We kiss and grind and rub. When we’re both gasping and groaning, he grabs the lube from the nightstand, coats his fingers, and slides them between my legs, getting me ready to take him.
Then I show him exactly how flexible a man who plays my position can be.
“Stay flat on your back,” I tell him.
Then, I ride his dick like it’s my toy.
My man can barely move under me.
All he can do is groan and grip my thighs, as I show him exactly how I can fuck his cock with my ass. His fingernails scrape down my legs, his face twisting and contorting with pleasure. He stretches his neck, the cords tight, the veins pulsing. “Do it harder. Take me deeper.”
“You want me to work you over?” I ask as I bounce on his cock.
“Go crazy on me,” he rasps out.
And I do. I pound his dick faster, rougher, till he growls like an animal and grips my hips to still me. He sits up straight, stares at me with the most carnal look ever in his eyes. “Get under me. Now, fucking now.”
“Thank you,” I say, scrambling off him, getting on all fours, arching my back, lifting my ass, and giving him all the access in the world.
This was the first way I imagined him taking me. This was my original fantasy when I was younger, when I hadn’t been with anyone, when I had no idea how spectacular sex could be.
Back then, I imagined a man like him wanting me like this.
But wanting all of me too.
Body, heart, mind.
I wanted passion in my life. Wanted someone who was all in. I’ve always longed for a man to give me everything. Truly, though, I’ve longed for one man to give me everything.
Him.
I have Declan now. All of his body, all of his heart, and all of his love.
“Get in me. Get in me now,” I grit out, practically grinding my teeth from the staggering power of lust.
He slides all the way home. I see stars. Beautiful, bright, flashing stars. He drags a hand down my back, pushing my shoulders to the bed.
“You look so good like that,” he rasps out.
I turn my face, savoring the look in his eyes as he goes deep. Yes, this was what I wanted to experience.
Passion.
I had it with him. I lost it with him. Together, we found it again.
Now, I know exactly what passionate sex is.
It’s when you love.
It’s when you trust.
It’s when you give.
It is us, in our bed, in our home, together at last. He takes me hard, covering me with his body, his stubble scraping my skin as he kisses my neck. “Want to come inside you, and you finish in me. Say you will, babe. Say you’ll fuck me just like this right now,” he growls in my ear.
I combust. I burn everywhere. A forest fire eats me alive, wraps me in flames. There is no other answer but yes. “Yes. Do it. Give it to me now,” I urge.
With a savage groan, he weaves his fingers into my hair, drives into me hard, then shudders, flooding me with his hot release. I grip the base of my cock, holding it tight to stave off the orgasm that pulses just below the surface of my skin. Gritting my teeth, I fight it like I’m trying to scare away a bear.
With a wild breath, Declan pulls out, reaches for the lube, and tosses it to me. My man shifts to all fours. A few thrusts of my fingers to ease the way and get him ready, then I coat my aching length, notch the head of my cock against him, and sink inside.
I grip his hips hard as I bottom out, his body squeezing me nice and tight. My breath comes in sharp gasps as a wild, needy burst of ecstasy charges through me, sparking everywhere.
Noises rip from my throat, the sweet torment of a release just out of reach.
So close. So damn close.
He jerks his gaze back at me, eyes shimmering with lust. “Give it to me. I fucking love you. I fucking love you so much.”
And that’s enough.
Lust takes me hostage. I snap my hips and ride him all the way to dirty heaven. I come like a fountain from his words, his touch, his love, his possession, his passion.
This is my fantasy. This is our reality.
This is our life.
And it’s spectacular.
44
Grant
The next two days are a whirlwind of baseball games and schedules, phone calls and plans.
Declan and I go super domestic in the mornings, figuring out what he needs and wants from his place in New York, and what he can donate.
“I don’t want you to feel like this home isn’t yours,” I say, gesturing to the kitchen, living room, and beyond. “You can ship whatever you want, and we’ll make room for it.”
As he drinks his coffee, he rolls his eyes. “Yes, I care about furniture so much.”
“All I’m saying is if you hate my sex couch, we can get a new one.”
“Gee. Can we please go to IKEA next weekend?”
“Smart ass.”
He leans across the counter and gives me a peck. “Furniture is whatever. I love our sex couch. I do request one ground rule, though.”
“You and your rules,” I toss back.
“You ready?”
I straighten my spine. “Yes, we will have sex every day we’re together. You don’t have to make it a rule, man. I already plan on religiously following that.”
Declan laughs hard, shaking his head. He slides his hand across the counter, reaching for mine. “The rule is this—I don’t want to be your kept man.”
My eyebrows shoot into my hairline. “Was that a previous option? Because I feel like the trophy-boy thing goes the other way. I am four years younger.”
I earn an eye roll for that sass.
“Seriously, though,” I say. “What do you mean? Like, you want to split the monthly porn bill?” I brush my hands together. “Sure, done. You can pay me back with eleven dollars a month in coffee. We good?”
He sighs heavily, shaking his head. “I’m going to sell my place in New York. And I don’t need to buy a place here since I’m living with you.”
I shoot him a searing look. “No, you’re not living with me. We live together.”
“Yes, and my point is, I want us to be . . .”
For a second, it sounds like he’s going to say partners, and I’m not ready for that. Not yet. Doesn’t seem like he is, either, since he takes a breath, then continues, “I want us to be in this together. So, can I pay half the mortgage?”
I bark out a laugh as I move around the counter, set my hands on his shoulders, and meet his eyes. “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t have a mortgage. I own this house free and clear.” I sweep a kiss to his lips. “Just like I bet you did in New York.”
He dips his head, laughing. “Yes, I owned it outright too.” He raises his face. “I guess that means I’m going to have to buy us a condo on South Beach.”
I smile salaciously. “Miami, here we come.” I glance at the clock. “Want to go see my grandma and grandpa?”
“I absolutely do.”
We get in my car and drive across the bridge to Sausalito, where we meet my grandparents at a coffee shop that looks out on Richardson Bay. There’s a chance we could be seen, so we don’t hold hands.
We have a plan for how we’ll come out.
For now, I walk next to my guy, heading for the two people who are like my parents. They’re waiting in the back corner of the coffee shop, and Grandpa stands and smiles when he spots us. “Good to see you again, Declan,” he says.