Page 56 of Mercenary

I’m shaking, my entire body on fire as my legs drop from his shoulders and he lifts me up into his arms. My chest touches his, skin to skin. For a heartbeat, I think he’s about to hug me. But as quick as the thought occurs to me, I’m bouncing back on the mattress, with him crawling across my body until his mouth closes around a pebbled nipple.

“Two.”

He sucks.

I can’t stop shaking.

He slides his hand between my thighs.

I part them, flying on pure instinct.

“You ready to come a third time, baby?” he murmurs against my breast. His thumb slides over my clit and now I’m not only shaking, but seeing stars.

“That’s what you meant by one,” I moan, feeling his digit sink into my wetness. It’s as intense as the first time yet easier all the same.

He nips a nipple, rubs his thumb across my hood, and immediately, a third orgasm rumbles up inside me.

“Kiss me this time,” I say in a hoarse, throaty whisper. “Oh, Declan. Yes. Oh, yes.”

His attention turns to the other nipple, which he suckles, licks, and as an equally intense orgasm rips through me, bites.

The stars I’ve been seeing since he tossed me onto the mattress are supernovas. Like fireworks on the fourth of July, the kind with an extraordinary amount of blue. My favorite color.

Not anymore, though.

Green is—like his eyes.

Which . . . I can’t see . . . not with his head buried between my breasts.

Instead of a kiss on the lips, he bites my nipple.

But I’m too tired to be disappointed. To satiated—did I just climax three times in a matter of minutes?

Declan rolls off of me and onto his back.

I wait for him to say something.

Then realize grass grows quicker. “Is there a number four?” I ask. Curious, because not only is he still hard, he’s primed and ready, all suited up in a condom. Right then and there, I realize something about myself.

Because not only am I still wet from him, I’m thinking ahead toward number four.

Yet, grass grows knee deep. Crickets chirp. And as seconds pass, I wonder what happened to him getting his animal on.

He rolls away.

“You’re not planning on slipping away into the bathroom again, are you?”

No answer. The room goes black. He wrestles the covers free and pulls them over us.

At last, he speaks. “Go to sleep.”

18

Declan

Ilie here, waiting for her to wake up, thinking of all the ways I could take her. Her riding my lap. Her spread out beneath me as I pound into her. Her on her side with my thigh anchored over her hip, holding her steady as I sink into her. A full-blown Kama Sutra, the amount of positions I fucked her in my head.

Her tight wet channel milking my cock.