Dirty English (English #1) - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,82

you next to me, it’ll be okay. I want you to carry me when I’m tired, and I’ll carry you when you’re tired. I want you to rub my fingers when I’ve worked a hard day making pretty things, and I’ll rub your muscles when they get hurt. I want to be the blanket that covers you when you are cold. Or vice versa. I want all of it—all the blood, sweat, and tears—no matter what dream you decide to follow. I’m here. Forever. I love you.”

“Unicorn Girl, God, I love you too.” Tears misted in his eyes and he blinked them away as I did a double take. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d ever cry. He gathered me in his arms and kissed me deeply, his mouth soft and tender.

After a while, we pulled back. “And I’m sorry for ignoring you for the past few days and not seeing what was right in front of my face. I—I was scared.”

He kissed my nose. “I knew you loved me—or I hoped you did. You couldn’t stand it when you saw me at Cadillac’s with Lorna. Hell, you couldn’t stand it when I deliberately flirted with her in class just to get you going. But you rejected me, and shit, it felt like you’d knifed me in the gut. I never want to have that feeling again. I never want to be without you by my side. And I hate to bring up Nadia, but you have to know that I never loved her—not really. Not like this need I have for you, to sink into you and never come up for air.”

My heart filled with emotion, and I battled my own tears.

He sighed, his face softening. “The moment that dragonfly landed on you, I knew you were going to rock my world. It was my mum, telling me to see you.”

I traced my fingers across the tattoo on his neck. This beautiful Brit was hers. “Nothing matters without you. My past, my rules. It all seems so unimportant now.”

He picked me up and kissed me while I laughed against his lips. “This shower is kinda on the small side. Let’s get out and get in the bed.”

His slippery fingers skimmed down to cup one of my breasts, his touch circling closer and closer to my nipple. “Always in a rush,” he teased, his fingers finally making contact with the nerve endings on my nipple. I hissed, the sound reflecting part torture, part pleasure.

I encircled my arms around his neck and leaned back, giving him more room to play, more skin to see. He slid his hands down to my waist and toyed with my bellybutton.

“I’ll never have enough of you. I think about this constantly,” he said, easing his hand down further to palm me. “When I fought, when I worked out, when I ate, when I was in class. All I wanted was you under me and whispering how much you can’t live without me.”

He slid a finger inside me. “This. You. Me. I want it forever.”

I didn’t give him a reprieve either. I knew what made him sweat, my hands coasting over his chest, flicking at his nipples with my nail, making him groan.

I moaned as his finger pushed deep into my center, sliding against the wetness. He strummed me delicately and then harder, his fingers like magic.

“Declan,” I murmured, tasting how his name sounded when I knew that he loved me and I loved him.

“Elizabeth,” his voice huffed out.

Passion slammed into me like a tsunami.

Tingles built in my spine, the heat building as I relaxed against the shower wall while his hands worked me. Teasing. Stroking. His touch consumed every single cell in my body, the drive to possess him and be owned by him. “I’m going to come soon,” I gasped.

He moaned and twisted me around until I was facing the wall. His lips landed on my neck and he sucked hard. I called out, and he did it harder. Making me squirm with need. I gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Making you mine and letting everyone fucking know.”

He moved me again, facing me toward the shower. With a gentle pressure from his hands, he bent me over. “Put your hands on the wall and hang on,” he said softly.

He ran his hands down my back, and I felt him grasping himself as he slid into my sheath, softly at first, but then wilder, going deeper, and I tightened my muscles, accepting all of him,