Down and Out(49)

A burning sensation settles into my eyes and I belatedly realize I’m trying not to cry. I swallow down the jumbled mess of emotions tearing through me and sit up. Maybe that will help me breathe, because for some reason, I can’t.
“I could kill whoever did this to you,” I say, running the lightest touch over a bruise on his side. His abs tense and I look up at his face, seeing his eyes clamped shut.
I jerk my hand back and grimace. I hadn’t meant to hurt him. “Sorry.”
His eyes shoot open as he stills my hand. “Please, don’t stop. I love it when you touch me.”
That was a look of pleasure on his face?
He places my palm on his chest, right over his heart. I feel its steady thumping right under my fingers, under hard muscle and warm skin. I gnaw on my lip as my own heart skips a beat, then starts back up at a slightly faster clip. I think the damn thing’s trying to synchronize itself with Declan.
“You sure I’m not hurting you?”
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” It’s obvious there’s a double meaning to his statement when he’s looking at me like that—like he just freaking won the lottery. It makes me wonder if he has an undiagnosed concussion or something. . .
After a beat, he removes his hand from mine and folds his arm behind his head, letting me know he’s mine to do with as I please. And right now, what I please is to see that look on his face again. The one that’s strung so tight in pleasure it almost looks painful.
My fingers carefully trail down the expanse of his torso. Every hard ridge I pass has my stomach somersaulting. It’s a beautiful sight to see him stretched out before me, bruises or not.
He’s perfect.
Scooting down the bed, I rest my hands on the mattress and lean down, placing soft kisses on the bruises lining his side. The ends of my hair brush against him as I go, but I don’t move it out of the way. Knowing how he feels about my hair, he probably loves this.
A quick glance up at him confirms it. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and his free hand fists the sheet on the other side of him.
I smile against him and press my lips to his skin, noticing the way his abs tighten with every kiss. Not wanting to neglect them, I kiss my way down his stomach, and that’s when I see it.
The look.
It’s even better than the first time I saw it. I watch his face while I kiss the dips and curves of his muscles, then boldly flick my tongue out in an open-mouthed kiss.
Declan’s reaction doesn’t disappoint. His lips part as his breath catches, and I know I’m in real trouble now.
Because that just officially became my favorite sound in the whole world, and now I’m anxious to see what kinds of variations I can make him come up with.
Sitting up, I wait until his eyes open in a daze to say, “So did you ever finish, um, jackin’ your beanstalk that night?”
“No.” He puffs out a breath and scrubs his hands over his face, not even bothering to hide that he’s rock hard. “Call me crazy, but the mood was kind of ruined.”
My fingers skim the waistband of his pajama pants, then barely dip inside. “I could give you a hand, if you want.”
“Seriously?”
The look on his face right now would be funny if I wasn’t so turned on. “It’s only fair after you . . . you know, helped me out the other night.” I dip my fingers lower, grazing hair before he grabs my wrist and pulls me back.
Why does he look so pissed? I thought he’d want this.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Declan says as he sits up. “That’s not how this is gonna work. I don’t want you to do this because you feel like you owe me one. I want you to do this because you want to.”
I do want to. I want nothing more in the world right this second, but I’m not ready to admit just how bad I want it. So instead I yank my hand out of his grasp and say, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.”
His mouth breaks into a smile. “So you want to?”
God. I roll my eyes at his increasingly cocky grin. “Yes.”
“Hmm. . .” He squints, like he’s really trying to figure out if he believes me. “I’m afraid I’m gonna need more convincing. Say, ‘Declan, I want to touch your cock.’”
Yeah, he’s perfect all right. A perfect ass.
My chin juts out as I stare at him. “I’m not saying that.”
He chuckles and leans down, kissing the spot on my shoulder where my shirt’s slipped down. “C’mon. I just need to make sure your heart’s in it. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Bullshit. He just wants to hear me say it. I roll my eyes again and sigh. It’s too bad my desire to touch him and find out what he looks like when he comes apart from my doing far outweighs my reluctance to say those seven little words. So I mumble, “Declan, I want to touch your cock.”
He jerks back and holds up his hands, looking at me like I’m insane. “Slow down there, Kitten, this is our first date. I’m not gonna let you touch my cock on our first date. I’m not that kind of guy.”
If you look up “aghast” in the dictionary, I’m sure it’d have a picture of my face right now. “After all that and you tell me no?” I shriek. “Are you shitting me right now?”
“Maybe if you’re good I’ll let you touch it tomorrow.” Declan laughs and tries to fend off my hits as I swing at him.
“I hate you!”
He grabs my wrists and before I know it, I’m on my back and he’s on top of me, pinning my hands above my head. His smile’s dimmed, but a trace of it still remains.