Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Beg For It 1) - Page 107

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Declan wrapped his large, strong hands around my waist. “You’re beautiful.”

“Wasn’t Gigi pretty?” She had light strawberry blond hair and a petite figure. I had to have a good 20 pounds on her, easy. But that was true of a lot of women in New York City.

Declan grunted. “I guess.”

“It’s so crazy, she’s your sister! Half-sister, I mean.” I had to watch my words with Declan.

But then he started kissing my neck. “Mmm.” I leaned into him, loving his touch. I’d craved it for so many years, longed for it, and now I had him whenever I wanted. I wasn’t used to it yet. I still marveled over the ability to reach out, touch him, tell him exactly how much I loved him. And then get all the same right back from him.

“How are you feeling?” He rubbed my stomach and I smiled.

“Great, honestly.” No sign of sickness at all. Of course, I wasn’t even a full eight weeks along yet. It might be right around the corner.

“Let me bring you some water.” Declan headed off into the bathroom and I had to smile again. He was so solicitous, so concerned about my health even though you couldn’t even tell I was pregnant yet.

I did wish I had my mother still alive to talk about it all. She’d died in childbirth with me. You’d think that might make me more nervous about going through labor, but I didn’t worry that history would repeat itself. My mother had been out on our ranch, far from a hospital when she’d gone into labor. She’d lost too much blood by the time EMTs arrived. I knew Declan would ensure I had the finest round-the-clock care, and as I drew near to full term we’d both make sure that I stayed within a quick drive to a full team of doctors.

But it would have been fun to talk to my mother about what her pregnancy had been like. Maybe she hadn’t been sick at all, not a single day? But now my father had passed along with her, so I couldn’t ask him, either. It made me sad that he never got to see me properly settled. He’d cared so much about me marrying well. Funny, he’d chased off the one man I truly loved—a man who it turned out loved me back. And that was worth all the money in the world.

It just so happened Declan also was worth a lot of the green stuff, too. A ton he’d made on his own, and now a bundle from his crazy wealthy biological family.

The baroness. Thinking of her perked me up. I bet I could talk to her about pregnancy. Maybe not about all the details of physical changes, but about the feelings and the process. I bet she’d be great at offering guidance. And maybe support, too.

And maybe arrange playdates with Princess Charlotte!!!

“Here you go.” Declan handed me a glass of water. I took a sip even though I wasn’t particularly thirsty. Drinking for two and all that. And it was so nice of him to think of me. I’d always known a kind man lurked underneath all that glowering. Turned out I’d been right.

He started to make a fire in the fireplace, and had it crackling in no time.

“Come here.” He beckoned me over in front of it. Enveloping me in his huge arms, he kissed me. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” I admitted. For a girl born-and-bred in Montana, it seemed a silly thing to admit. But in New York today it was in the 20s, and I wasn’t dressed for it like I would be at home on the ranch. In place of wool socks and work boots, I had on pretty little shoes with high heels. They looked great with my slim-cut black pants and soft black cashmere sweater, but they didn’t exactly provide warmth.

I was proud of myself, though. I remembered the first time I’d visited New York I felt like such a country bumpkin. This time around I thought I did a slightly better job of blending in, though I doubted I’d ever master that sophisticated fast-paced hustle of native New Yorkers. First, I smiled way too much. Second, I liked having random, friendly conversations with strangers. And finally, I enjoyed crafting. Those facts alone seemed as if they’d to keep me forever separate from the true heartbeat of the city. But it was a fun place to visit, especially with Declan.

“Let me warm you up.” With his arms around me, I was already feeling pretty toasty. Next to the crackling fire, he eased off my jacket and kissed my throat. I sighed into him, loving his nearness. As much as I liked visiting with and meeting his family, nothing beat time just the two of us. We’d spent all those years apart. Now, I never wanted to let him out of my sight.

He took my hand and we sat down on the soft rug in front of the fire. He pulled me into his lap and I leaned back against his broad chest.

“This sweater’s soft,” he murmured into my ear, grazing his palms along my sides, my stomach, around my breasts. “But not as soft as your skin.” With a swift motion, he pulled my sweater up and over my head, discarding it onto a chair behind us.

I’d noticed just in the past week or so that my breasts were starting to get bigger. That must be the first response my body was having to pregnancy, and my regular bra felt somewhat tight. I spilled out of the cups, my breasts practically tumbling out, begging to be freed from the restraints.

Declan growled with satisfaction and I felt it rumble in his chest as he pressed me into him. He cupped my breasts in his large hands.

“So beautiful,” he murmured in appreciation, massaging me, swiping his thumbs across my nipples. He always made me so aware of my sensuality, his touch and his words creating the sense that I was the ultimate seductress. I’d never felt particularly confident in my sexual appeal. In fact, for years after Declan left I’d turned off that whole side of myself. I’d functioned on autopilot for a long time.

But that time was over. Back with Declan now, he’d opened the floodgates and passion flowed through me, never far from the surface. I arched my back, pressing my breasts into his hands, loving the way he touched me, the rough possessive feel of his masculine hands, the sure and steady way he held me against his strong body.

Against my rear, I could feel him growing hard and I pressed against him, wanting more. He hissed between his teeth and brought a hand to my hips, pushing me where he wanted me.

“You see what you do to me?” he asked, grinding against me, and I moaned in response. He was such a master at building my arousal, guiding my anticipation until I panted and begged for him. Right now with just the pressure of his shaft against me, I could imagine how good it would feel if he sank into me. How fully I’d take him in, how deeply he’d plunge into me.

His fingers wound lower and unfastened my pants, then slid them down my legs. I kicked them off, happily giving him access, and he whispered his way back up my inner thighs.

“I’ve wanted to take you here in front of a fire from the minute we walked into this room.”

I tipped my head back, luxuriating in his kisses along my throat, up to my ear. He slipped a finger along the seam of my panties and I shivered at his touch.

“But I want to make sure, are you feeling up to it?” As he asked me, he pressed his thumb against my clit. I still wore my panties, but he knew exactly how to touch me.

“Yes, Declan,” I panted, bucking my hips up to his hand. Why didn’t he slip his fingers under my panties already? He liked to keep me waiting but I didn’t want to wait.

“You have to tell me if you’re not,” he warned me, stroking slowly along the silk. “Over the next few months you may have days when you’re not feeling your best.”

Oh, no, was he talking about cooling things off during my pregnancy? That was not happening. “Listen,” I turned my face toward his. “You’d better not be thinking of not touching me when I’m pregnant.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “Easy, now.” He brought me back again, pressing me against his long, hard cock. I sighed in pleasure at the feel of him. “No one’s talking about not touching.” As he spoke, he drew his fingers along my skin. The reverent way he touched me, it almost made me feel as if he were worshipping at my altar.

“I just want you to know, I obviously can’t keep my hands off of you. So if you need me to cool it—”

“Declan! Don’t talk like that!”

He laughed

again, clearly enjoying my desperate response. I liked that he was being sensitive and all, but there was a time and a place. Maybe when I was big as a whale in my ninth month I’d be feeling differently. But we hadn’t reached either that time or that place yet.

“So what you’re telling me…” he drawled lazily, sweeping his hands along my body. “What I’m hearing from you…” he teased me as I started to pant under his hands, wondering if I was going to need to rip my bra and panties off of my body myself. Because I’d do it, see if I wouldn’t.

“What you need…” Finally, his hand slid underneath my panties, his fingers finally against my slick slit. With his other, he palmed one of my breasts, pulling down the cup to let me spill out for his pleasure. “You need to be fucked.” As he spoke, he plunged two fingers up into my wet, quivering sex.

“Ah!” I cried out, my eyes closing at the sensation. He knew how to make me feel so taken with just his fingers.

“You need to be fucked hard and rough.” He took my nipple between his fingers and rolled it, then pinched it with his thick, calloused thumb and forefinger.

“Yes!” I cried out, pleasure shooting directly to my clit.

Without another word, he rolled me onto my back and tore off my panties. He ripped my bra to the side, yanked his own pants off and bore down on me. The rug felt soft against my back but he pressed down on me, hard, and then draped my legs up and over his shoulders one after the other. He tilted my pelvis up, his massive hands clutching my ass, his fingers biting into my cheeks in rough possession. I could feel the head of his huge cock right at my wet entrance and wanted nothing more than to sheath him in my heat.

“You want it?” he teased, looking down at me already panting and writhing beneath him.

“Yes!” I begged, knowing at this angle it would feel intense.

He sank into me, full to the hilt, filling me up and my eyes rolled back into my head at the intensity of it. I clawed at him, screaming with pleasure as he started fucking me, pounding into me, relentless.

“Declan!” I cried as he worked me, grinding my pussy against him. I felt so completely possessed, so dominated as he thrust into me again and again.

He reached out one of his large, strong hands and grabbed onto my breast, holding it as he pounded into me. “So. Fucking. Hot,” he groaned out, watching my breasts, watching his cock pound into my wet heat, feasting on my reactions.

Tags: Callie Harper Beg For It Erotic
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