the wet flesh. “So hot and tight,” he murmurs a second before his hot mouth engulfs the other peak. Each tug he makes on my breasts goes straight to my sex, my body connected and overly sensitive. He withdraws his fingers and I groan, as the building orgasm slips away. I’m putty in his hands, and he knows it.
I gasp as Connor lifts my higher at the same time he slides down in his seat, until his mouth is aligned with my sex. Bracing my hands on the back of the couch, I shiver when he blows against my wet female flesh.
“So delicate,” Connor nuzzles my mound. His hands are full of my backside so I can’t squirm away. As if I would.
I’m panting by the time his tongue traces the seam of my labia, shaking with need. The light touch makes me melt, it’s so different then the ravenous way he’s pleasured me before, as though I were the last meal. This touch is more reverent, almost as though he’s in awe of my body and the raw emotion is just as heady.
Which is better, to be craved or cherished? With Connor Edge, I am both.
“More,” I beg as he dabbles lightly over my clit. The sweet teasing torment shoves me higher, so damn close yet way too far. His hands hold me still so I can’t buck or writhe against him the way I want to and if I let go of the couch, I’ll lose my balance. Although from the way Connor is exploring my folds, I have no doubt he’d follow me to the floor. Perhaps even through the floor.
He used more than just his lips and tongue. His jaw rubbed against my opening as he teased my clit. His cheek periodically brushed against the inside of my thigh as he kissed and touched every part of me.
My eyes teared up, from emotional overload or unspent lust, I’m not sure. Connor rips away the illusion that I have any control of my body, leaving me a quivering mess of shameless need. One finger, still slick from time in my sex presses against my back passage. When he seals his mouth over my clit, I’m done for. Crying his name, I fall apart, my body yielding to his completely. That finger slides past the outer ring of muscle easily, exploring virgin depths and sending me even higher, pushing past limits I didn’t even realize were there.
“Good girl,” He praises me, fingering my ass gently while nuzzling my thigh. “Give yourself to me.”
“Yes,” I repeat the word over and over as he eases me down onto the couch, until my face is pressed against the cushions and my backside is in the air. The sound of a sipper sliding down along with the sweat evaporating off my skin makes me shiver. A wrapper rustles and the couch dips as Connor climbs over me.
His hands slide down my back in a sensual caress and I feel the tip of his cock as it prods against my wet core. The position leaves me so open to him. So vulnerable, with all of my sensitive bits exposed. If not for my recent orgasm, I doubt I could accept it.
Gripping his shaft, he works it against my blood engorged tissues, wetting himself in my lube and teasing me until I squirm against him. His voice is rough and ragged. “Tell me what you want, Baily.”
“I want you inside of me,” I whisper and he groans as he sinks deeply inside of me in one, strong, smooth glide.
I gasp, because the angle hits every hotspot inside of me. He retreats just as slowly before lunging down again, burying that long shaft in my melting core. His body blankets over the top of mine and he cloaks me with his heat. Several more of his tortuously slow strokes, stretch me, fill me, makes me yearn for more. Reaching between my thighs, I work my clit with the heel of my palm and rest my fingers against the base of his cock. Something about touching there, where we are joined, and feeling him move in and out of my body strikes me as deliciously intimate.
“Mine,” Connor growls. Here in the throes of passion with all the masks ripped away, I recognize him, that part of me knows the bits of him which transcend titles or faces, because it’s older, stronger,
I gasp as Connor lifts my higher at the same time he slides down in his seat, until his mouth is aligned with my sex. Bracing my hands on the back of the couch, I shiver when he blows against my wet female flesh.
“So delicate,” Connor nuzzles my mound. His hands are full of my backside so I can’t squirm away. As if I would.
I’m panting by the time his tongue traces the seam of my labia, shaking with need. The light touch makes me melt, it’s so different then the ravenous way he’s pleasured me before, as though I were the last meal. This touch is more reverent, almost as though he’s in awe of my body and the raw emotion is just as heady.
Which is better, to be craved or cherished? With Connor Edge, I am both.
“More,” I beg as he dabbles lightly over my clit. The sweet teasing torment shoves me higher, so damn close yet way too far. His hands hold me still so I can’t buck or writhe against him the way I want to and if I let go of the couch, I’ll lose my balance. Although from the way Connor is exploring my folds, I have no doubt he’d follow me to the floor. Perhaps even through the floor.
He used more than just his lips and tongue. His jaw rubbed against my opening as he teased my clit. His cheek periodically brushed against the inside of my thigh as he kissed and touched every part of me.
My eyes teared up, from emotional overload or unspent lust, I’m not sure. Connor rips away the illusion that I have any control of my body, leaving me a quivering mess of shameless need. One finger, still slick from time in my sex presses against my back passage. When he seals his mouth over my clit, I’m done for. Crying his name, I fall apart, my body yielding to his completely. That finger slides past the outer ring of muscle easily, exploring virgin depths and sending me even higher, pushing past limits I didn’t even realize were there.
“Good girl,” He praises me, fingering my ass gently while nuzzling my thigh. “Give yourself to me.”
“Yes,” I repeat the word over and over as he eases me down onto the couch, until my face is pressed against the cushions and my backside is in the air. The sound of a sipper sliding down along with the sweat evaporating off my skin makes me shiver. A wrapper rustles and the couch dips as Connor climbs over me.
His hands slide down my back in a sensual caress and I feel the tip of his cock as it prods against my wet core. The position leaves me so open to him. So vulnerable, with all of my sensitive bits exposed. If not for my recent orgasm, I doubt I could accept it.
Gripping his shaft, he works it against my blood engorged tissues, wetting himself in my lube and teasing me until I squirm against him. His voice is rough and ragged. “Tell me what you want, Baily.”
“I want you inside of me,” I whisper and he groans as he sinks deeply inside of me in one, strong, smooth glide.
I gasp, because the angle hits every hotspot inside of me. He retreats just as slowly before lunging down again, burying that long shaft in my melting core. His body blankets over the top of mine and he cloaks me with his heat. Several more of his tortuously slow strokes, stretch me, fill me, makes me yearn for more. Reaching between my thighs, I work my clit with the heel of my palm and rest my fingers against the base of his cock. Something about touching there, where we are joined, and feeling him move in and out of my body strikes me as deliciously intimate.
“Mine,” Connor growls. Here in the throes of passion with all the masks ripped away, I recognize him, that part of me knows the bits of him which transcend titles or faces, because it’s older, stronger,
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