Page 22 of One Hot Chase

He continues his torturous exploration, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue. When he finally circles my clit, I cry out while tangling my fingers in his hair.

"Oh god, Declan," I moan. "Please don't stop."

He hums in response, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation. His talented tongue dances over my most sensitive areas, building the pressure low in my belly. Just when I think I can't take anymore, he slides two fingers inside me, curling them to hit that perfect spot, and I arch off the bed with a cry of ecstasy. The dual sensation of his fingers pumping in and out while his tongue works magic on my clit is almost too much to bear. My thighs tremble as the pressure builds like a coiled spring ready to snap.

"That's it, love," Declan murmurs against my flesh. "Let go for me. I want to feel you come undone."

His words, combined with a particularly skillful flick of his tongue, send me careening over the edge. My back bows as waves of pleasure crash over me, Declan's name falling from my lips in a breathless chant. He doesn't let up until I'm a dazed, incoherent mess.

When the last aftershocks subside, Declan plants a soft kiss on the tender underside of my throat. "You are a goddess in the throes, Bree. I should bow down at your feet to worship you."

"Now you're going a little overboard, don't you think? I love the compliments, and especially the mind-blowing orgasm, but you deserve all the credit for that."

He wags a finger at me. "No, no, love. Your pleasure inspired me."

I laugh, feeling light and giddy in the afterglow. "Well, if that's the case, I'd be happy to inspire you again sometime."

His eyes darken with renewed hunger. "Sometime? How about right now?"

I expect him to dive in again since his mouth still hovers millimeters from my sex. But instead, he sweeps me up in his arms and carries me into the bedroom. It's huge, opulent, and gorgeous. The bed looks like a California king. Declan is a large man, but not unusually tall. He must simply like having a big bed.

He discards my blouse and my bra. Both are ruined, but I don't give a hoot about that. He keeps hold of me while he thrusts the covers aside. Then he drops me onto the mattress, where I bounce and squeak in surprise. "You will come again, here on my bed, while I show you all the tricks I know for pleasuring a woman. How does that sound?"

Before I can respond, he's kissing me again, deeply and passionately. I can taste myself on his lips, and it sends a fresh wave of arousal through me. His hand slides down my body, cupping my still-sensitive core.

"Declan," I gasp against his lips. "I don't know if I can---"

"Trust me, Bree," he murmurs, his fingers working their magic on my folds. "You can, and you will burst like a firework for me."

And just like that, I'm putty in his hands again. His touch is electric, reigniting the fire in my veins and deep inside my sex. As I arch into him, craving the climax I know he can give me, I feel his big palms covering my tits. The sensation ignites an erotic tingle between my thighs. I need him inside me, need it so badly that I can hardly breathe. I feel his dick firming up and lengthening while I writhe like a snake beneath him, releasing hungry little noises.

This man knows exactly how to turn me on, like no one else ever has.

Declan places soft, wet kisses on my belly as he slides his body onto mine and moves upward ever so slowly. When he reaches my breasts, he cups them so he can lick, suckle, and ultimately devour them in a manner I've never experienced before.

But he's not done yet.

Chapter Eight

Declan

Sabrina's body has become a sensual canvas, blank and ready for me to paint her pleasure on her skin. That might be the most ridiculous thought I've ever had. But I don't think I'll share that line with her. She would most likely think I'm barmy. And because of Sabrina, I have gone half mad---with lust for her. Yet it's more than sexual hunger I feel right now. I want to get to know Sabrina Remington.

I might have a better chance of doing that if I hadn't stalked her this morning.

No, it wasn't stalking.

Then what was it, you moron?

Rather than answering my own question, I return all my attention to Sabrina's lush body. She writhes as I go on suckling her tits, and the highly aroused look on her face ensures that I'll soon grow hard enough to shag her again. But when she spreads her thighs and bends her knees, I can't resist the invitation she's just given me. I fumble with the nightstand drawer, finally opening it enough that I can grab a condom packet and rip it open. As I kiss her deeply, holding myself up with one arm, I miraculously manage to roll the condom onto my erection.

Now it's time to claim her body---slowly. I mean to milk every last drop of her lust and consume it until I'm drunk with her pleasure. I grip the pillow at either side of her head, giving up her mouth, and thrust inside her channel. The scent of her cream inundates my senses, and my pulse accelerates while I begin a leisurely pace of pushing inside her and pulling out again and again.

Sabrina gasps, her fingernails digging into my shoulders as her eyes flutter closed, her lips parted in a silent moan of ecstasy. I can't look away from her face, captivated by every subtle shift of expression as I move within her.

"Declan," she breathes, and my name on her lips is the sweetest sound I've ever heard.

I increase my pace gradually, reveling in the way her body responds. Her hips rise to meet each thrust, creating a perfect rhythm between us. I dip my head to trail kisses along her jaw, down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. "Look at me, Sabrina."

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