Page 20 of Make You Mine

Amerie

“I thought I heard the sound of trouble in here. Turns out it’s just my wife… all wet, naked, and breaking several laws of temptation.”

I peek over my bare shoulder to find Declan grinning at me from the ensuite doorway.

It’s early in the morning, and I got up earlier than usual to shower. It was my attempt to get ahead of what was going to be another long, busy day, but as I look over at Declan and see the glint in his emerald gaze, I know exactly what’s on his mind.

…and I can’t say I’m mad about it.

My lips quirk in the same naughty way.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I ask, letting the hot spray of water wash away the soap suds.

Declan leans against the doorframe, not at all hiding the fact he’s tracking every droplet of water sliding down my body. “Mind if I join? Strictly in the interest of conserving water, of course.”

A giggle bursts out of me. “Oh, of course! That’s the only reason.”

Within seconds, Declan’s slid out of his pajama pants and boxers, and I’m standing aside to make room for him in our shower. We’re both grinning and holding back laughs like we’re teenagers doing something we shouldn’t be.

But, really, we’re trying our best not to wake the kids—and remembering past times when we used to do things like this all the time.

“Let’s hope this round fares better than Madrid,” he says, pulling me toward him. His warm hands slide over my wet, slippery skin, and he drops a kiss to the corner of my jaw, right where it meets my throat. “Although… I wouldn’t mind going down again.”

I smirk at his double entendre. “Mmm… that makes two of us.”

I feel his grin against my skin, the kind that makes my stomach flutter and my knees weak. It’s a reminder that, even after everything, he still knows how to disarm me with a few simple kisses and a dirty joke.

Our life together hasn’t always been easy, but one thing that has never changed is our devotion to each other.

Declan proved that again the other night when he announced he wanted me and the kids to come with him on his business trip to Scotland.

I couldn’t hide the disappointment from my face when he’d first started talking about it. All I could think of were the weeks of long-distance phone calls, evenings of missed family dinners, and nights where I slept alone in our bed.

The disappointment must’ve shown on my face.

But Declan proved yet again why he’s the man I’ve fallen in love with.

It makes this moment between us in the shower even more special, almost like we’re letting off some steam after recent stressors.

Literally.

As clouds of steam roll around us, we’re trading kisses and letting our hands wander our slick, wet bodies. I wrap my fingers around his semi-erect dick and start slow stroking him between our kisses, aware how the lazy pace drives him wild.

“Fuck, love…” he breathes against my mouth, hips stuttering into my hand as his forehead presses to mine. His lashes are wet, cheeks flushed from heat and lust.

“You know how you always say you last longer than me,” I tease as I stroke him with slow, deliberate movements, loving the way he twitches in my palm. “Seems like I beat you to it.”

He laughs, breath warm and ragged against my cheek. “Not for long, you haven’t.”

His hand slides down between my thighs, fingers parting my pussy lips until he finds the spot that makes me arch and gasp, back pressed hard against the slick tile. Two fingers hook deep inside me, the stretch delicious and familiar.

My head tips back as he begins to move them, his thumb brushing over my swollen, achy clit in firm, perfect circles.

“Christ, you’re always so bloody wet for me,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “I fucking love how soaked your cunt gets.”

I grip his shoulder, the muscles taut and trembling beneath my hand, and kiss him with a kind of desperation that forgets time and place. It’s the kind that has me panting and gyrating against his hand.

That has pleasure surging through my body as my orgasm swells from a place deep inside me.

His fingers keep moving, pushing me higher, and I tug his cock harder in response, loving the grunty sounds he makes. The way his jaw clenches and how he thrusts into my hand.

“Tell me what you need,” he groans, pressing his forehead to mine again. “I’ll give you anything, love.”

“Don’t stop,” I pant. “Just like that. Please don’t stop.”

My breath comes out in sharp bursts, chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm as his fingers work me and drag me over the edge.

I cling to him, my slick body pressed to his, the steam turning everything hazy and soft.

He kisses me deeper, tongue sliding against mine as his thumb circles faster. My knees start to tremble, feeling like they’re about to give out.

I break the kiss with a gasp, burying my face against his shoulder, my lips brushing the curve of his neck as I moan, “Fuck, Declan?—”

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice dark and reverent against my ear. “Come for me, Amerie. Let go, love. Come on my fingers.”

And just like that, the pressure releases.

My body tenses then shudders violently in his arms as the orgasm hits—hot and breath-stealing, rolling through me in a wave that makes my back arch and my toes curl against the tile.

I cry out, shaking in his arms while he keeps his hand between my thighs, slowing only when I’m twitching and oversensitive, panting against his neck.

My hand is still on him—he’s hard and pulsing, his cock twitching in my grip—and I want to give him the same release he just gave me.

I blink through the aftershocks, finding his mouth again for a kiss, soft and grateful and laced with lingering heat.

“Your turn,” I whisper, breathless. “Let me take care of you.”

I lower myself, knees hitting the slick tile as the warm spray continues to rush over both of us. The steam clouds curl between us, blurring the lines of everything but his solid, muscular body and the heated way he stares down at me.

His dick is hard and heavy in my hand, throbbing when I wrap my fingers around him again. His hips give the slightest jerk forward, like he can’t help it, like he’s been waiting for this.

For me.

“Fuck,” he breathes, one hand bracing against the shower wall, the other tangled in my wet hair as I stroke him, savoring the hot, velvety texture of him. I look up through the mist, meeting his dark green eyes, and there’s an ache between my legs all over again.

“You’re killing me, love,” he groans. “On your knees like that… bloody hell.”

I lean in without a word, tongue darting out to tease the swollen head, licking along the underside before wrapping my lips around him, taking him deep until he groans and tips his head back against the wall with a thud. His abs flex beneath my hands. His thighs tense.

I hollow my cheeks, working him with a rhythm that’s practiced and greedy, using every trick I know he loves. My hands keep pace with my mouth. His breaths sound ragged, curse words falling in between clenched teeth.

His grip in my hair tightens. “Amerie, love… I’m not gonna last.”

I hum around him, letting him know I don’t care.

That’s what I want it. Every last damn drop down my throat.

His whole body seizes. His hips snap forward. He lets out a low, broken moan as he spills into my mouth, groaning my name like it’s the only one he’s ever known.

When he finally relaxes, I pull back and lick my lips, smiling up at him as he looks down at me with something between awe and affection.

“You’re a menace,” he rasps, still catching his breath. “A goddamn angel and devil rolled into one.”

“You started it, I finished it,” I say, smirking as I rise up.

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me on the lips.

We finish our shower as if the naughty interlude never happened, thankfully wrapping it up in time to wake Willow for school and for Declan to make his train.

“It could work out,” I say, balancing my phone in the crook between my shoulder and neck. I’m at my desk, typing an email up to my publisher as I’m on the phone with Declan.

It’s one of those rare lunch hours where he actually has time to talk. While I’m multitasking at my desk at home, he’s doing the same in his big executive office at Halberd’s London division.

He sighs from his end of the phone and says, “I don’t know, Amerie. I’m not sure there’s any gits here who’d be interested in a girl like her.”

“Why do you say it like that?” I ask, half rising out of my chair to glance out of the window at the garden below.

Chelsea and Willow are out there again, barefoot in the grass, giggling over flower crowns and ducklings. They’ve been attached at the hip ever since Willow’s Easter break started.

I’m not mad at it, mostly because it’s exactly what we hired Chelsea for, and she’s been teaching Willow all about the flowers and plants in our garden, which have been thriving all spring thanks to her.

What is there to really complain about?

Yet, as I glance down at the garden and see the pair giggling like school girls, I can’t deny a small pang of jealousy hits me.

Willow has always been my little shadow.

The petty part of me can’t help feeling like I’ve been replaced, even if it sounds ridiculous.

“You know what I mean,” Declan goes on. “Chelsea is a nice girl. She’s helpful and well-mannered, but you can’t deny she’s a bit… strange.”

I grin to myself. “Says the man who believes aliens once tried to abduct him.”

“Hey, those bloody bastards did try to snatch me outside a pub in Manchester! I was lucky to fight them off. I swear on my life they did.”

I laugh softly. “Okay, so she’s a little odd. But aren’t we all sometimes? She’s a cute girl. She just needs a makeover. Maybe some contacts.”

“I’m not convinced any of the junior analysts here are her type. Most of them are right wankers, love.”

“Well, think about it. It’s the least we can do. She’s been good with the kids,” I say, shrugging. I’ve clicked send on the email I’ve typed and snapped shut my laptop. “Besides, I’m not sure how much longer we’ll need her.”

“What do you mean?”