Page 7

DECLAN

It’s been one hell of a day, and I’m dying for her. Fuck. It’s been a crazy week, and I’m ready for two whole days off with Natalie. In Natalie. Surrounded by everything Natalie. Goddamn. She’s managed to wiggle her way under my armor and into my heart.

The elevator doors slide shut with a soft hiss, and I’m alone with the hum of machinery and the faint scent of Natalie’s perfume lingering in the air.

My thumb hovers over the keypad, scanning for the thirty-eighth floor.

The penthouse is my fucking sanctuary, my lair, and now, my goddamn playground.

The city sprawls below, a glittering mess of neon and shadows, but up here, it’s just me and the anticipation of what’s coming.

Natalie’s heels click against the marble floor exactly one minute after my “come up” text.

She’s a fucking vision in that navy suit, her skirt hugging her hips like it was tailor-made to drive me insane.

Her hair’s pulled back tight, her face all business, but I know better.

I know the way her breath hitches when I’m inside her, the way her nails dig into my skin like she’s trying to carve her name into my flesh.

She stops three feet from me, drops her bag with surgical precision, and meets my gaze.

There’s a pulse in her neck, a tiny SOS I want to lick, bite, and claim.

“Good evening, sir,” she says, and fuck, that word does scary things to me.

It’s a fucking trigger, a switch that flips something primal in my brain.

“Good evening,” I reply, my voice low and rough. I open the bedroom door and wait as she walks in first. “Strip.” I can’t wait another second to have her soothe the spot deep in my soul only she can reach.

She doesn’t hesitate. Her blazer comes off first, sliding down her arms with a whisper of fabric.

She drapes it over the back of a chair, her movements deliberate, calculated.

Her blouse is next, pale blue and innocent-looking, but under the candlelight, it clings to her skin like a second layer.

She unfastens the buttons one at a time, her eyes locked on mine, daring me to look away. News flash, I don’t.

“Slower,” I growl, and she obeys, her fingers trembling just enough to make my cock twitch.

When she shrugs the blouse off, her tits push against the cups of her plain black bra, and I swear I can see her nipples hardening through the fabric.

She stands there, exposed and waiting, her chest rising and falling with every breath.

“Skirt,” I command, my voice tight with restraint.

She unzips it, lets it fall to the floor, and steps out of it.

Her panties match the bra, and her legs are bare except for the faint, healing lines on her thighs.

Not my marks but old scars from a car accident she had in high school.

I have the urge to kiss them, to trace them with my tongue, but I hold back.

Though my words say this is only sex, in my heart, I know it’s so much more.

This relationship with Natalie is everything.

She stands before me in her underwear, shoulders squared, jaw set. I walk a slow circle around her, savoring the tension. My hands never touch, but the air between us is charged enough to set my hair on end. At her back, I let my breath warm her spine. Her skin pebbles in gooseflesh.

“On the bed,” I say, and she moves.

She sits on the edge of the navy silk sheets and squares her shoulders. Ready for me.

I retrieve the riding crop from its place by the headboard. She sees it and her lips part, but she doesn’t flinch.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, voice low.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tips her chin up, biting her bottom lip.

I make her wait several seconds while the sound of our breathing fills the room.

The candles hanging on the wall slowly drip was as I whisper, “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

She spreads her thighs apart, hands behind her back. Her eyes shine. There’s a tremor in her left shoulder, and I know it’s not fear. It’s need.

I run the leather tip of the crop over her collarbone and down the swell of her cleavage. Her nipples harden instantly as I tap the right one.

She shivers and moans. The sound goes straight to my cock, and I have to count backward from one hundred to cool my goddamn jets before I go off like a teenager.

As I kneel on the bed behind her, the room fills with a tense silence, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and our breathing.

I slide the smooth, cool leather of the crop down her spine, feeling her shiver beneath its touch, and tap once, lightly, at the base, where her back curves gracefully.

She inhales sharply, her breath catching in the quiet.

"Count," I command, my voice steady and low.

"One," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

I deliver the next tap just above the curve of her ass, with a touch more force. "Two," she counts, her voice a little stronger yet still tinged with anticipation.

I continue the rhythm, making her count to ten. Each tap lands with increasing intensity, and by the time I reach the final one, she's breathing in shallow, quivering gasps, her resolve unwavering as she holds her position, her body taut like a drawn bowstring.

I toss the crop onto the nightstand, where it lands with a soft thud, and pull her curvy body back against me.

My palms glide over her ribs, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers, before traveling upwards to cradle her breasts.

I squeeze, starting with a gentle pressure, then increasing it, feeling the soft resilience beneath my hands.

She releases a soft, involuntary sound, not quite a moan, more like the sigh of wind through a crack in the door, and melts back against my body.

"Good girl," I murmur, my lips brushing against the delicate skin behind her ear, the warmth of my breath mingling with the faint scent of her hair.

She melts, her tension slipping away like snow under the first rays of spring sunlight.

I move back a little bit and move her forward onto all fours, then hook my fingers in her panties and slide them off. Her pussy is slick and pink, the lips flushed from anticipation. I spread her knees further apart, then slide two fingers in, slow and steady.

She gasps, arching her back. I work her with my left hand, thumb flicking her clit in a rhythm that matches her breath. My right hand snakes up and laces into her hair, pulling gently to keep her head up.

She’s wet and hot and clenching around my fingers. I fuck her slow, never losing the tempo, and she starts to whimper with every thrust.

I release her hair, shift my angle, and replace my fingers with my cock. She doesn’t make a sound, just braces herself, waiting.

I enter her in one long, slow motion, letting her feel every inch. She groans, low and guttural, but never asks for more. I set a pace of three slow thrusts, then one hard, then back to slow and steady. She adapts, matching me move for move.

“Don’t come yet,” I say as I fight not to go off like a goddamn firecracker.

She moans, buries her face in the comforter, and clutches it so hard her knuckles go white.

I hold back as long as I can, but her silky walls are clenching my cock in a velvet vise. When I can’t hold off any longer, I growl, “Come for me.”

Her entire body trembles as she comes and I follow right behind her, biting her shoulder as I empty deep in her sweet pussy.

I turn off the light and pull her close, already anticipating how I’m going to wake her up in the morning.

* * *

My eyes snap open at the ass-crack of dawn, five goddamn AM sharp, and my dick is already throbbing.

Natalie’s still out cold beside me, her soft, curvy body sprawled across the sheets like a fucking masterpiece.

Her skin glows in the dim light, smooth and warm, and I can’t resist. I slide closer, my cock pressing against her ass, hard and insistent. Fuck, she’s perfect.

I nuzzle into the back of her neck, breathing in her sweet and musky scent. My tongue darts out, tracing the delicate curve of her spine, and she stirs, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Mmm… what are you doing?” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

“Waking you up,” I growl, my hand sliding down her side, over the swell of her hip, and down to the soft curve of her ass. I give it a firm squeeze, and she gasps, arching into me. My cock twitches against her, and I grind into her, letting her feel just how fucking hard she makes me.

“Oh, good,” she says, but there’s a smile in her voice, and I can feel her body responding, her ass pressing back against me. I slide my hand up her side to cup her tit, and her nipple hardens against my palm. I pinch it gently, and she moans again, louder this time.

“You love it,” I whisper, my lips brushing against her ear.

I slide my other hand down between her legs, and she’s already wet, her pussy slick and ready for me.

I slide a finger inside her, and she gasps, her hips bucking against my hand.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” I murmur, my voice rough with desire.

“Only for you.” That’s for sure. If any other man even thinks about touching her, I’ll break his fucking neck.

I can’t wait any longer. I roll her onto her back, spreading her legs wide, and she’s so fucking beautiful, her pussy glistening in the early morning light. I lean down, bury my face between her legs, and she cries out as my tongue flicks over her clit.

“Oh God,” she moans, her hands tangling in my hair as I lick and suck at her, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

Her hips buck against my face, and I can feel her trembling, her body tightening as she gets closer.

I slide two fingers inside her, curling them a little, and she screams my name as she comes while her pussy clenches hard around my fingers.

But I’m not done with her yet. I pull back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and she’s panting, her chest heaving as she looks up at me with those big, dark eyes. “Fuck me,” she whispers, and I don’t need to be told twice.

I grab her hips, pulling her closer, and she wraps her legs around me as I slide inside her in one smooth thrust. She’s so tight, so fucking wet, and I groan as I bury myself to the hilt. “Damn,” I growl, my hands gripping her hips as I start to move, thrusting into her hard and fast.

She moans, digging her nails into my back as I fuck her. Her pussy clenches around my cock, and I can feel her getting close again, her body tightening around me. “Come for me,” I growl, and she does, screaming my name as she shatters around me.

I’m not far behind, my own orgasm building as I thrust into her one last time, deep and hard. I come with a roar, filling her up as she grips me, milking every last drop from my cock. We collapse together, sweaty and spent, and she curls up against me, her head resting on my chest.

“Best wake-up ever,” she murmurs softly. I lean down to kiss the top of her head, inhaling the subtle scent of her hair as I pull her closer. This connection we share has already grown beyond a mere physical attraction for me. Now, I need to discover if Natalie feels the same way.

“I know,” I say, drawing a deep, steadying breath as I prepare to test the waters. “I usually have Sunday brunch with my grandmother. Would you like to join me tomorrow?” The words hang in the air, a tentative invitation, and I’m not sure who is more surprised by my invitation, her or me.

“I’d love to,” she replies, her smile brightening the room as she snuggles even closer. Hell fucking yes.