Luca Chessman has been longing for love his entire life. The only problem is-he can't seem to find a guy that likes him the same way.
With his family cafe, Chessman's, struggling to keep afloat and no help from the bank, he's slowly accepting the d...
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After I clean up our plates and we finish the bottle of wine between us, it's nice to see Declan's shoulders physically relax. When he walked through the door I could see how tense and stiff they were but even now, I still want to run my thumbs through his muscles.
"You want to watch a movie?" He suggests as we walk through the hall.
Instead I take his hand and he flashes those dark eyes at me. I shake my head. "No," I say heavily. "Later. I wanna make you feel good first."
Declan bites down on his lip and he tugs me closer by the hand. Our chests graze as he stares down at me. "You want to make me feel good?" He repeats.
I nod. "Yeah," I rasp. "So badly."
My hands press to his chest as I move them up and over his shoulders. "You've had a bad day, I want all of it to go away. You always go above and beyond to look after me, now it's my turn to look after you."
He lowers his head a few inches and I cup the side of his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath my palm. "You are making this hard for me, Luca." He groans.
"What do you mean?"
But instead of responding, he pulls me into his embrace and wraps me up in his strong arms. My legs wind around his waist and our lips find one another within seconds. He holds me tight, as if he doesn't ever want to let me go. I pray he doesn't. His hands slide down over my back and he clutches my ass between his large hands, my own arms winding around his neck before I fall.
Declan carries us upstairs with ease and I love this feeling with him, that he could do absolutely anything to me because of how big and strong he is. But tonight isn't about me. I want to make it all about him and his pleasure.
We all know he deserves it. He deserves a lot more but this is all I can give to him right now.
Our heads twist and I'm fucking feral for the taste of wine on his tongue as he kisses me deeply, so deep that I have to gasp for a small breath. Even my toes are tingling and my head is spinning from the heat of our intimacy. We've barely started and I already feel like this. Fuck.
As we enter his bedroom he drops me down onto the bed, our mouths parting. I press my hands behind me and look up at my boyfriend. My boyfriend. I'll never get used to saying that because some days I can't quite believe it.
This man I used to fantasise about, dream about–he is my boyfriend.
I kneel on the bed and reach my hands up, taking my time to undo the buttons on his shirt. He watches me carefully and my lips twist to one side, his chest heaving with every button that pops undone.
My head leans in and with every sliver of flesh that showcases itself to me, I kiss it. Another button, another kiss. Declan groans quietly and cradles the back of my head as I inch lower and lower until his entire shirt is undone.
