Page 192 of Destined Lovers

Feck yes.

His eyes close, completely lost in me, as he starts to really work me.

He flattens his tongue, pressing hard against my clit, giving it the attention he knows I love.

“You taste amazing,” he moans.

He loves giving me pleasure almost more than he likes to receive it, and I’m not complaining. Declan Buckley is a fecking mastermind pussy eater.

His hand travels up to pinch and pull my nipple, causing me to buck into his mouth. He bites down on my clit, which only has my hips moving quicker against his mouth.

His head is moving violently against me, knowing I’m at the finish line.

Jesus.

“Ahhh. Ahhh, I’m going to come,” I cry.

“We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you some breaking news.” The newscaster's annoying voice distracts me.

Not now, lady!

Though I turn my head toward the screen while thrashing, a picture of Conor Byrne pops up.

“Oh my God!” I yell

“Yes, Angel. Give it to me, right on my tongue.”

“No, Dec, look,” he doesn’t hear me. He’s just collected my wetness and plunged his thumb into my behind.

And that does it.

I thrash side to side as my orgasm violently runs through me, my toes curling as I scream Declan’s name at the top of my lungs.

I shiver from aftershocks. Goosebumps scatter across my body.

I can’t speak and can barely catch my breath, so I can only point to the screen.

Declan gasps and sits straight, then helps me up and ties my robe.

“Conor Byrne, supposed head of the largest crime syndicate in Ireland with ties to New York and Boston, was found dead in his prison cell earlier this morning. A jury convicted Byrne only yesterday for first-degree murder, drug trafficking, and racketing. We don’t have any more information at this time. Once we find out more, we will keep you updated.”

“Holy feck,” I widen my eyes at Declan.

“Holy Feck is right.” He leans back and rubs his neck. “I wonder what happened. Probably had an enemy on the inside.”

I look at him deadpan, “On the inside?” I raise my brows, knowing my eyes are sparkling with humor, “Who are you? Al Capone?” I chuckle.

A loud knock breaks our moment, and we look at each other, confused. Only a few people know where we are staying. Killian and Ethan suggested we change hotels a few times in case Conor’s guys were looking for me before I had to testify.

“It’s Killian,” Declan says as he looks through the peephole before opening it.

Declan and Killian give each other the little chin-tilt guys do, then Killian smiles hello to me.

I know he’s not hugging me to be respectful to Declan because although Declan understands why everything had to go down as it did, he still has not gotten over it completely.

“Did you two see the news this morning?”

“Aye, we just saw,” Declan says.

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