Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
He grabs my shoulder, gripping it hard, then covering me with his chest. “Trust me. It’s all I want too, and I’m going to make it so good for you,” he murmurs in my ear, then he moves off me, falls to his back and thrusts the lube in my hand.
“It won’t take me long,” he says.
I follow his lead.
He gave me the map. He handed me the instructions. So, I return the favor. Lubing up, teasing, toying, then pushing a finger inside his body. And it feels incredible when I watch his reaction.
His face is exquisite torture, excruciating bliss, and his mouth is dirty magic.
Yes.
Do that.
Fuck yes.
More, more, more.
I don’t want to screw up, but I’m not sure I can, because he showed me exactly what to do. But I add little changeups as I learn his body, as I discover he wants it a little deeper than he gave it to me, a little harder, a little more pressure. I listen to his cues, and I give him what he seems to want, what he seems to need.
I feel like a king when he thrusts up, moaning and groaning. Then begging.
“Suck me off,” he says hoarsely.
In a heartbeat, I bring my lips to his dick.
I draw him in, nice and deep, sucking his fantastic cock with everything I have. He pummels my mouth as I fuck his ass, my fingers doing that come-hither wave till he shouts, “Yes, coming now.”
I suck him harder, my bones humming with a fresh round of pleasure as I swallow his salty, musky orgasm, drinking him down like he’s my new favorite thing.
Because he is.
I give him one good final lick as I ease out my fingers. Then I kiss the tip of his dick and lift my face.
Once he comes down from his high, he pulls me to him, dragging me close, my chest against his.
Declan’s hands slide into my hair, and he kisses me in that tender, sloppy way he has of kissing after sex.
The way he likes it.
I know that already, and that knowledge makes my pulse surge.
Turns out I’m not only learning about myself, but I’m discovering him too. What he likes. What he needs.
It’s thrilling to understand another person’s desire. It’s a gift when a man shows you what he wants.
Declan is fearless in bed. He’s unafraid to let go. To talk. To ask for things. To tell me what he likes.
My life has been the opposite. I haven’t asked for things. I haven’t put myself out there in anything but baseball. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. Growing up, I saw two people who were supposed to love me fight over everything. I saw two people who were supposed to want me act like they didn’t.
No wonder I only ever went after hookups. They were easier.
This is so much harder.
This isn’t a hookup.
And Declan is showing me how to take new chances. I think I can be fearless too, like him. Starting in simple ways. Like talking about sex, about how we are together in bed. So, when we break the kiss, I say something that’s been on my mind, something that drives me crazy with him. “You’re noisy.”
He smiles, all dopey and sexy. “I know. I’m not quiet.”
“You sure aren't,” I say, with a grin, letting him know I like his sounds.
“Because I love sex,” he says, all low and smoky. “But not all sex.” He looks me in the eyes. “When I’m into the guy, that’s when I’m the loudest.” He lifts his face and kisses my smile with a sexy murmur, a flick of his tongue, a whisper. “And I’m really into you, rookie.”
A brand-new jolt of pleasure zips down my back.
But it’s not from the thrill of contact. It’s from something else entirely.
The things he says. The way he talks to me. And the way I want to talk to him.
He pulls back, flops onto the pillow, but keeps his gaze locked with mine.
My stomach flips.
That’s new too, and so is the next thing I say. “Yeah, I’m pretty into you too.”
A little later, we’re cleaned up, lazing around in bed and talking about a TV show we both like, a how-to documentary about strange things in New York.
His phone buzzes.
When Declan grabs it from the nightstand, I turn away. Don’t want him to think I’m prying as he reads a message.
“You like hockey?”
“Duh,” I answer.
“Smart aleck. Tomorrow’s our off day. Want to go to a hockey game tomorrow night?”
“With you?” I ask, surprised.
“No, with Lady Gaga.” Then, Declan strips any flirting or sarcasm from his tone as he glides his hand down my arm. “Yes, with me. My friend Emma and me. Her brother, Fitz, is playing."
I beam, sunshine flooding my body. “Dude. James Fitzgerald is a badass defenseman. Hell yeah. I'm in.”