by Jane Cousins
Declan stared down at her, grinning. “You won the bet. We’re moving on to the next one.” He planted several kisses along the fragile line of her throat, nuzzling the sensitive skin beneath one ear.
“Do tell?” Darcy arched into him, his lips on her skin sent addictive hot and cold shivers zipping up and down her spine.
“Last one to come… wins.”
“Wins what?” Darcy turned her head so that their lips met. Damn, he kissed like he was the undisputed reigning Olympic Gold medallist. Demanding, challenging her, accepting nothing less than everything she had to give. She almost growled when he broke their kiss.
“The right to come again… and again and again.”
“Now that’s my kind of stakes.” She issued a soft, sexy laugh, before rising up to recapture his lips, trailing her hands down over all that sinfully sculpted muscle. The winner to take all, not that there would exactly be a loser, but still, bragging rights were in play. And Darcy did so love to win.
There was only one little problem with her plan to win, Declan. The man was a master. His lips on hers sent blazing trickles of fiery fingers pulsing through her veins to pool between her legs. His hands running over her body resulted in frostbite tendrils of icy pulses zipping down the web making it vibrate, causing all her senses to fire and stay wide open so that she was all but inundated with a sensual tsunami of sensations.
The way he kissed her, touched and tasted her. It was like he was a starving man who had been presented with a banquet and he planned to consume every last morsel. She arched into him as his lips trailed a path of fire mingling with icicle sparks down her throat, to her breasts. Cupping them, lifting them to suck, nibble and tease. His fingers dancing down over her ribcage, across her sensitive belly to delve through the curls between her legs. Alternating between flicking and rubbing her clit.
Declan adored the soft mewling protests Darcy made. He was pretty sure she didn’t know she was making those needy sounds, but they fired his senses, hardened his cock and his resolve to worship her, savour this, their first time together. But damn, as she hooked a leg over one of his hips, pushing his fingers aside, rubbing her sex up and down his cock, her high heel digging into the back of this thigh, he all but came undone. She was so wet, so ready, and he was all but fit to burst.
He’d wanted this… Darcy, for so long, and now that he had her beneath him, naked, writhing, making those insanely irresistible needy sounds, all his long thought out strategies evaporated. All his mission plans melted away. Goddess forgive him, he surged forward, his cock driving into Darcy like they were two interlocking puzzle pieces.
Darcy bit her lip so she wouldn’t growl out a hallelujah. Damn, he felt good inside her, filling and stretching her. She gripped at his gorgeously sculpted abs and hips, urging him deeper, harder… faster. Planting her lips on his even as she panted, grinning, revelling in the bolts of heat and cold that zipped along the web, intermingling, more powerful, more heady than ever before. She wasn’t sure whether to demand Declan stop, that it was all too much, or cling to him even tighter and let the crashing torrent of alternating sizzling and icy sensations sweep her away.
Since she could barely catch her breath, and the feel of Declan’s cock pumping into her was something that she was quickly becoming addicted to, she tamped down the urge to do anything but revel in this moment, surging up to meet his thrusts. Nails digging into his hips in encouragement, more… so much more.
Declan was all but enslaved by the feel of Darcy beneath him, her sex gripping his cock tightly with every thrust, it was heavenly. This was a fantasy long time in coming true… but something was missing, something niggled at him. Which he was grateful for, since it meant he wasn’t blowing his load early and bringing this moment to an end. And it was frustrating as he couldn’t seem to put his finger on what was bothering him.
Darcy was here. Naked. More than willing, a demanding partner. Her hands travelling over his flesh. Her lips meeting his, trailing kisses over his throat, his chest. Her teeth nipping at him, leaving tingling just shy of painful impressions behind, as if she were trying to leave her mark on him. Between kisses and bites Darcy was panting softly, but she’d stopped making those delightful needy sounds.
Sounds, that was it, he needed to hear her say his name. Acknowledge that he was the one driving her mindless with passion.
Arching back away from her, he liked that Darcy couldn’t help but moan a protest. He wasn’t a complete martyr, he didn’t stop pistoning into that hot, tight, glorious heat. Darcy reached to pull him back down, but Declan resisted. She rolled her eyes, sending him a - you have to be kidding me look.
“What?” She managed to form the word between panting breaths.
“Say my name.”
“There is… no way… I can manage… a come hither… damn it, harder… voice… right now.”
“Just say it, Darcy. Say my name.”
Crap, she didn’t like being backed into a corner, especially when Declan was giving his demand so much gravitas. She tried to compute the angles, what saying his name would cost her. But she could see no win in it for him. And quite frankly she missed the feel of his chest against her, his hands gripping and demanding. Oh, sure, the fucking was nice, but she missed the contact, the connection. “Declan.” She said it, moaning as he abruptly sank into her deeper, harder than ever before. Clutching her to him. “Don’t stop. Declan. Don’t stop.” She sank into his kiss, breathing was so overrated.
Bloody hell, those clear blue eyes of hers shimmered with leaping frozen flames. The sight almost made him come. But he shook off the impact, doubling down, clutching at her hips, pulling her even closer. Rising up on his knees slightly he knew by the way that Darcy’s breath caught in the back of her throat that the angle was better. Pistoning back and forth. Ensuring the length of his cock rubbed her swollen and sensitive clit. Those glacial shimmering flames burned hotter, she, they, were so close now. One, twice… on the third thrust an orgasm shot through them both.
Darcy cried out Declan’s name, her voice intermingling with his groan of release as a final wave of sensation crashed through the web, smashing into her core, all her nerve endings firing and flaring at the same time. Her spine arched, even as she automatically clutched at Declan, instinctively keeping him close. Liking the way his breath was coming in harsh, uneven pants and his wheat coloured hair was dark gold with sweat.
Declan rested his forehead against hers for a moment, giving her a soft, breathless kiss before he slowly pulled out. Darcy had to bite down on the protest that threatened to spill from her lips at the loss of him. Moving over slightly she made room for Declan to collapse on the wide satin cushions next to her.
Normally, any other man, she’d be rolling away, grabbing her clothes and making for the bathroom. Things to do, places to go. But right at this moment she felt boneless… too satisfied to move. Damn, she tried to work up the energy to be annoyed at the power Declan had over her. His masterful bedroom skills had almost knocked the boots right off of her. But a strange… lethargy? No, that wasn’t the right word. What was? She didn’t think she’d ever felt the like before… oh, shit, was this happiness? Crapola, and even that fact didn’t have her pushing him away. She was in so much trouble.
She could only pray that he’d say or do something in the next few minutes that would set her world back to normal mode. Come on, come on, say something stupid. Get all soft and gooey and watch how fast she disappeared.
Declan turned slightly so he could get a better view down Darcy’s gorgeous naked body. Her pale skin glistened with sweat, her pink tipped breasts pointed to the ceiling, looking ripe and tasty. Her black thigh-high boots looked very stark against the taupe satin cushions, her sex all but framed by the ribbons bedecking her pull up stockings. Fucking hell, the woman was sexy, and he wasn’t surprised to find himself staring, captivated, his cock already beginning to stir.
He bit back on the urge to ask how it had been for her, she’d orgasme
d, no denying that. But he didn’t have any experiences to compare this to. Had she been expecting more? Longer? Rougher? Slower? Of, course this was his Hellcat he was talking about here, prickly as hell. So he went with his gut on what to say next rather than his head. “I’m pretty sure I won that round, by a second, if not two.”
“You what now?” Huh, no pretty compliments for her, not that she wanted them. She really should move away, get some thinking space. One round of bouncy fun times with Declan was permissible. Just to see what it was like… and okay, yes, wow, with a side order of oh-my-good-Goddess damn, the man was skilled. But once was all it was destined to be between them. She’d satisfied her curiosity. So they were done, right? Nothing to see here, move along.
“The wager. I’m pretty sure you came first, so I win.” Declan made sure to gift her with a triumphant smile.
“You think you won that round?” Darcy’s competitive spirit fired up as she surveyed the two dimples being dazzled her way.
“Incontestably. Hands down. Winner.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You’re disputing my claim?”
“Hell, yes.”
Declan leaned back, resting his head on his arm, staring up at the frighteningly anatomically correct mosaic overhead. “I think you’re just a sore loser.”
Grrr, Darcy Montgomery did not fail and she did not lose. Obviously Declan – never date a girl more than once – Benavidez thought he was some sort of master of the one night stand. Well, she’d show him… say, what? But it was already too late. Her instincts tried to warn her that she was being played but too many of the threads were still humming with a tingling happy afterglow. Darcy was sitting up and swinging a booted foot over Declan and sitting on his lap before she knew it.
“Double or nothing?” He challenged, reaching down to grip her toned thighs, one thumb brushing back some ribbons and dipping inside the top of her stocking.
Darcy still wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing, but then she felt his cock stir beneath her, his hardness lengthening and pressing against her needy, wanton sex. “Are you sure you won the last round?” She leaned over, running dexterous fingers up over his abs to his chest. “I mean, if you declare me the winner…” Darcy leant over and licked Declan’s left nipple, adoring the way he shuddered and his violet eyes blazed with banked heat. “I could be collecting my winnings right about now.” She leaned over and slowly licked his other nipple.
“You’re right… the judges have reconsidered… you were clearly… the winner.”
Darcy smiled, her number eighteen triumphant, evil, celebratory grin. “Thought so, now, you, the loser, better step up and ensure my winnings are all present and accounted for… I believe you said the winner gets to come again… and again… and again.”
Declan laughed, damn, he loved that wicked triumphant smirk on her face. “I’ll try to be as gracious a loser as possible.” He reached up to palm her beautiful breasts. “You won’t be able to accuse me of being a welsher.”
“Shut up… enough talk, start delivering on my prize.” She slammed her lips down on his. Hah, take that, she so knew she hadn’t lost their bet, not that there was strictly any losers here, but it was the principle of the matter… and the fantastic sex… but mostly the principle.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Handling a Hellcat, it was like walking a tightrope over the Grand Canyon during the windy season. Not for the faint of heart or for the stupid. “So…”
Darcy tried to keep her shoulders from tensing. Huh, here we go, Declan was going to give her his patented - thanks for the twelve hours of hot, toe-curling sex, but I only ever dip my wick into a well once – speech. She was kind of intrigued to hear it. No, woman had ever come to her office to not-file a complaint following a one night stand with the Master of Love. So it had to be one hell of a speech.
“… we should totally do this again some time.” He finished drying off and reached for the freshly dry-cleaned navy silk pyjama bottoms. Gotta love those hospitable will-o-wisps.
Darcy blinked, slightly concerned, as a thrill of weird, alien excitement zipped through her gut and arrowed in on her hard to believe wasn’t sore or satisfied sex. Oh, no, no. Her out of control libido liked the idea of more sex with Declan way too much. Clearly, she wasn’t thinking clearly. Still coming down off the orgasmic high induced by Declan. Who could only be described as a very, very good sport when it came to losing their bet. The man had delivered in spades.
She opened her mouth to decline, but instead she found herself asking. “Are you talking a friends with benefits kind of arrangement?”
Declan grinned, looking damn sexy, both dimples popping. “Works for me.”
Hold on, she hadn’t agreed to anything, she’d just been asking for him to define the parameters of what their arrangement would be. She wasn’t actually going to go through with it, was she? On tap sex? Declan Benavidez at her beck and booty call? The web certainly liked the idea, the merged icy and fiery fingers zinging along the threads in elation.
Uh, no, suddenly Darcy didn’t trust her own motivations, that never happened. “Um… I’m not sure it’s a good idea… the family.” Why was her argument so stuttered, so weak? Come on, slap this beyond tempting offer down before she all too eagerly leapt on it and lost any last shred of pride she could claim when it came to Declan. “My private life featuring as the number one story on the family grapevine? No thank you.”
“You’re not up to the challenge of keeping it on the down low? Surprising, given your powers.”
Oh, the nerve, he did not just question her abilities, the cheek. “Yeah, right, as if I couldn’t keep a secret from the family if I wanted to.”
“So that’s settled than. My place on the hill above the vineyard would probably work best. Between the hide-away spell surrounding it and the two of us being the only two people who know the Portal address, it rates high on the privacy and secluded scale.”
Darcy hid a frown, had she just been out-manoeuvred? Was she really going to embark on a casual, adhoc, sex on tap arrangement with Declan?
Hold on, his place above the vineyard? Just how many secret affairs, or ongoing secret arrangements with women did the man have in place? No, he’d said no one but her had ever visited the secluded cabin before, and her lie detector hadn’t rung. So this arrangement he was proposing, they were really going to do it? Her pussy was all but creaming with anticipation. Grrr, she needed to stop thinking with her clit and start thinking with her head.
Leaning over, Darcy plunged her face into the marble trough full of sparkling cool water. Scrubbing at her face. This arrangement needed to be clearly defined, expectations set. Approaching it in a cold, business like manner would assure that nobody got attached or would let unwanted, unneeded emotions enter the picture. Gasping, dripping, Darcy grabbed a nearby fresh towel and buried her face in it. Moving on to give her body one last rub down before she bent over to pick up her freshly laundered bra and knickers and start pulling them on.
“We’d keep things casual?”
“Of course.” Declan lounged back on the sofa, enjoying the intimate act of watching Darcy bathe and get dressed possibly a little too much, but hey, she didn’t need to know. Nor did she need to see that his hands were clenched into fists, everything was on the line here. Sure, a sex-athon with Darcy had been great, bordering on the bone melting. All those years of studying romance novels had paid off. She’d had no complaints, he was sure. But this mission wasn’t about one hot night, it was about a lifetime.
“Just sex… plain and simple?” Silence from Declan followed, so Darcy glared at him.
“Sorry, thought that was a rhetorical question. Yes, absolutely, it will be all about sex, though I’m not sure if I can live down to plain and simple, but I’ll try.”
“Public displays of affection will be forbidden.”
“Goes without saying.”
“No stupid endearments.”
“Agreed.”
&n
bsp; “No getting attached.”
“Things won’t progress any further than what I feel for you right at this moment.”
Darcy’s head shot round as she picked up her freshly laundered t-shirt from the neat pile the will-o-wisps had left it in. There was something about Declan’s wording, inner threads were vibrating, but he wasn’t lying. And the sight of him, sprawled on the sofa looking so damn sexy in those pyjama bottoms and nothing else, it distracted her from analysing closer the corner of the web where the warning had come from.
“Okay. So we’re agreed, we’ll have a casual, friends with benefits arrangement until one of us gets bored.”
“One thing.” Declan forced a casual smile. “I think we should be exclusive.”
“Excuse me?” That reeked of commitment overtones, he was lucky she didn’t smack him out of pure reflex.
“Don’t give me that look. I only meant, given we both have demanding schedules, what little time we manage to steal with each other, we don’t really need a third party in the mix, do we?”
Darcy frowned, but had to agree that exclusivity made sense. And besides, she liked the idea of not having to scrub off random hussy lipstick from Declan’s face or body every time they met up. Or catching a whiff of perfume that didn’t belong to any of the family and left wondering who he had been canoodling with recently.
“Fine. Agreed.” Not that she was possessive or anything. She just liked the attention on her when she was in a casual, so not getting attached, beck and booty call arrangement. Call her old-fashioned.
Wow, she buttoned up her plum plaid skirt, wondering idly if she could lure some will-o-wisps back to their realm, they ironed a wicked knife edge pleat. There, she looked around the room, at the rumpled satin cushions on one wide sofa. The picked over platters of dried fruit and nuts the will-o-wisps had provided them and then at Declan. Their twelve hours of hot fun and games was over. Time to escape from this realm.