Page 80 of Donovan

Not with hunger, not with possession, with something deeper.

“Love you, too, Donovan,” he murmured, voice rough, wanting.

And then he kissed me.

It was slow at first, soft, reverent. His lips moved against mine like he had all the time in the world, like this moment, this feeling, was something he never wanted to rush.

I sighed into him, my hands trailing down his back, gripping the fabric of his shirt like I could somehow pull him closer, closer.

But then Declan deepened the kiss, and my world tilted.

His cool fingers slid beneath my shirt, tracing the bare skin of my waist, sending a shiver up my spine.

I gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, pressing me back against the couch until there was nothing between us but the layers of clothes we both suddenly wanted gone.

He kissed me like he still couldn’t have enough.

I arched into him, his name slipping from my lips in a breathless whisper, and the sound made something dark flicker in his eyes.

He smirked. “What was that?”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could snap back, he leaned in and nipped at my lower lip, making me groan.

Smug bastard.

I pulled him down to me again, sealing my mouth to his, showing him exactly how much I meant it.

And Declan, to his credit, got the message loud and clear.

THE END