Page 61 of Vengeful Vows

I ignore her undulating hips and lean down to kiss her, slowly, deeply, pulling away to look into her eyes.

“I want you to always know who’s making you come, princess,” I tell her. “Eyes on me.”

She mewls, nodding her head for good measure, and then I start to move. I roll my hips, fucking her in long, even strokes that make an orgasm build up achingly slowly in my abdomen and balls.

I could fuck her hard and dirty, which is what I originally planned, make us both come, but some part of me wants this to last. Some part of me wants her to just fall apart beneath me. I kiss her once more but then pull away and her lips chase mine.

“You look so beautiful like this. Bellissima.”

“I’m so close, Declan,” she whimpers. “I’m going to come again.”

“Go ahead, baby. Come all over my cock, show me how good you feel.”

Bree struggles with keeping her eyes open, but she listens, keeping her eyes on me, and it’s like I could fall into those hazel pools, swim there all night as the green in her eyes grows more pronounced with lust. Her skin is hot beneath mine, our abdomens slapping together when I thrust into her.

Fuck, I’m close.

Not yet. Stay steady.

I want to ruin her, want to ruin her for any other man, want her to be mine forever, to want to be mine forever, and if I wasn’t so close to the edge, that line of thinking might scare me. As it is, though, I grunt out her name, keeping my strokes as even as I can, given how close I am to orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” she curses, her voice low and raspy. “I’m coming, Declan.”

I can feel that she is, her orgasm giving her a full-body reaction as she claws at my shoulders. The sting makes me moan, makes me start to move faster despite myself.

She’s clenching around me like a vice, and she feels like heaven.

My orgasm is coming and nothing short of a natural disaster is going to stop it, but I keep up my slow, long strokes as she shudders all over, mumbling nonsense as she throws her head back.

I groan and kiss her deeply when I start to come, fucking her through her orgasm and mine, and when it’s over and I pull out of her, I feel an odd sense of loss.

It seems that Bree does, too, because she whines and clutches at me.

I chuckle, finding it cute, but instead of lying down next to her, I slide down her body, kissing her abdomen, licking into her bellybutton, spreading her thighs with my hands.

“Again?” Her eyes widen.

“Two isn’t enough.” I kiss her inner thighs, biting down on the sensitive skin, and she cries out.

I wonder how she’d look with my hickeys marring her pale inner thighs, and I start to lick and suck in different spots.

Bree moans, putting her hands in my hair.

“You’re teasing me,” she whines, and when I look up at her, those pink lips are in a heart-shaped pout.

My heart skips a beat. I’ve got to bury myself in her so that I won’t think about how that pout makes my breath catch in my throat, won’t think about how much she affects my soul and not just my body.

Something like panic threatens to overwhelm me, so I press my face against her hot, slick sex, tasting both of us together when I lap at her clit.

Her inner thighs are already trembling.

“It’s too much. I can’t!” she cries.

“You can.” My words come out muffled against her skin.

I slide my middle and ring finger inside of her, pumping in and out, taking my time, tasting her clit, her inner lips, her entrance.

I stimulate her everywhere I can reach, and she’s nearly screaming by the time she comes again, pulsing around my fingers.

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