Page 60 of Vengeful Vows

“Why do you always have to shit on my father?”

I sigh, rubbing a hand across the back of my neck. “Look, I don’t want to fight.”

“Shocking. You always want to fight.”

“That’s not true,” I argue. “You’re the one who has the sharp tongue, you know?”

She twists around to look at me, smiling slyly. “Last I heard, you liked my sharp tongue.”

Lust rushes through me, and I drag my lip between my teeth before grinning at her.

“I can think of how to put it to good use.”

“That’s what we’re good at, isn’t it?” There’s something in her voice that isn’t quite anger, isn’t quite lust.

She turns, climbing into my lap, and her towel falls away, revealing her perfect, perky breasts.

I groan low in my throat as she rocks her hips against mine, the only thing separating us the thin fabric of my underwear.

I harden immediately beneath her, and I put my hands on her breasts, palming across her peaked nipples.

She lets out a long, moany breath.

I lean forward to kiss her, catching her lips with my own, sliding my tongue between them.

She licks into my mouth, hesitantly at first, and then more passionately, bracing her hands on my shoulders as she rolls her hips.

The slow friction of her wet heat is maddening even through the fabric, and I growl, biting down on her lip as I twist, putting her on her back.

Bree’s legs spread immediately, and I put a hand on each of her thighs, pushing them further apart and looking down at her.

“So slick already,” I murmur, moving one hand to cup her pussy, pressing my thumb against her clit.

She hitches out another moan, arching her back.

“Declan, please.” She rocks her hips forward for more friction, and I chuckle, moving my thumb slowly across her bundle of nerves while she writhes beneath me.

I kiss along her neck, sucking and biting down to leave marks all across her skin. I want to mark her for good, mark her mine.

She starts to shudder as I move my thumb faster, nearly vibrating it against her, and I know she’s coming when her cry cuts off into a long groan that comes deep from her chest.

“That’s it, princess,” I murmur. “Come for me.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she grunts out, unable to make words, and she’s so sexy that I’m straining against my boxers, literally aching to be inside her.

But all I can do is watch her face, her eyelids squeezed shut. The arch of her back, the lines of her stomach, the little pouch just below her bellybutton, soft and feminine and absolutely gorgeous.

She’s like a lustful goddess, keening out her pleasure, and I remove my hand from her, shoving down my boxer briefs and freeing myself to the cool air.

I stand fully erect, precum dripping from the tip.

But I grit my teeth when I guide myself into her, holding myself back as she clenches around me through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

I want to make this last, want her to come around me again and again.

Usually, it’s because that’s a stroke to my ego, to my sexual prowess, but right now, with Bree, it’s different. It’s because I want to please her, want to watch her face as she lets go and submits herself to me.

Her pink lips part as she pants, rocking her hips as I stay still inside her.

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