Page 43 of Redeeming Meg

Just sex, she’d said, but they both knew better.

There was no going back to that point in their relationship. They’d come too far, survived too much, for it to ever be different.

He carried her to the bed, his legs shaking with his spent pleasure, but when she bit his lower lip, he was already growing hard again.

She grabbed him to her, desperate fingers scratched at his shoulders, his back. His wild thing.

Her legs were still around his waist as they tumbled to the mattress, tangled in each other’s limbs. Their mouths clashed in a hungry, claiming kiss.

He knew what she needed, and he intended to give it to her.

He pinned her wrists to the bed and tore his mouth away from hers. He bowed over her, staring her in the eyes for a long moment, assessing her.

She squirmed under him. “Stop looking at me like I’m a mission. You don’t have to figure me out.”

But he did. It was how he worked.

He looked at every problem in order to find a solution.

He examined every option in order to find the best one.

He analyzed every move, optimizing for the outcome he wanted.

Right now, he wanted her screaming his name.

Giving her a feral grin, he kissed his way down her collarbone and lower. He_ flicked his tongue over one of her nipples. She arched and whimpered, so he sucked it into his mouth, grazing the sensitive flesh with his teeth.

She again made that noise in her throat, and his cock bobbed in response. Every time he got her under him, he told himself to take it slow. He wanted to savor her taste, suck and touch every inch of her. Once she was there, however, it took every ounce of his willpower not to rush.

“Every time I see you, I want you even more,” he muttered against her skin, wet from his ministrations.

She tried to break free from his iron grip, but he held firm, sliding his tongue to her other breast and giving it equal attention. Licking, sucking, nipping it with his teeth.

“Declan,” she breathed, a plea.

He loosed one wrist, skimming his fingers over her flat belly and lower. Her knees fell open even wider, inviting him to touch her.

Releasing her other wrist, he knelt between her legs, propping her feet on the bed. She reached for him, trying to grab his shoulders, his neck, anything, but he batted her hands away. “Let me look at you.”

Even in the dim light of the bedroom, he saw a pink shimmer on her cheeks. The tough, demanding side of Meg would never admit to it, but she was self-conscious about her body. About her delicious curves that he couldn’t get enough of.

She arched again, impatient, and he lowered his mouth. She stopped moving.

He raised his focus to meet her eyes. Licked his lips.

She sucked in a breath of anticipation.

He kissed her first, a light, teasing press of his lips. He flicked his tongue across the bundle of nerves buried there.

“Oh…god…” she groaned.

He dragged his tongue through the swollen folds. She writhed.

He repeated the process. When she was panting, he filled her with his tongue, pulling out long enough to suck on her sensitive spot. Like he’d done with her nipples, he raked his teeth over it.

Swollen and wet, she was close to climax already, having never fully come down from the previous one. He gave her another slow lick and suck before he slid two fingers inside of her.

She arched, saying his name as if it were a command. He liked that, so he repeated what he’d done. “Come for me, Meg.”

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