Page 111 of Beyond the Lines
I’m going to have to show him.
With a surge of boldness, I push against his shoulders. He looks confused for a moment before I maneuver him onto his back, straddling his hips. His eyes widen, darkening as I lean down to kiss him briefly before sliding down his body, leaving a trail of kisses on my way.
“What are you?—”
“Shhh,” I murmur. “I want to show you.”
His abs tense as I wrap my fingers around him, and he’s as hard as I remember from the bathroom. But unlike that day, when I’d been a storm of emotions and consumed by both fear and longing, right now I know exactly what I want. And, God, am I going toshowhim.
“Jesus,” he gasps, his hips lifting involuntarily as I stroke him slowly.
“Nope, just me,” I quip.
I lower my head, maintaining eye contact as I run my tongue along the underside of his cock, from base to tip. His entire body shudders, and it sends a thrill through me, knowing I have this effect on him. He mutters a curse, one hand coming to rest gently in my hair.
I take him into my mouth, slowly at first, watching his reaction, and the way he holds my gaze makes my pulse quicken. His eyes are heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with desire, but there’s something else there too—a vulnerability that makes my chest tighten.
I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper, and his eyes roll back, his fingers tightening in my hair. I lose myself in the rhythm, in the taste of him, and in the sounds he makes—half-strangled moans that grow more desperate with each pass of my tongue.
“Wait,” he gasps suddenly, tugging gently at my hair. “Stop. I’m too close.”
I pull back, licking my lips. “That’s the point.”
“No,” he says, breathing hard. “Too soon… Too quick…”
“Dec, it’s fine,” I laugh. “There’ll be a thousand other chances?—”
“No, you don’t get it…” He laughs and gets a twinkle in his eye, even as I continue sucking him. “I’ve been thinking about you all week, yet I haven’t?—”
It takes me a second to figure it out, then I laugh as I sit up, faking a pout. “Declan Andrews, are you saying you’veabstainedwhile you waited for me?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he smirks. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you all the time?—”
Something warm unfurls in my chest. “You’ve been thinking about me?”
A disbelieving laugh escapes him. “Are you kidding?” He sits up, cupping my face. “Every night. Every goddamn night, Lea.”
The raw honesty in his voice makes me brave. “Me too,” I admit. “Every night. I kept replaying what happened at your apartment.”
His eyes darken further, a slow smile spreading across his face. “That’s a lot to live up to.”
There’s something in his tone—half-joking, half-serious. I realize with a start that he’s nervous. Declan Andrews, star hockey player, talented artist, and the guy who drew female nudes in class without batting an eye—is nervous about pleasing me.
It makes me want him even more.
“I’m sure you’ll manage,” I tease, but I soften it with a kiss to let him know I’m not really worried.
He flips us, pinning me beneath him again. “Challenge accepted,” he murmurs against my lips, and I feel his hard length pressing against my inner thigh.
His hands are everywhere—sliding up my sides, cupping my breasts, and thumbs brushing over my nipples until I’m arching into his touch. When his fingers find me, I’m already embarrassingly wet. He groans appreciatively, sliding one finger inside me while his thumb circles myclit.
I gasp, and in this moment everything feels like a perfectly completed puzzle.
“You look so fucking good,” he murmurs, pressing his face into my neck. “I’ve been dreaming about this—about you—for weeks.”
He adds another finger, curling them inside me, and I cry out, clutching at his shoulders. My nails dig into his skin as pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter at the base of my spine. Letting go with him feels as good as last time, but now it feels like he’s supporting me to do so, taking the leap with me.
And it’shot.
