Page 56 of Cross Check Hearts

“That’s it, hummingbird,” I murmur against her lips. “You already know what to do.”

I stare into her eyes, nearly losing myself in the unadulterated fire blazing back at me. I grind against her, my cock already rock-hard in my pants.

“God, yes,” she whimpers, her head falling back against the wall. My lips move to the crook of her neck to kiss and bite at the sensitive skin there, until I reach the spot behind her ear that I remember drives her wild. She instantly arches against me, her fingers threading through my hair and scratching at my scalp.

“I told you I’d have you begging me.” I roll my hips into her, grinding harder and more urgently against her center.

Her breath catches, and her hands move to the back of my head to pull me closer. Her nails press into the base of my skull, urging me on, and when I roll my hips into her again, her body shudders beneath mine as another deep moan escapes her throat. She squeezes me with her legs, refusing to let me create any distance between our bodies, and the next time I thrust myself against her, she whimpers and presses her face into my shoulder as her body trembles.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, and I realize she’s going to come just from this. The thought makes my cock throb painfully. I keep grinding against her, hard and fast, while one hand slips up her shirt to cup her breast.

“Is this what you were thinking about in the shower?” I ask, staring right into her eyes. I pinch her nipple just as she starts to open her mouth to answer, and her expression contorts as the words that were forming turn into a desperate scream.

“Declan,” she whimpers between breaths, almost exactly the way I heard her say it in the shower.

Desire rumbles inside me, like a storm building. “J’adore la façon don’t tu dis mon nom. Je veux que tu le fasses encore et encore,” I say over the sound of her moaning as she falls to pieces between me and the wall. And just as the last of her climax shudders through her, I grab her by the hair to tug her head back gently, bringing her gaze back to mine.

“Say it,” I order, but she’s still so overwhelmed with pleasure that she can’t get the words out. She stares at me with dark, dilated eyes. “Tell me what you were doing in the shower. I want to hear every detail of it.”

“I was touching myself,” she says quietly as she tries to catch her breath, and I gently tug at her hair to show her that I’m not playing around. I want the truth, and I’m going to get it out of her, even if I have to coax the words out of her.

“That’s what I thought. And you were thinking about me while you did it, weren’t you,ma jolie petite salope?” Her eyes widen at my use of the French words, almost like she knows what they mean. Or maybe she doesn’t and is just reading between the lines, but either way, I’m glad I have her attention. “Weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was,” she finally admits, swallowing hard like she’s trying to steal the words back. There’s something about the conflict in her voice that only makes me want her more. She likes this dynamic between us, and I know she does, but she can’t bring herself to admit it. That’s okay. By the time I’m done with her tonight, she’ll never be able to deny it again.

Because I’m going to have her begging me to fuck her, just like I promised her I would.

I smile and nod at her. “Good girl. Was that so hard to admit?”

The only answer I get is her cheeks turning a gorgeous dusky shade, and the sight of it pulls a growl from deep in my chest. My hand moves to her throat, and she gasps in surprise as I hold it gently but firmly. I stare into her eyes burning with all the things she can’t—or won’t—say.

“Tell me what you want, Hannah.”

“You,” she breathes, and I smirk at her before I press a kiss on her forehead, my hand still cradling her throat.

“That’s no secret. And I want you too, but if you’re going to be my good girl, then I need you to tell me whatever is on your mind. Can you do that?” She swallows and nods eagerly. “Good. Now tell me what you were thinking about when my name left your lips in that shower.”

“I was thinking about you on your knees, eating me out,” she says in a rush like some sort of dam inside her has cracked. “About the way your tongue would feel inside me, and the way I’d soak your face and chin.”

“Fuck,” I growl, and it takes everything I have not to drop to my knees in front of her right now to do exactly that. But I need to be patient. I can’t just give her what she wants—she needs to work for it, to prove to me how much she wants it.

My hand moves from her throat up to her jaw to cup it. I turn her face side to side, drinking in every detail.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” She doesn’t answer, just continues breathing heavily against me like she’s fighting for control. “But you know when you look the most beautiful?”

She shakes her head slightly, keeping her eyes trained on mine. I lean closer to her until my lips brush against her ear.

“When you’re sitting on my face,” I whisper, and my cock swells along with the goosebumps that ripple down her neck.

She moans and arches away from the wall, grinding her dampened pants against mine and making my cock throb painfully. I’m so turned on by her that I feel like I could burst, and I want—no,need—to be inside her again so fucking badly, but not until she’s so desperate for me that she’s pleading with me to get her off just to make the ache stop. I want her so fucking worked up and wet that even the slightest touch threatens to send her over the edge.

And then I want to watch her fall to pieces.

“I know exactly what you need,” I tell her, nodding.

She looks a little confused for a moment, then comprehension dawns in her eyes, and I swear I can see something ignite behind her pupils as they dilate instantly in response.

“Please,” she whispers, trapping her lower lip between her teeth while she squeezes my waist with her legs and rolls her hips against my cock.

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