I looked up at the ceiling and opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off by dropping the remote, then cupping my cheek with his warm, large, calloused hand. “When I take you, Trina, and I promise you I’m going to, I want to know that everything I’m giving you is pleasure. And tonight, I can’t know that for certain. I don’t want to be worried that you’re hiding pain in your ankle when I’m making you feel good in other places. But trust me, it’ll happen. This will happen between us, when I can know that I can take you and not hurt you.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. The surprise I felt at hearing his words, along with the taste and feel of him, his lips surprisingly soft, made my lips part and he slid his tongue inside my mouth.
Tasting me.
Gently.
But fully and completely.
I mewled into his mouth as his tongue touched mine. Sparks ignited, running down my back.
But I didn’t push against him. I didn’t force anything to happen.
I trusted him. I trusted him completely, and somehow I knew that he needed this. He needed this time and he needed to know I was okay. So I let him continue sliding his tongue against mine, our kiss and our breaths mingling together, and I let him slowly pull away until our lips were barely touching.
And then I smiled.
“Do you understand what I said, Trina?”
I nodded, giving him that. “We can wait, Declan.”
His thumb slid along my cheekbone, his eyes dropping to watch the movement. “You taste as beautiful as you look. As beautiful as you are.”
I swallowed, fighting the emotion threatening to spill over. I never expected a man as large and intimidating and strong as Declan would be the guy to give me this, but he was. I knew in that moment, as I whispered my thank you in the shyest way possible, feeling like the strongest person in the world when his eyes sparkled in answer, that as much as Declan wanted to give me something good, something pure, I wanted to give him everything he’d ever wanted.
“Go to sleep,” he finally said, turning back to the television, but keeping one arm around my waist, the other hand on my cheek. “We’ve had a long day and we’ll have an even longer one tomorrow.”
I let him gently press my cheek against his shoulder and my eyes slid to the television.
My arm was draped all the way across his stomach, my fingers pressed into his side to hold him to me, like he was holding me to him.
Then I closed my eyes and inhaled his clean scent, with its hint of spice, as he settled on a baseball game.
I was asleep before the inning was over.
Morning pulled me from sleep, and I felt the heat beneath me. Before I opened my eyes, I knew where I was.
I was next to Declan, practically draped over his firm body. We had somehow shifted in our sleep, and I was once again under covers I didn’t remember crawling under. One of my legs was pressed up against Declan’s, my other draped over his thigh. My arm was over his stomach, where I remembered placing it before I fell asleep, my other hand was under his shoulder, and my head was resting on top of it.
I was essentially an octopus, my limbs all over him, attached as if by suction.
I had no desire to move, either.
I did, though, have an insatiable desire to somehow be closer to him. To taste him.
I hadn’t felt desire for anyone in years, and as it came at me that morning, my sex beginning to throb and pulse with heat and need, I succumbed to it.
I turned my head and pressed my lips to his exposed skin, running my hand along his stomach, through his short, coarse hair.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember the way he’d looked last night when he exited the bathroom. A smattering of hair between his pecs, peppered down the center of his abs, thickening as it reached his waistband.
I had a sudden, overwhelming desire to see what rested beneath said waistband.
With my lips pressed to his chest, I tasted his masculinity. The hard muscles beneath his skin tightened as my hand continued slowly wandering across his abs.
I felt my nipples tighten beneath my tank top, and as my breath quickened, my tongue darted out, sliding along his skin.
His hand flexed on my lower back where he held me to him, his fingertips pressing into my skin.
“Trina?”
His voice was a deep, raspy murmur.
It did crazy things to the already wet area between my thighs. I wanted to hear his voice, every day, say my name just like that.
“Hmm?” I murmured, pressing my lips against his skin again. My fingers gripped his shoulder, as if I were trying to hold him to me so I could explore him.
I wanted him more than anything.
“You awake, sweetheart?”
I nodded, keeping my eyes closed and my exploration slow, savoring every inch of him.
It was soon no longer enough.
Declan’s chest began to rise and fall at a faster pace. His hand continued pressing me against his body and my hips began to move against his thigh of their own accord.
I was grinding on him, and he was letting me.
He was giving me control in this moment as if he somehow knew I desperately needed it.
I did.
I also wanted to lose it.
“You feel so good,” I replied, my voice a hoarse whisper. “When I’m next to you, I feel safe.”
“Aww, sweetheart.” His hand tightened on my back and he shifted his weight, rolling to the side and holding me against him. The move made me straddle his lower thigh, and my hips pressed into him. “You’re still hurt.”
“I know.” I was. I was hurting everywhere, but it wasn’t my ankle that was throbbing. To show him what I meant, I slid my hand to his hip and tried to pull him closer to me. “I want you, though.”
I felt him shudder as he exhaled deeply, and I finally opened my eyes. His hand slid up to the back of my neck and he tilted my head, forcing me to meet his gaze.
His dark-brown eyes were heated, full of desire. I watched his throat dip and move as he swallowed, seeming to decide what to do next.
“I want this, Declan.” I strengthened my voice. I wanted him to know that I wanted the same things he did. To explore what we were feeling as adults. It didn’t have to lead to forever; I just wanted to enjoy it for now.
He pressed his other hand to my cheek, pushing back my hair and tucking it behind my ear.
“You always do that,” I whispered, a small smile tilting my lips at the corners. “Why?”
His eyes watched the movement of his hand. “Because you always seem so soft and I can’t help but touch you.”
“Then do it,” I challenged him softly. “Touch me.”
His forehead fell to mine. I felt his chest heave against me and he closed his eyes. “If I start, I wouldn’t want to stop, Trina. Not until every inch of you is mine.”
His.
His need to claim me didn’t scare me. Not like it would have coming from someone else. Not like it did when Kevin said I was his.
There was a difference.
Kevin wanted to control me, to make me a possession.
Declan just wanted me at his side.
I wanted to be beneath him. Or maybe on top of him.
“Please,” I pleaded, my hips rolling against his leg again. “I need this.”
And so did he, based on the bulge I felt beneath the fabric of his boxers.
He groaned as I shifted my hips and rolled them again, pressing into him.
“Jesus,” he grunted. “I can feel how wet and hot you already are.”
My fingertips dug into his shoulders. “Please, Declan. Don’t hold back with me. Not like this.”
I felt his fight to be safe leave him with another rolling breath that rippled down his abs. His hand on my cheek cupped me more firmly and then he was pulling me closer to him, sinking his lips to mine.
I instantly mewled against him as his hands began to move. He explored my skin, my arms, and my back beneath my tank top, and then that was being removed as I was rolled to my back.
“So beautiful,” he said, leaning over me, already between my spread thighs. His large, warm hand trailed down my chest, sliding between my breasts and running along my abdomen.
The sincere and intense way he looked at me prevented any embarrassment from seeping into me. His hand drew circles on my skin, creating a wake of goosebumps as the circles grew smaller and then larger again.
With every swipe of his hand just above the waistband of my shorts, I arched into him, silently signaling what I needed.
He ignored me and kept his eyes on my face, watching the reaction I was having to his touch become obvious.
I bit down on my bottom lip to contain my moans and to stop myself from pleading again.
He knew what I wanted. I’d already asked enough.
His eyes met mine and narrowed. “I want to be gentle with you, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to.”
I shook my head. “Don’t. I want you, however you come.”
He must have seen the sincerity and the need in my eyes, because his hand stilled at my hip, and he leaned forward.
“I haven’t even kissed you yet,” he murmured, his lips stretching into a grin. “How forgetful of me.”
I laughed softly as his lips met mine and I opened to him immediately. Our tongues tangled together, increasing my need like a wildfire ignited deep inside me. As our kiss grew more intense, Declan’s hands went to my pajama shorts and he pulled them down, no longer seeming to hesitate about what he wanted.
His hand slid up my thigh and I moaned into his mouth. His touch was sure and confident, but gentle at the same time.