Page 29 of Declan's Hope

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Declan metHope’s startled gaze flying up to his, while the firm hand that had been milking the last of his release only seconds before went still. The other one she had frozen just inside the band of her panties.

Did I scare her?

He hadn’t meant to shout, but he wasn’t about to leave her to take care of her own needs. Not when she had so selflessly given to him. She deserved better.

He held in a snort. She definitely deserved better than him right now. Especially after the way he’d been such an ass to her—now and before.

He stared down into her beautiful face and still couldn’t believe she was here. When his silent alarm had flashed just as he’d been about to take his first shower in days, he’d figured Garrett had finally broken in to have it out with him. And if not Garrett, then he wouldn’t have been surprised to see Cal or Solace—maybe even the colonel.

Hell, all of them.

He’d been ready for a fight—almost ready to provoke one if he had to. But to find Hope standing there with her brow crinkled and lips pursed as she’d taken in her messy surroundings had nearly knocked him over. And with the amount of whiskey he’d consumed that day, it wouldn’t have been hard.

He hadn’t been drinking every day to the point of drunkenness—something he’d bet anything had run through Hope’s mind—but he’d just had it out with Mercy, again, over the way he’d shut himself off from his family and friends. Why he continued to answer the phone when his twin called he had no idea.

But he had answered. And, as usual, she’d driven home her point quite explicitly—his sister had a mouth on her when Kara wasn’t around—about what a selfish bastard he had been. So, he’d drunk away his guilt over the fact she was right.

No way would he be admitting that to her, though.

His gaze fell on the cum slowly being washed away on Hope’s exposed, full breast. A beautiful breast—creamy and tipped with a small, rosy, pink nipple. It would more than fill one of his big hands.

God help him he’d wanted her for so long, and now to see her marked as his had him swelling with need again. He eyed the rest of her ivory skin from her abdomen, down to her slightly rounded belly, then over her curved thighs where she’d rested back onto her calves.

A quiet whimper left her. "Declan, I need—"

"Shhh…" He pulled his hungry gaze back to her face. She might not believe it, but this was the loveliest he’d ever seen her—all those wet strawberry gold locks tangled from his hands holding her steady, flushed cheeks, a bit of mascara smudged under her eyes, and a look of stark need he could so easily see in those expressive green eyes.

His hand went to hers still wrapped around him. As much as he loved her touch, he needed to do some touching of his own. He pried her hand loose and held it as he went to his knees in front of her. Her sweet breath blew across his lips, tempting him to give her a barely-there kiss. Then he tugged her other hand from her panties and brought it to his mouth and kissed the palm.

"I’ll take care of you," he whispered against her fingertips. With that, he let go of one hand and traced his fingers down her chest and over her exposed breast, before dropping the other and taking her around her soft waist. God, the fantasies he’d had about this. But to have the reality of her here—to finally be able to touch her…

"Too bad this is washing away," he murmured.

Her eyes widened before her gaze went to where he ran his fingers through the remaining evidence of his release. "I like having you covered with me. Do you?" He tilted his head, while his other hand followed the bumps in her spine up to the band of her bra where he worked the clasp. "Do you like having my cum on your skin?"

She lifted her gaze and slowly nodded.

"Good." A grin—something he hadn’t done in months—pulled at this lips when her bra went slack. He eased the strap holding the other cup down and dragged it unresisting off her arm, then pulled the whole thing completely away from her and let it drop beside them.

"Hope."

Her nipples drew tight at his reverent whisper, the buds begging for his mouth. But then she shivered and it hit him how the drizzle of water hitting them had begun to chill. He needed to get her warmed up. So he reached behind him and turned off the water. Then he took great pleasure in hauling her against his chest before standing and pulling her up with him. Having all of her bare fleshed pressed against his nearly had him whispering a thankful pray. He didn’t, of course, but he couldn’t help but follow the urge to pick her up and cradle her against his body.

"I’m too heavy for—mmmph—"

His mouth swooped in, cutting off anything she might say. She was perfect, and even more of a goddess than he’d always thought her to be.

And she tasted wonderful. He closed his eyes at the perfection of her kiss, savoring her lips moving almost carefully against his—like she was testing the waters herself. It proved the kiss in his hospital room hadn’t been a one-off.

How that kiss had haunted him. Since he’d driven her away, it had lingered in his waking memory and invaded his dreams. And in those dreams he’d kept her by his side—kissing her, touching her, loving her.

God, how he loved her.

And right now the woman he loved still shivered, so he grabbed two towels from a shelf and carried her through to his bedroom. Then he stood her on her feet and wrapped one towel around his waist before drying her off with the other, taking great care to be gentle—starting at her hair. She’d been thorough with him.

Man, had she been thorough.

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