Page 14 of Truce: Declan
"Okay, so I don'thatehockey," Charlotte says, tugging me closer, her arms around me.
I pull her tighter, rolling us around so I'm lying above her, straddling her hips. My gaze tightens, trying to figure her out. She's a mystery to me, one I want to unravel but concerned that if the threads aren't tight enough, it might just come undone.
"Do you secretly love it?" I ask, suspecting there's more than she's telling me. She knows how to play hockey and is pretty good at it, which doesn't fit the profile of someone who hates ice hockey.
She kisses me, and whether it's to silence or quietly tell me she's done talking, I'm all for it. We roll around on the bed, her fighting to be on top, and as much as I love to dominate in the bedroom, it's a turn-on when a girl knows what she likes and isn't afraid to command it.
"Have you ever been tied up?" she asks, a growing smile on her face.
I laugh under my breath. "That depends," I say, my hands on her hips, tracing a soft trail up to her breasts and then back down to her navel.
She shifts her hips, the smile growing on her face as she enjoys my touch. I'm distracting her.
Good.
I may like being in control more than I let on.
I roll her around, my hands pinning hers against the mattress at her side. Our lips tangle together like our legs, wrestling for control.
"Do you always have to be in control?" she asks between kisses and bites my bottom lip.
I groan from the pain, but there's also pleasure behind the superficial degree of hurt, which is vanishing with each passing second.
Damn, she knows what she's doing.
I like it. I should let her take the reins if she wants to lead, but fuck it. I don't know how much control I'll have tonight if she retrieves any type of restraints.
"Most women don't fight me when I dominate them in the bedroom." I pin her with my stare, and her breath catches in her throat. She glances away, a sheepish smile on her face. "Eyes on me, baby," I say.
The flush spreads from her cheeks down her throat as she turns slowly, meeting my stare. "I'm not like the other women you bring home," she says, and this time there's more certainty in her voice.
Charlotte pushes me onto my back and crawls down my body, straddling me.
"Maybe you should find the restraints," I mutter.
"What's that?" she asks, glancing up at me, her mouth hovering just over my cock as it begs to be sucked.
I'm throbbing, the ache tormenting me as she stares up at me, teasing and waiting for my reply.
Did she really not hear me?
I exhale a breath, but my heart is hammering in my chest. "You will be the death of me," I say.
She quirks a grin. "Good. Just don't die tonight. Okay?"
Before I have time to respond, her luscious lips form the perfect 'O' as she brings them against the head of my cock. Her tongue teases me, tastes me, and all further thoughts vanish on instinct.
Charlotte knows what she's doing. She doesn't need instruction, and the way her hands tease my balls while her lips move over my shaft is tantalizing.
My breath catches in my throat. I haven't had a blow job in months, well, not a decent one. Right now, her mouth, lips, tongue, and everything she does brings me closer to the edge.
I run my fingers through her hair, wanting her to take me deeper.
She understands, and I feel the soft hum from the back of her throat as I'm fucking her mouth. It feels animalistic, raw, and savage. There's nothing sweet or pretty except for her form, down on her knees, bent over, sucking my cock.
"Fuck," I grunt as I feel myself closing in, and I won't last much longer. I tap at her shoulder, gently trying to push her back and warn her.
She releases my cock from her lips, the doe-eyed smile follows with a giggle. "How was that?"
