Maid for Each Other(69)

“So where does that leave us?” he asked, toying with my mouth as I set my palms on his chest. I swear to God I could feel the heat of his skin under my fingers as the tiny bites of his teeth on my lips drove me nuts, like an appetizer that was perfection but not nearly enough.

It just made me hungrier.

“Giving in,” I said, and suddenly it was like those two words served as the flash point.

His hands brought me closer and he dove in, opening his mouth wide over mine and going deep. His lips, teeth, and tongue were hungry, fucking everywhere with me as we devoured each other beside the hotel room door.

Technically it was just kissing, but it was feverish and frenetic and somehow more intimate than any sexual act I’d ever experienced before this moment.

“Your towel,” he said, lowering his face to taste my neck, my shoulder, the hollow underneath my ear, “is about to go, Mariano. You good with that?”

Was I good with that? I was losing the ability to form words entirely as Declan made me weak.

“Your shirt,” I breathed, my head falling to the side to give him better access. “Lose it first.”

Suddenly I didn’t care what it all meant because I knew.

It meant everything to me, and that was enough.

“Fine,” he said, biting my neck in a way that made my knees buckle as he pushed me against the door with his hips like he was unwilling to lose contact with my body to remove his shirt. It was gone in a second and his hands were reaching for my towel, but I batted them aside because I was greedy to feel every single square inch of him first.

Oh, God.

My hands slid over his chest, hard and wide and solid and warm, and he looked at me with eyes on fire. His jaw was rigid, his nostrils flared as I dragged my fingers down over the muscled ridges of that perfectly toned torso.

“Nope,” he said through gritted teeth, setting his hands over mine.

“Nope?” I repeated, my voice barely there.

“I need you in that bed, Ab.” His gaze was all I could see, all I wanted to see, as he said in a near growl, “Now.”

I’d never felt more inclined to listen to an order than right now with Declan looking at me with a wild hunger in his eyes.

34

Bed Poetry

Declan

I lifted her and carried her over to the bed, muttering a curse when she wrapped her legs around me, hell yes. I was back on her lips, tasting every drop of their sweetness as my knees hit the mattress and a second later, I was stretched out over her.

“Is this okay?” I asked, lifting my mouth just enough to lower it to her neck. I was oddly into the smooth column of her throat, that graceful strip of skin that smelled like sweets and tasted like promise. I’d decorated it with chocolate diamonds at the jewelry event, and I was no less entranced than I’d been that night. My tongue was everywhere and I was a mess, an unhinged man whose only focus was the soft skin laid out in front of him.

I wanted to pen poetry about the slide of my tongue against the slip of her skin.

“Yes,” she said on a hot breath, driving her hands into my hair and holding my head in place as I dragged my teeth over her. There was a shake to my fingers as I inhaled the scent of her clean skin, and a shiver rocked down my spine as she slid her feet up the mattress and arched her back.

“Kill me, Mariano,” I said, raising my head to look into her eyes. “You fucking kill me, honey.”

She looked up at me through heavy-lidded eyes that humbled me, because I didn’t deserve a look like that, and I was no longer capable of going slow. I grasped her towel and pulled it loose from her body.

My hands trailed all over her skin, dipping and sliding, tracing and teasing, and my mouth followed, doing everything possible to make her writhe and arch. I was sick with the need to draw out every moan, distracted by the trembling in her legs, obsessed with the way she whispered my name over and over as she got close.

And the way she cursed when she was there?

It was intoxicating, a high like I’d never experienced.

I was blackout drunk on her body and had no plans to sober up anytime soon.

I kissed my way back to her mouth, capturing sighs on the way, but the breath in my lungs got a little stuck when I returned to kiss her slightly swollen lips.

Because the sight of her face made it hard to breathe.

Her eyes were closed, her hair a damp curtain on the pillow, and it pinched my heart, how beautiful she was. The sight of her soft face stung my eyes and my throat, and I might’ve broken down and started speaking in poetic tongues if she hadn’t chosen that very moment to reach for the button of my jeans with her very capable hands.

I sucked in a breath and froze, every muscle in my body becoming stone as those very capable hands touched me.

It was the sweetest torture, holy shit.

She opened her eyes, blinding me with hot amber orbs, and it was over.

We exploded into action, moving fast, a mad rush of hands and limbs and wrappers and frenzied kisses until I was over her, panting, swallowing down emotions I couldn’t express as I met her eyes.

Do you feel this, too?

Are you as terrified as I am?

Can you kiss me for the rest of your life?

I swallowed again and managed, “Are we good here, Mariano?”

35

We’re Good

Abi

“Are we good here, Mariano?”