by Piper Rayne
“My place,” I hurry to answer, pulling Declan by his shirt and pressing my lips against his again for good measure. “I need to get some baking done today, somewhere between the multiple rounds of not-office sex.”
Declan snorts with an amused glare. “No pressure.”
“Oh, you have so much to make up for, Mr. Moretti, there is definitely pressure,” I clarify with a laugh of my own as I take my purse and work satchel. “This better be one epic fuck.”
I squeak when Declan spins me into his chest. His lips meet mine with a kiss to end all kisses, and when we come up for air, I can barely stand, my bags thrown to the ground.
“You let me know if it fell under the epic category once I’m done with you, okay?”
I can only nod, all my words, along with my heart, stolen away by that kiss.
The entire ride home Declan has his hand on my knee, fingers drawing lazy circles over the inside of it, me resisting the urge to slide down and have his palm inch up my skirt.
“I’m going to change and we’ll start,” I inform Declan once we’re inside.
“Did I ruin your panties again?” He asks with a cheeky grin.
“Yes. Demolished. Going to have to chuck them.”
“I wouldn’t bother with a new pair, shame to throw away two in one night.”
“Fair point,” I agree, barely stopping myself from climbing him where he so casually stands, looking every bit yummy in his jeans and dark green cotton shirt. “I’ll be back in a jiff, make yourself comfortable.”
When I get back, Declan is waiting in the kitchen, barefoot with a glass of water in his hand as he checks out his surroundings.
“I like your kitchen,” he says when I walk in. “And your outfit.”
“The T and cotton shorts seemed most practical for pre-sex baking,” I explain. “Come on, I need to make my dough for the Sufganiyot. You can help.”
“I feel honored.” He places a hand over his heart. “What’s a Suf... What’s that?”
“Soof-ga-ni-yot,” I reply, emphasizing each syllable slowly. “Hanukkah jelly donuts, traditionally with a strawberry jam filling, but I decided to give it a Christmas twist with eggnog custard spiced up with rum.”
“Oh, my God.” Declan’s eyes grow bigger at my every word. “I may have to marry you, Elle.”
“Or you could grab the yellow plastic bowl from that drawer, for starters.” I laugh, and he salutes, pulling out the bowl while I arrange all the ingredients on the counter.
“What now?” he inquires, taking stock of the ingredients with a curious glare.
“Take this,” I instruct as I hand him a small flowery bowl, “and combine the yeast, that stuff over there, with one tablespoon from the flour and one tablespoon of sugar.”
Declan takes on a serious demeanor, the kind I’m accustomed to seeing on his face when he’s listening to one of our team explaining their work, and it’s kind of cute that he takes my baking just as seriously.
“Perfect. Now add the water and mix well.” I watch him follow my instructions with satisfaction. “Now cover it. We’ll circle back to the mixture when it becomes foamy.”
“Easy!” Declan grins in triumph.
I can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is and steal a kiss before melting the margarine in the microwave.
“Could you please mix the remaining flour and sugar with the salt and the egg yolks?”
“On it.”
We work for a few minutes in silence, Dec watching as I expertly mix the melted margarine into the batter, which is slowly starting to look like dough, then add the foamy yeast mixture to the big bowl.
“Now, slowly pour that cup of water while I stir.”
“Can I stir?” Declan requests with an eager gleam in his eyes.
“Sure.” I hand him the wooden spoon and retrieve the measured water I set out. Declan stands behind me, arms on either side as one hand steadies the bowl, and the other holds the spoon in a stirring position. The closeness of his body and his breath ruffling my hair have heat rushing straight to my core, and suddenly I’m antsy to get this part of the night over with.
“Like this?” Declan asks in a low voice as his arm starts moving. I nod, then slowly pour the water in a thin drizzle.
“Faster,” I instruct with short breaths. Being captured between Declan’s hard chest and the counter is more a turn-on than I anticipated. “Faster.”
Declan growls, his head dipping to my neck, and I manage to grab the bowl before it tips over when he lets go of it in favor of kneading my boob through my shirt, though he’s somehow still managing to stir.
The last of the water is tipped into the mix, and I count to ten. That should be okay, I decide, moaning when Declan finally abandons the spoon, freeing his hand to smooth over the inside of my thigh and between my legs, up the leg hole of my shorts, smile broad against my neck when he finds my bare sex.
“What now, Elle?” he rumbles against my sensitive skin, causing me to shudder, running a thick finger over me in teasing circles.
“Proofing oven, then bed.”
“I’m not sure we’ll make it to the bed,” his deep sultry voice rasps in my ear, and I have never been gladder that I’m not wearing any panties.
9
Declan
Elle practically dumps the bowl in the drawer under the oven, and the second I hear the click signaling it’s securely closed my patience snaps.
Spinning her to me, my mouth crushes over hers with hunger, and Elle is right there with me, fingers tangled in my hair and tugging my head back to gain better access while attempting to pull me toward the bedroom.
I run my tongue over her full bottom lip before sliding it into her mouth, exploring and tasting her small moans. Elle tugs impatiently at my shirt, so I push away just the slightest, pull it over my head, and do the same with her own shirt and shorts.
Part of me wants to pause and just look at her, drink in every inch of her perfection with my eyes, but at the same time, another part is screaming that I’ve waited too long. All I want right now is to get inside of her.
Elle must have the same need because she’s on me again before our clothes hit the floor, undoing my jeans with urgency.
Some small part of my brain is still focused enough to grab my wallet from my back pocket and pull out a condom before Elle gets rid of my jeans and briefs.
Realizing we’re never making it to bed, I steer to the corner couch, rolling on the condom as Elle’s fingers grasp desperately at my hair and shoulders, teeth colliding and tongues gliding until my shins hit the smooth fabric. I sit back, pulling Elle to straddle me.
My palms smooth over her inner thighs, spreading them wider and caressing her soft flesh until they reach the apex. I run a finger through her wet folds, and finding her clit, I tease it with slow circles.
“Oh, God.” Elle’s eyes flutter shut, and one hand tangles into my hair, her head tilts back, and her lower lip is caught between her teeth as she lets out breathy little moans.
Elle’s eyes fly open when I plunge two fingers deep inside of her, pushing them deeper still with every thrust until she throws her head back with a guttural cry of pleasure. Adding the pressure of my thumb on her clit, I work her into ecstasy, and those sounds she’s making—between a choked scream and a breathy moan—as her fingernails bite into my shoulders are quickly driving me to the edge of madness.
“I need to be inside of you, now,” I grit out after Elle’s body stops shaking from the after effect of her orgasm, my hand wrapping around her ponytail to guide her mouth to mine.
Elle’s fingers wrap around my hard shaft, breaking our heated kiss to lock her gaze with mine before lowering herself over me inch by inch, and I let her take me at her own pace until I’m buried deep inside her.
One arm circles her waist, fingers of the other link with hers, and Elle’s eyes shine with a hazy smile as she presses her body closer to mine.
I start moving my hips, pulling out as far as I can and t
hrusting back up slowly, repeating the motion until Elle’s breaths are whimpers of need.
Flipping us onto the couch, I lay Elle on her back and sit on my heels, placing her ankle on my shoulder and finally taking the time to admire the sheer perfection of her.
“God, you’re a sight.” I gaze at her bare body with awe, spotting a large tattoo of a lotus with oriental ornaments on her left thigh. Her legs, long and toned, curve into luscious hips and a slim waist that always looks so good in those pencil skirts pinched right at the narrowest part. And her breasts are pure perfection. I’m a boob guy, I admit, and Elle’s are that perfect combination of size and perkiness, with candy pink nipples begging for attention.
“You ready, Elle?” I ask, and she nods, lifting on her elbows to watch where our bodies connect. “Fuck, you’re too good to be real.”
I plant a kiss on her ankle before pulling almost all the way back and pushing forward, plunging deep into her, encouraged by her keen of pleasure to repeat the motion. Elle’s eyes roll back with pleasure as I pick up my pace, driving deeper into her tight body with every thrust, feeling the pressure at the base of my spine starting to build.
Kissing down Elle’s leg, I keep my pace as I bend down and catch a nipple between my lips, rolling my tongue over the hard nub.
“Oh, God, Dec, yes,” Elle gasps, the flutter of her inner walls pulling me even deeper into her, signaling she’s on edge.
“Fuck, Elle,” I growl, picking up my pace as I chase my own release.
Elle draws in a sharp breath that seems to get stuck on the exhale as I relentlessly fuck her into oblivion.
A tremble courses through her body as she unravels with a guttural cry, squeezing me with such intensity I can’t hold back my own climax, a roar of pure animalistic lust tearing from my chest as I come so hard I practically see stars.
“Oh, Dec,” she whimpers with a soft voice as another shudder causes goosebumps to burst over her smooth skin.
We stay cuddled on the couch, stroking each other’s bodies as we come down from our high, and catch our breaths.
“Better than epic,” Elle declares with a smile, and I chuckle, kissing the tip of her nose.
“Agreed.”
“When will you be ready for round two?” she asks, and I burst into loud laughter.
“Never took you for the impatient type, Eloise.”
“That just goes to show how little you know about me,” she sasses with a grin and a playful slap to my ass, squealing when I flip her under me.
“I want to know everything about you,” I say with grave seriousness as I look down into her eyes. “I meant what I said earlier tonight, Elle, about how I feel for you.”
“I feel the same way, Dec.” She looks away and bites her lower lip before turning her face back to mine. “I was going to ask you out the day they announced the Bleeker project.”
“I’m glad you never did,” I admit with a smile. “Had you just approached me, I would have said no. But being so close to you all the time, getting to know you, it took down my insistent resistance.”
“We have to figure out how this works.” Elle sighs. “We still have to work together.”
“We will, after the holidays,” I promise. “In the meantime, I want to enjoy you.”
“I like the sound of that.” She nuzzles my chest. “We have another hour or so to burn before we need to get back to the kitchen.”
“Do you still have those antlers from the club?”
Her smile has that teasing edge to it. “I even kept the nose.”
She squeals as I chase her to the bedroom, and I know that, if need be, I’d rather quit than give her up.
10
Eloise
“These are divine,” Patty exclaims, already on her third donut. “You’ve outdone yourself, Elle.”
“Thank you,” I reply, beaming at her. “Those are filled with alcohol, though, so you may want to pace yourself.”
“Sure, just one more.” Patty grabs another donut for the road, and we make our way to the gingerbread house, the sight of the Santa figure huddled with a gingerbread elf stirring me into laughter.
“What’s so funny, Miss Bloom?” Declan’s deep voice rumbles from behind me with a hint of amusement.
“Just Santa and his naughty little elf.” I turn to him with a cheeky grin, and Dec bursts into loud laughter.
“I don’t get it,” Patty chimes in with a bewildered gaze jumping between the two of us.
“Just an old joke,” Declan provides, leaning over to whisper in my ear. “And Santa prefers his naughty little reindeer.”
The promise in his voice makes my toes curl, and I bite my bottom lip to stop a moan from escaping. “You don’t play fair.”
“I can’t wait to get out of here and start our week-long hiatus.” Dec sneaks a pat to my ass.
“I’m still in awe that Zane gives us this much leave for the holidays.” I return his gesture by looking at him through my lashes in the way he told me drives him crazy.
“Now who isn’t playing fair,” he mutters with a smile. “And Zane uses this week to do all around upgrades and maintenance to the systems.”
“Everybody!” Grace’s unsteady voice carries over the lively chatting of the crowd. “Your attention, please.”
The entire room hushes and turns to face her, she’s had her fair share of my donuts, and her nose is as rosy red as her cheeks.
“We have a special surprise guest,” she announces, ushering none other than Carmine Capello to the front of the room. There’s an excited murmur through the crowd, while Dec and I just exchange baffled glances, then a familiar head of curly dark hair catches my eye.
“Is that Connor?” I ask Dec, not sure I’m seeing right.
“Yeah, I think it is,” he affirms my suspicions.
“What the heck is going on?”
“I’d like to know that myself.” Dec sounds irritated, whereas I’m merely curious.
“Thank you, Grace. Love the shoes.” Carmine turns to the crowd. “As you all know, I’ve been working rather closely with Declan and Eloise on the Bleeker project, and seeing how the team led by them made my vision of luxury living a reality, well, it sparked an old dream of mine back to life.”
Carmine’s eyes seek the crowd, which separates all the way to us, Connor peeking around the front with a broad smile and a wave.
“It’s been my lifelong ambition to create a place that would cultivate art in all its forms.” Carmine looks at us with jovial excitement. “And seeing how passionate you two are about crafting my dreams into reality, I was inspired to buy an old building in Marina del Ray. With the help of the ever-talented Connor, here, I found the perfect location, and I want a Z Luxury Living team, led by the two of you, to turn it into a thriving artist community.”
“Oh, that’s a glorious idea,” Grace exclaims, and I hear Patty snort behind me. Not that Dec and I are doing any better. I have to cover my mouth to stop the laughter, and Dec’s shoulders are shaking, although he’s completely silent.
In fact, the entire room is in a suppressed fit, and soon enough, we all give up the pretense and are roaring with laughter.
“Was it something I said?” Carmine asks when he approaches us.
“No, you’re good,” Dec assures him with a pat to the back. “I dare say you’re glorious.”
Carmine’s eyes grow wide with a silent oh, then he chuckles.
“I love that dream of yours, Carmine.” I give him a tight hug. “Thank you for trusting us with it.”
“You know what this means, don’t you, boo?” Con hugs me from behind. “Declan isn’t your boss anymore.”
“If anything, you’re his.” Carmine snickers, then turns to Connor. “Let’s get some of those donuts you can’t stop raving about before we meet your boyfriend.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Connor smiles at me. “You two joining us for James’ rooftop party?”
“We’ll see how the evening goes.” Dec shrugs, and
I grin when he looks back at me. “They’re right, you know, I’m not your boss anymore.”
“Hmm,” I hum, taking a step closer to him. “And what would not being under you entail, exactly?”
“Oh, you’re going to be plenty under me, Elle.” Declan matches my stride and my grin. “But right now, we seem to be under a mistletoe.”
“How convenient.” I take another stride, closing the gap between us, giggling when Dec dips me back in a swift motion, my arms circle his neck, and our lips meet to the whistles and cheers of the entire Z Luxury Living team.
“I’m so happy,” Patty weeps next to us while taking a bite from yet another donut.
“Okay, I’m officially cutting you off.” I take the donut from her hand and chuck it into the bin. “Never making those again.”
“Want to go to your place and experiment with new fillings?” Dec wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, already steering me toward the exit.
“Now who’s being impatient?”
“I bet you’d taste like heaven smothered in that red-current jam we made yesterday.” He pulls me close when we enter the elevator, pressing my back against the mirror, and his mouth covers mine, his tongue sweeping through it.
When our lips separate, he looks down at me with warmth and adoration.
“Happy Hanukkah, Eloise.”
“Merry Christmas, Declan.”
* * *
{THE END}
A note from Kyra
Thank you for reading Eloise & Declan’s story, a short Dare to Desire novella!
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