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As if his tightly wound self-control has reached its breaking point, Declan starts to thrust, drawing out and driving back in as he picks up the pace. My palms slide against the window every time he bottoms out, and the slap of his pelvis against my ass makes filthy noises ring out in the room.
“Declan,” I gasp, and it feels better than I’d like to admit, saying his real name with his cock filling me to the brim. “Right there. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—”
“Couldn’t even if I wanted to.” His free hand grips my hair, the fingers of his other hand relentless on my clit. “I need to feel you come again. I’ve been dreaming about it for an entire fucking year. But nothing I imagined was ever as good as the real thing.”
“It wasn’t,” I whisper shakily. “I thought about that night too, but it was never… as good as… this.”
“Then come for me,” he growls. “Don’t make me wait. Be a good fucking girl and come on this cock.”
My legs shake, my body tumbling toward the cliff as he moves inside me. I’m coming before I really understand what’s happening, wailing against the window, sweltering against the glass, not caring who might be out there looking in anymore. All I care about is the fire inside me, burning me from the inside out.
“Shit. You feel too good. Fuck, Spitfire, fuck.” Declan is right there with me, just a few thrusts behind, growling in my ear.
He props himself up against the window with one hand as he extends my orgasm with the other, not letting up from my clit, somehow knowing exactly what to do to keep my wave going. His rhythm stutters and he lets out a long breath like he’s been holding it for a solid year, burying his face in the crook of my neck as his cock pulses inside me.
“Goddamn,” he groans. “I needed that.”
I’m a little surprised that he came already. Especially since the last time we did this, I came countless times before he allowed himself the same release.
But then he pulls out, spins me around, and kisses me, deep and slow and satisfied.
“This is just the beginning,” he rasps, gathering me suddenly in his arms and walking me across the apartment and into the bedroom.
I only have eyes for the bed—expansive and soft looking—and I land with a satisfying bounce. Declan didn’t even bother taking off his clothes for round one, but now he takes his time, watching me as he shucks off his shirt and steps out of his pants. Somewhere between the other room and this one, he’s discarded the condom.
And he’s already hard again.
I squirm, looking at him. I want him inside me already. My body was used to it, and now it wants him again. It wants more. I want more.
“You love this, don’t you?” His gray eyes gleam. “Say it.”
I flush. “You know I do.”
“Of course I do. But I want to hear you say it. Your words turn me on so fucking much, Spitfire. Give them to me.”
“I love it,” I repeat obediently, too turned on to deny him. “I love having your cock inside me.”
Satisfaction glints in his eyes, heat smoldering in their depths, and I can tell he wasn’t lying about the effect my words have on him.
“I’ve waited a long goddamn time for this,” he murmurs, reaching for the bedside table. He takes out another condom and rolls it over himself. “Watching you. Wanting you. When I turned the corner and saw you in the Dynasty offices that day, it took everything I had not to pull you into the nearest empty office, drag your skirt up over those perfectly curvaceous hips, and redden your ass by fucking you so hard and deep you’d feel me for days.”
“Funny,” I can’t help but point out. “Because you looked more like you wanted to spank me for daring to show up at your company and take you by surprise.”
“With you, Spitfire?” He chuckles, the sound a low rumble. “Spanking is never off the table.”
I laugh, even as the promise in his voice makes me shiver.
He wasn’t able to really see me when he was fucking me against the window, but now he watches my face carefully as he takes me by each ankle, spreading my legs for him. He pulls me to the edge of the bed until I’m positioned how he wants me, all but hanging off to make his entrance that much easier standing up, at the edge of the bed.
I’m still wet enough that he slides right in, even though it’s still a tight fit, and a muscle jumps in his jaw as I bend my knees and take him even deeper.
I still don’t know quite how he fits. But it somehow works—precariously. Impossibly. But also deliciously. He strikes someplace deep inside me that I can’t explain, no matter what angle he fucks me at.
“Wanna spend all night inside you,” he groans. “Nobody takes me like you do. How are you so damn perfect?”
All I can do is moan in response. I gasp as he withdraws almost completely before snapping forward, driving into me. Taking me apart and putting me back together again and again and again.
He pounds into me, his dark hair falling down over his forehead as it gathers sweat. I watch him through slitted eyes, throwing my arm over my mouth so I don’t make so much noise.
