“Oh! Declan!” I cried out as he teased me, licking, trailing his tongue in a circle around my nipple, not touching it, not giving me what I needed. “Declan!” I nearly screamed, until he closed his hot mouth directly over my aching tip, pulling it hard between his teeth, harder than last time. The intensity of it shocked me, how bad and good it felt all at once.
I smacked my head back against the wall, mouth open, eyes closed, my breasts in his hands, in his mouth, ready for all of it, everything, anything he wanted to give me. I’d wanted him for so long, so much, I couldn’t believe it was finally happening. He was finally touching me, here, in the dark, just us, the way I’d wanted. The way I’d fantasized about late at night, touching myself, guilty and secret in my bed, coming with his name on my lips. Now it wasn’t a fantasy, it was really happening, and it was so much better than I’d ever imagined.
But just as suddenly as he was on me, he pulled away. I lost his warmth, his power. The flames consuming me turned cold.
“Get out of here,” he barked, striding back into the shadowy depths of the barn.
“What?” I asked, breathless. He couldn’t be telling me to leave. “Declan?”
“Now!” he bellowed, leaving no room for questions, no opening for discussion. Commanding, firm. Brutal.
Tears burning my eyes, I did as I was told, the leftover roasted chicken forgotten on the floor, my feet somehow finding their way back up the hill. Crushed, I was unable to forget his heat, or the coldness in his abrupt dismissal.
But up in my room, I made up my mind. We still had a whole summer ahead of us, a summer of nights, dark and hidden and hot. Somehow I was going to find my way to him again. Now that I’d felt his passion, the way he wanted me just like I wanted him, I didn’t care what obstacles we faced. I knew we were meant to be together.