, less guarded.
For a moment, I see a different Declan. Not the mafia prince, not the man who threatened me, but just a man. A beautiful man who's just as complicated as I am. And still, he looks at me like I'm something precious.
The realization terrifies me more than any threat ever could and I slip back into old ways.
"I need to shower," I say, voice rough.
He watches me, eyes narrowing slightly. "You're running again."
"I'm not running. I'm showering." I grab my shirt from the floor, holding it against me like a shield. "You can let yourself out."
Something flashes in his eyes. Hurt, maybe, or anger. "That's not happening."
"What?"
"I'm not leaving." He steps closer, backing me against the wall. "Not after that. Not after feeling you come apart around me."
I swallow hard, my pulse quickening again despite my exhaustion. "Now that we had sex, you don't want to just go? Because, you can. I will?—"
He kisses me again.
"I told you. I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on."
