Down and Out(85)

I haven’t relinquished control to someone in a very long time. I like to be in charge when it comes to sex. Every single time I’ve done it in the past two years, I’ve been on top. Anything else makes me anxious. I feel . . . powerless. Helpless. And I refuse to feel that way. I’m not a victim.
Victims say “no” and I didn’t.
Besides, I trust Declan. He would never hurt me. If I tell him to stop at any point, he will. I know it.
His arm’s in front of my face, resting on the wall. Pulling a hand away from his shoulder, I run it down the inked sinews until I’m grasping the outside of his wrist. My lips press a soft kiss to the inside of his arm, and when I pull back, I can still feel the lingering warmth from his skin like a brand.
I lock eyes with him, biting my lip as his fingers caress me, and nod.
“Good.”
He slides inside me, catching my gasp with his mouth as he kisses me fiercely. I can taste the tears on our lips, all salty and sweet, as my hands fist the sides of his shirt. For a moment, all our problems fade away to mere background noise until the only thing that matters are his demanding lips and how I can get them all over every square inch of me.
I suck his lip ring into my mouth and absorb the following groan that hums through him. I love that f*cking sound. It’s so guttural and animalistic, and sexy as hell.
His hand leaves my thong and wanders around back to grab my ass. He grinds his hips into me as my fingers run up his back and knot in his hair, then suddenly my feet are leaving the ground as I’m lifted up. My legs automatically wrap around him as he half-carries, half-stumbles with me to the bed. It’s probably hard for him to see where he’s going when our mouths are locked together like this. . .
My body slides down his as he sets me next to the bed, making my hardened nipples tingle from the friction. I have every intention of ripping his clothes off and laying into him, but before I have the chance, he pulls back and says, “Turn around.”
What?
I stare at his red, slightly puffy lips as I try to make sense of it, because I seem to have forgotten the English language in my lust-filled haze. When I don’t move fast enough, he spins me around so I’m facing the bed and tugs up the hem of my dress, lifting it up to my waist. His fingers hook inside my panties as he pushes them down.
Craning my neck over my shoulder, I see him kneel on the floor as he removes them. His hands skim up the sides of my thighs as he stands and snakes his hands around my belly, moving up to cup my breasts through the flimsy fabric of my dress.
My head falls back as his fingers graze my nipples. It pebbles my skin even more and heats my whole body. I feel it straight between my legs, my * clenching painfully and impatiently.
I can practically hear her screaming, “Gimme, gimme, gimme!”
His artful fingers are gone all too soon as he says, “Spread your legs and bend over.” His voice is right at my ear, rough and low, and has me shivering in anticipation until I actually register what he’s just said.
“What?” Slightly panicked, I try to look at him over my shoulder, but he holds me in place.
“Do it, or I’ll spank you.”
His words spark a fresh wave of heat and desire that unfurls deep in my belly, despite my apprehension. This is so . . . open. There’d be no place to hide bent over this bed and spread apart. It’d leave me completely at his mercy.
My heart’s beating so hard I honestly think it might give out on me as I tentatively bend over the impossibly high bed and spread my feet a little more than shoulder-width apart. He presses his hand on my back, making me go lower until the side of my face rests against the soft comforter. It triggers something in me long-buried that punches its way to the surface and has my eyes squeezing shut as I’m suddenly thrust back into that basement, bent over the couch with my face pressed against the cushion. Shame pumps through me, hot, thick, and slow as I struggle to breathe.
Nudging my feet farther apart, Declan says, “Wider.”
His familiar voice rips me back to the present, and I open my eyes, blinking as I take in the room.
I’m okay. Declan’s here, and I’m okay.
Nothing happens at first, and I’m left waiting anxiously while on full display. I’d turn around and look if I didn’t think he meant what he said about spanking—
Wet warmth licks up my slit and I gasp and jerk at the unexpected contact. Declan grabs my thighs, stilling me, as he licks another slow, torturous path up me. I fist the blanket next to my head as embarrassing sounds pass my lips and my breathing accelerates. The initial shock fades and is quickly replaced by arousal as he does this awesome, swirly thing with his skillful tongue that makes my legs quiver as I melt under him.
“You taste un-f*cking-believable,” he murmurs against me.
What started off as light, teasing strokes quickly turns into deep, drugging sweeps and pulls of his hot, wet mouth. My head swims as my body locks up, tension settling into every muscle as I feel the impending arrival of my release. It starts to bloom in the center of my core, right where he’s devouring me, when he abruptly pulls away and I’m left a writhing, aching puddle before him.
I cry out in frustration, clawing the sheets to keep from turning around and shoving his head back down there in order to make him finish what he started. There’s a rustle of clothes, then the sound of his zipper and his gravelly voice.
“Sorry, Kitten, but I need to feel this squeezing my cock when you come.” Placing a hand on my hip, the warm, hard tip of him glides along my slick folds. He hisses in a breath while mine catches. “Do you know how tight you get when you come?”