couch, his hand sliding up my inner thigh while his lips seek out the pulse point in my neck. He’s careful not to press all his weight into me, treating me almost as though I’m fragile. Precious and irreplaceable.
Wrapping my hands around his back, I pull him closer, needing his weight pinning me. He resists at first until I whisper, “I need to feel you.” Then he’s grinding that thick shaft into the notch between my legs, devouring my mouth, his hands hot against my skin.
He retreats and grips my hair with one hand, tipping my head back so our eyes lock. “Have I come inside you yet?” His fingers cover my mound, massaging my swollen sex through the fabric of my bathing suit.
“No,” I tilt my pelvis, needing his touch to delve deeper. “I’m not on birth control.”
Satisfaction glints in his eyes. “Good. When you are, I want you to wait for me.”
“Wait for you?” Lust fogs my brain so I’m not entirely sure what he means.
He nods, and a hank of dark hair falls down, giving him a roguish air. “Yes. I want to remember what it feels like when I come inside you for the first time. The look on your face as I take you. The way your pussy milks my cock until I spend. The sounds you make when you feel the hot gush of my seed against your womb. I want those memories, complete with the knowledge that it’s the first time. Save it for me.”
“Oh, Connor,” I push the stray lock of hair out of his eyes, my heart breaking for him, for the fact he has to ask this of me. “What made you this way?”
A shadow falls across his face. “We aren’t going to discuss it now.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
I nod once, accepting his words. Whatever darkness holds part of him in thrall, he doesn’t want to talk about it. After the way he responded to my need for privacy, it doesn’t feel right to push him. Instead, I brush my lips over his in a sweet caress, trying to convey the nonverbal message; I’ll take whatever you want to give me.
The stiffness leeches out of his shoulders and he tears his lips from mine and groans when I grip his cock, working the rigid flesh through the fabric of his shorts. A smile steals over my face when I feel how hard he is already. “And here I thought you might not want me.”
His fingers clamps down on my wrist, holds my hand still. “Why would you think that?”
Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?
Because you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone? Snarkarella offers.
“It’s not important.” I try to wrestle my hand free and draw him into another of those soul shattering kisses, but he’s having none of it.
Pinning both my wrists over my head, he shifts his weight so he’s lying alongside of me on the massive couch. “No, I want to know what you mean by that. Have I ever given you a reason to think that I don’t desire you?”
“Not the other you,” I hastily assure him.
His eyes narrow. “But me, the way I am now?”
I bite my lower lip and he sucks in a sharp breath. My sex twinges as I remember the night before. “You’re a little…inconsistent. Like right now.”
He is genuinely baffled. “I don’t understand.”
I gesture down our bodies. “Well, we’re talking .” I stress the word, hoping he’ll intuit why I find that so unsettling.
Connor blinks and strong emotion flickers across his features, something almost akin to pain. “You prefer him.”
“No,” I hastily say, but guilt gnaws at me. Hadn’t I been thinking exactly that a few hours ago?
He retreats to the other side of the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.” There’s a layer of frost coating his words. My lover is gone and Mr. Edge sits in his place.
Struggling to right my clothing, I reach for him. “Connor—”
“And here I was worried about him hurting you, when all the while you’d rather be with him. Perhaps if I concentrate I can resurrect him for you? I’ve never been able
Wrapping my hands around his back, I pull him closer, needing his weight pinning me. He resists at first until I whisper, “I need to feel you.” Then he’s grinding that thick shaft into the notch between my legs, devouring my mouth, his hands hot against my skin.
He retreats and grips my hair with one hand, tipping my head back so our eyes lock. “Have I come inside you yet?” His fingers cover my mound, massaging my swollen sex through the fabric of my bathing suit.
“No,” I tilt my pelvis, needing his touch to delve deeper. “I’m not on birth control.”
Satisfaction glints in his eyes. “Good. When you are, I want you to wait for me.”
“Wait for you?” Lust fogs my brain so I’m not entirely sure what he means.
He nods, and a hank of dark hair falls down, giving him a roguish air. “Yes. I want to remember what it feels like when I come inside you for the first time. The look on your face as I take you. The way your pussy milks my cock until I spend. The sounds you make when you feel the hot gush of my seed against your womb. I want those memories, complete with the knowledge that it’s the first time. Save it for me.”
“Oh, Connor,” I push the stray lock of hair out of his eyes, my heart breaking for him, for the fact he has to ask this of me. “What made you this way?”
A shadow falls across his face. “We aren’t going to discuss it now.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
I nod once, accepting his words. Whatever darkness holds part of him in thrall, he doesn’t want to talk about it. After the way he responded to my need for privacy, it doesn’t feel right to push him. Instead, I brush my lips over his in a sweet caress, trying to convey the nonverbal message; I’ll take whatever you want to give me.
The stiffness leeches out of his shoulders and he tears his lips from mine and groans when I grip his cock, working the rigid flesh through the fabric of his shorts. A smile steals over my face when I feel how hard he is already. “And here I thought you might not want me.”
His fingers clamps down on my wrist, holds my hand still. “Why would you think that?”
Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?
Because you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone? Snarkarella offers.
“It’s not important.” I try to wrestle my hand free and draw him into another of those soul shattering kisses, but he’s having none of it.
Pinning both my wrists over my head, he shifts his weight so he’s lying alongside of me on the massive couch. “No, I want to know what you mean by that. Have I ever given you a reason to think that I don’t desire you?”
“Not the other you,” I hastily assure him.
His eyes narrow. “But me, the way I am now?”
I bite my lower lip and he sucks in a sharp breath. My sex twinges as I remember the night before. “You’re a little…inconsistent. Like right now.”
He is genuinely baffled. “I don’t understand.”
I gesture down our bodies. “Well, we’re talking .” I stress the word, hoping he’ll intuit why I find that so unsettling.
Connor blinks and strong emotion flickers across his features, something almost akin to pain. “You prefer him.”
“No,” I hastily say, but guilt gnaws at me. Hadn’t I been thinking exactly that a few hours ago?
He retreats to the other side of the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.” There’s a layer of frost coating his words. My lover is gone and Mr. Edge sits in his place.
Struggling to right my clothing, I reach for him. “Connor—”
“And here I was worried about him hurting you, when all the while you’d rather be with him. Perhaps if I concentrate I can resurrect him for you? I’ve never been able
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