Page 123 of My Husband Problem

I’m breathing fast, my entire body hot and tingly already.

I have absolutely zero pain or tension other than the delicious tightness of anticipation and the winding of a pending orgasm.

“You go right ahead,” I tell him breathlessly.

He leans and kisses my belly, pressing kisses up my torso to one breast, his hands steady on my hips, grounding me. He licks over one nipple, then pulls it into his mouth with gentle but firm suction.

Heat arcs from my nipple straight to my pussy, and I feel my inner muscles clench.

“Declan,” I gasp.

“Fucking love my name on your lips,” he says against my breast, switching sides and giving my other nipple equal attention.

The delicious coiling tightness in my pussy is such a wonderful difference from the muscle tightness I have fought for months. I relish it, wiggling closer to him. My hand goes to the back of his head, encouraging him. “That feels so good,” I tell him. “I love your mouth. And your hands. Everything.”

The knowledge that he won’t push for anything else until I tell him I’m ready also helps everything in me melt at the same time that it tightens.

“You’re amazing,” he tells me, his voice rough with desire. “I will gladly stay on my knees for you forever.”

My inner muscles clench again, and I need him lower. Now.

I press on his head, urging him between my legs. My hand replaces his mouth on my nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. It’s not as good as his mouth, but I much prefer his tongue and then that awesome suction on my clit.

“Oh yes,” I encourage. “More. Please.”

He laps at my opening, fucking me with his tongue before returning to my clit, and sucking harder.

I start to see sparkles behind my eyelids, and I realize my eyes are shut.

I feel his fingers curl into my ass and he tips me slightly.

I go back onto my elbows, and he spreads me wider.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, licking over me faster. “All mine.”

His possessive words also work to ratchet my need higher.

I try to clench my thighs together, trying to catch the feeling of the coiling orgasm, but his hands hold me wide open.

“Mine,” he growls again. “Give it to me, Firework. Fucking go off. Coat my tongue. Give me all that sweetness.”

And who am I to argue? My ploy to deny Declan O’Grady the things he wants has already gone up in flames. When what he wants is my surrender to the orgasm crashing over me, I am absolutely at his mercy. I cry out his name, my thighs again trying to tighten, but loving the way he holds me open, licking, and sucking, making the orgasm go on and on.

My entire body is trembling, and I am mumbling nonsense words except for his name, and finally, “I love you”.

I hear it. I feel him tense when I say it. I even realize that I should probably react somehow.

But I can’t. My body is completely spent, my mind is beautifully exhausted. And I figure I’ll deal with it later.

Because I do love him.

It’s not just a sex thing.

But if I try to deal with it right this minute, it will seem like a sex thing.

And after everything Declan and I have been through, it’s going to take more than just three words. I need to show him.

And I have an idea about how to do that.