Dirty English - Page 66/71

He slid a finger inside me. “This. You. Me. I want it forever.”

I didn’t give him a reprieve either. I knew what made him sweat, my hands coasting over his chest, flicking at his nipples with my nail, making him groan.

I moaned as his finger pushed deep into my center, sliding against the wetness. He strummed me delicately and then harder, his fingers like magic.

“Declan,” I murmured, tasting how his name sounded when I knew that he loved me and I loved him.

“Elizabeth,” his voice huffed out.

Passion slammed into me like a tsunami.

Tingles built in my spine, the heat building as I relaxed against the shower wall while his hands worked me. Teasing. Stroking. His touch consumed every single cell in my body, the drive to possess him and be owned by him. “I’m going to come soon,” I gasped.

He moaned and twisted me around until I was facing the wall. His lips landed on my neck and he sucked hard. I called out, and he did it harder. Making me squirm with need. I gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Making you mine and letting everyone fucking know.”

He moved me again, facing me toward the shower. With a gentle pressure from his hands, he bent me over. “Put your hands on the wall and hang on,” he said softly.

He ran his hands down my back, and I felt him grasping himself as he slid into my sheath, softly at first, but then wilder, going deeper, and I tightened my muscles, accepting all of him, clenching against him. His body flexed and stroked, sliding in and out like a well-oiled machine.

“You feel so good. Never want to stop this.” His hands tangled in my hair and pulled.

His hand cupped one of my breasts, pulling on the nipple. I angled my hips higher to get more of him, to feel every single inch.

He pounded into me, his hand curving over my hips, the touch rough and then gentle. I got lost in the sounds of our sex. I went deep, my mind and body feeling part of his, as if we were one.

He grabbed my chin and turned my head around to stare deep in my eyes as he slammed his cock home. “We’ve got all night to do this.”

I closed my eyes in ecstasy.

THE NEXT DAY neither of us wanted to get out of his warm bed, but by seven I was back at my place showering. Declan was skipping classes to go talk to his father. He’d been tense most of the morning and didn’t want to say why, so I let it go.

After my first class I had a small break so I went to the Tau house to see Blake. It was ten by then and most of the brothers were up stirring around from whatever Halloween debauchery they’d gotten into the night before.

I asked where Blake’s room was and made my way up the stairs. I knocked briefly and when no one answered, I eased into the darkened room. He’d pulled the shades down and then tugged the curtains all the way closed. I smirked. Preparing for the next day hangover?

I heard a grunt, and my eyes went straight to his bed. That was when I noticed he wasn’t alone. Long, curly red hair was splayed out, half on his pillow and half still under the covers. I froze and squinted to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. A girl’s arm popped out from the covers and I saw a ring I’d made.

Shelley and Blake? It seemed crazy, but then I remembered all the time they’d been spending together. Here at the house … the parties.

Neither had seen me yet, and I couldn’t stop the silly grin that spread across my face.

I eased back out of the room on tip-toes, not daring to call attention to myself or embarrass them, but I practically rubbed my hands together in glee when I thought about how I was going to surprise them both with my knowledge.

I clicked the door shut and left.

THAT AFTERNOON I finished my shift at the bookstore and headed back to the apartment. My mind and body yearned for Declan, but just as I pulled in the parking lot, he was pulling out, a passenger inside a Lexus with an older gentleman who was the spitting image of Declan and Dax. Father? Where were they going?

I debated on calling him and just then he sent me a text.

I love you so fucking much. I need you bad, but my father is demanding I go to dinner to talk money. I’ll be home soon.

But he wasn’t.

I waited for him. And waited.

At midnight, I gave up and went to bed, crawling beneath the cold sheets.

Where was he?

A METALLIC SOUND reached my ears. I looked around the dark bedroom, checking out the balcony door, but it was shut. It hadn’t come from that direction, I decided, my attention instead focusing on my bedroom door that led out into the apartment.

It came again, a gentle scraping noise.

I tried to put a name to it and decided it was like the sound someone makes when they scratch metal with a sharp object.

Declan? My heart warmed, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.

The sound came again, this time sharp and clear as a bell, and a malign tingle went down my spine.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

I was fumbling around on the nightstand for my phone when the overhead light clicked on, blinding me.

I held my hands up to shield the light and blinked.

Gasped.

A hurricane ripped through my chest.

Colby .

His hands twitched, calling attention to a roll of duct tape and a small silver knife. His nose had a slight bend to it, testament to the night Declan had broken it.

He rushed me and I scrambled up to a sitting position, but my reactions were sluggish.

He lunged over me and I twisted away on my stomach, aiming for the end of the bed, but he caught my ankle and yanked me back. He flipped me over to my back and covered my mouth and most of my nose with his hand. “You were always a bit of a handful.”