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I love the way my hands look on her skin—a smooth, blank canvas for me to lay my ink to.
I move inside her at a leisurely pace, eyes hooked on where we connect, where my cock moves in and out of her, glistening with her arousal. I fuck her deep, angled to hit her most sensitive spot each time I retreat.
It’s soft, and it’s slow, and it’s filled with every goddamn word I haven’t said to her yet.I adore you. I’m obsessed with you. I can’t get enough of you. I want you, for a goddamn eternity. I want to build a future with you. I want my ring on your finger, and my child in your stomach. I want everything with you.
Her moans slither over me. “Jude, I—oh my god, I’m already so close.” Her words come in pants and soft whines that have my balls drawing up tight.
“Fuck yeah, you are, baby. Let me feel you come around me.” I thrust into her deeper, dragging against her inner walls. My thumb circles tighter, increasing the pressure on her clit. “Let me feel you squeezing so fucking tight around me, wet heat dripping down my cock.”
“Oh, shit.”Her hands tighten around my shoulders, nails leaving more marks on my skin, and I want to tattoo them there as a reminder of how fucking good we feel together. “Jude, Jude—ohhhh,”she cries out as she comes, the tightening of her pussy walls milking my own orgasm free without warning.
I pump into her a final time, shooting so fucking hard my vision goes black. Pleasure tears through me, ripping my soul in half, handing each piece over to her to piece back together.
And I haven’t even made it to theasking her to be my girlfriendpart, yet.
______
Hours later, Declan is sleeping peacefully at my side. On the floor of our hotel room, because we still couldn’t keep our goddamn hands off each other. I rise to my knees, wedge my arms beneath her, lift her from the ground, and carry her to the massive bed in the adjoining room.
She doesn’t so much as make a sound.
Amusement tugs at the edges of my smile.
I carefully lay her down on the mattress after pulling the sheets and blanket down, and I feel rooted where I stand as I take her in.
Light pink hair a mess around her face. Eyelashes splayed against her cheeks. Lips parted with soft breaths as she sleeps.
She’s so goddamn beautiful it makes my chest ache.
I sink into bed behind her, wrapping an arm around her middle, and drag her into me. My hand seems to have a mind of its own, running up and down the side of her naked body. Her skin is soft beneath my touch, warm, smooth, perfect.
My chest tightens further.
This girl means the world to me. Even from states away and far too much time spent apart, she’s grown to mean more to me than I could’ve ever imagined possible.
When I learned I’d have two days to head back home, she was the only person on my mind. I didn’t stop by to see my parents or my friends, I went straight to her—and I won’t be seeing them before I leave either, though they’ll be flying out in a few short weeks to come visit and see my new place.
All I wanted was to see Declan. Be with her. Spend time with her. Exist in her fucking orbit.
I missed the hell out of her, and the last twenty-four hours have proven to be every reminder of why. I’ve always been drawn to her, attracted to her, in awe of her—her resilience, strength, and beauty—but something about this visit is hitting different. I don’t think it’s simply because our time has been limited this visit—but because it’sbeenlimited, this past year, both of us so fucking busy.
The more time we’ve spent apart, the more apparent it is I need more of her. The past day spent with her has only made that need grow stronger. I need so much fucking more. Not only her phone calls and texts, not only her friendship, not only the intimacy we share from fourteen-hundred miles apart, and not even the ingrained memory of these intense past twenty-four hours—but more than that. All of her, if I’m being real. I don’t only want her mind, or her time, or her body, I want her fucking heart.
I want to own it completely.
Because she already owns mine.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Declan
I wake up in the most luxurious bed I have ever existed inside of. The softest sheets brush against my naked skin as I stretch my body, and the most decadent, plush, oversized comforter swallows me whole. That, and the heat, the firmness, of Jude’s body beneath my fingertips and underneath my leg where it’s draped over him, the soreness tightening every muscle inside my body, and the delicious ache that’s settled between my legs, all make for the best morning I’ve had in… well, my entire life, maybe.
Pressing even closer to Jude beneath the blanket and sheet, I plant kisses across his chest, down his stomach, and back up his side.
He’s still fast asleep, none the wiser.
Jude is an athlete—more in shape than anyone else I know—but I can’t say I’m surprised the last two days have taken it out of him. We’ve been at each other almost constantly, too ravenous, too insatiable, too hungry for each other. I’m as exhausted as he is, but I jolted awake with the knowledge that he’s leaving today, anxiety breeding butterflies of anxiousness in my stomach, and I haven’t been able to settle them down enough to fall back asleep.