Page 48 of Declan

Her lashes flutter, and she nods. There’s eagerness in her eyes, though tinged with uncertainty. I take a mental note: go easy on her this time—but there will be a next time. Several. She’s mine, and I intend to claim her every night.

I begin thrusting gently, letting her adjust to my size. Each push takes me deeper until she swallows more of me with each motion. My muscles tighten, struggling to maintain control.

Her eyes remain locked on mine, studying me. Her hands press against my thighs for stability as I hold her hair. She pulls back, releasing me, and I wait for her to say she wants to stop. But instead, she smiles.

“Fuck me like you want to, Declan. I want to feel the real you.”

Fucking hell.

My restraint slips. She takes me back into her mouth, gripping my cock. My hand tightens in her hair, pulling her closer.

“Tap my leg if it’s too much,” I warn.

She nods, and I thrust deeper, hitting the back of her throat. She gags, tears pooling in her eyes, but no tap comes. I push again and again, her gag reflex easing as she adjusts to my size.

She whimpers, her hand sliding to her cunt, fingers working on herself as I fuck her mouth. The sight nearly undoes me.

Pulling back, I withdraw from her lips. A string of saliva follows as she whimpers. I smile—such a needy firecracker.

Spinning her around, I press her back to the mattress, her breasts on full display. I spread her legs slowly.

She’s soaked. Again.

Licking my lips, I resist the urge to plunge into her. This moment—this view—is too exquisite to rush.

Kneeling on the floor, I push her closer to the edge of the bed, my fingers slowly brushing against her pussy. She hums softly—the sweetest, hottest sound I’ve ever heard—and my cock twitches again. I swear to God, she’s going to make me come without even touching me.

I part her folds; her clit is swollen, dark pink, her warm arousal dripping onto the floor. This is fucking heaven. My finger slowly caresses her clit, and she shivers, her legs beginning to close.

“Don’t, Vi,” I say, moving my hands to her knees and pulling them apart. All I see is her head dropping to the pillow and her hands rubbing her face.

That’s good. She made me go through my Irish soccer list to keep control, and now it’s her turn to suffer.

Leaning into her cunt, I let my breath tease her sensitive skin. She’s quiet now, but her body shakes as though she’s cold. I slide my tongue along her clit, moving slowly, savouring every inch ofher trembling flesh. She cries out, her hands grabbing my hair, nails digging into my scalp as she pulls me closer to her cunt.

I laugh. “Calm down, firecracker; we have time.”

She lets out a grunt, her lips forming a pout, and I can’t hold back another chuckle. Before she can complain, I dart my tongue into her hole, and she’s back to her sweet, melodic moans. My tongue works in and out of her soft heat, her arousal dripping into my mouth. I swallow every drop with a satisfied groan.

My entire body is tense, my muscles taut like I’m running a marathon. Every part of me aches to be inside her, but I need to bring her to the edge first. I want her to fall apart on my cock.

Pressing my finger against her clit, I let my tongue plunge deeper. She tenses, her toes curling beside me, her walls clenching. Abruptly, I stop.

“Declan!” She snaps.

I stand and I pull her hips to me and thrust into her as her release crashes over her. She screams so loud I’m sure my brothers heard it.

I keep thrusting hard, maintaining a steady rhythm as she shakes beneath me. Her head falls back, eyes squeezed shut, face flushed, her hands clutching the sheets with a vice grip. I silently recite my damn soccer player again—I want her to come one more time before I spill inside her.

Slowing my thrusts, I watch her body react as though little electric shocks are dancing over her skin.

“Declan,” she whimpers, my name a desperate plea. Sweat glistens on her forehead, her hair a messy halo that somehow makes her even sexier.

I move my hips in slow circles, waiting for her to return from whatever plane of reality she’s reached. Leaning down, I kiss her stomach, licking and nibbling at her sensitive skin. Her walls clench around my cock in rhythmic spasms, and a deep grunt rises from my chest.

I need to come, or I might have a heart attack. But if I have to go now, let it be like this—I’d die happy as hell.

“Ready for another one?” I ask, meeting her gaze.

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