Page 116 of Trying Sophie

He can sleep when he’s dead, I thought as I grabbed the heavy brass knocker in my hand and banged it again, putting as much strength into the gesture as I could. At this rate, I’d probably wake up his neighbors too.

But before I could worry too much about that, I heard rustling and then the locks being thrown. Opening the door just a fraction, Declan popped his head out.

“Sophie? What are you doing here?”

Pushing past him, I stepped into his foyer.

“I thought you were mad at me,” he said, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m not mad at you Declan,” I told him as I unwound an extra-long scarf from my neck. “I’m not mad at all.”

“I don’t understand.”

No, it’s clear he doesn’t.

I tossed the scarf over my shoulder and he caught it as I started up the stairs toward his bedroom.

Craning my neck, I said, “I believe you mentioned something about tying me up.”

His eyebrows shot up and a look of utter disbelief crossed his face.

“You’re going to need that,” I said, nodding toward the scarf he held loosely in his hand, as I pulled my sweater over my head and dropped it on the stairs behind me as I continued up.

When I reached the landing and Declan still hadn’t moved, I unclasped my bra and leaned over the banister. “Are you coming?”

“Hell yes, I’m coming,” he barked as he ran up the stairs to join me.

I raced into his bedroom and stripped as quickly as I could, leaving my four-inch fuck-me pumps on. I’d worn them only one time and had nearly killed myself, but if there was one thing I’d learned from the internet, it was that dudes loved a naked chick in high heels.

The second I took a (posed) seat on the edge of his bed, Declan barreled through the door, his chest heaving and his eyes wild.

Advancing on me with wicked intent, he dropped to his knees in front of me. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this?”

“You’re not imagining it.”

His eyes flicked between mine, searching. “And you want this?”

“I want you,” I confided. “And if this is what you need, I want to be the one to give it to you.”

He winced. “You don’t have to do this Soph,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I know I don’t have to Declan. I want to.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I echoed, setting my fingers against his chest and fisting his t-shirt. Pulling him close, I answered, “Because when you described the things you wanted to do to me, it turned me on in ways I’d never imagined. Because when I pictured you tying me up, I had to clench my thighs tight against the ache. Because when I thought about your cock jammed down my throat, my mouth watered.” I swallowed, just thinking about it making me hot again. “Because I’ve never done any of this and I trust you to make it good.”

“Fuck me,” he breathed out in awe.

“That’s the idea,” I answered.

He blinked and swallowed, then set his large palms on my thighs. Sliding them higher, he gripped my waist tight, his fingers digging in to my flesh.

“What in the world did I ever do to deserve you?” he asked, nipping at my lips between each word.

“You’re a fucking miracle,” he groaned before finally—finally!—capturing my lips, his kiss rough and full of want.

Declan fisted his hand through my hair and pulled my neck taut. He scraped his teeth over my skin and laved his way down until he reached my breasts. He wasn’t gentle and I didn’t want him to be. The sensations that skated along my skin were new and exciting and I wondered how I’d gone this long without ever feeling them.

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