Then he dips his knees and lowers me to my feet, leaning back but keeping his hands splayed across my hips. We breathe deeply, staring in shock at each other for a long moment, waiting for one of us to say something.
But neither of us do.
When I remember it later, I抣l never quite be able to work out in my mind how it happened梬ho moved first. But I think we move together.
Because in the next second our mouths crash together, tongues clashing, and he抯 crushing me against him梒hest to chest, stomach to stomach, hips grinding heated and hard. Our hands tear at each other, touching and tugging at too many annoying clothes條ike we want to crawl beneath each other抯 skin.
It抯 wild and rough, crazed and desperate.
We kiss like the world will end if we stop.
And it抯 perfect. The most perfect second kiss that ever existed.
He grips my hips and yanks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and squeeze for all I抦 worth. And then I gasp, openmouthed, at the rock-hard erection wedged between my legs, covered only by the light, thin fabric of his shorts.
Connor抯 lips drag across my jaw and down my neck, sucking and scraping with his teeth. He groans against my skin when I rotate my hips, riding him through our clothes, the friction so sublime I could come on him just like this.
He swings us around, pushing my back up against the wall beside the foyer table. Something clatters to the ground梞y keys or the water bottle or maybe the whole damn table. I don抰 know and I don抰 care, because his mouth is on mine and it抯 glorious.
He kisses like he wants to consume me, devour me, pumping against me on the wall like he wants to merge us into one person. He holds onto me like he covets not just my body梑ut my heart and my soul too.
And I抎 give them over to him happily. Because I want him the same way.
揤iolet, wait.?His voice scrapes up his throat and I can barely hear him over the rushing in my ears. 揥ait, wait, wait. Jesus, look at me.?
My lips feel bruised and swollen as his words register and I open my eyes to his searching, hungry gaze.
Connor sucks in a breath, panting more than he has on any of our runs.
揂re we really doing this??he asks. 揑s this what you want??
I have no thoughts in my head. There抯 no plan, no doubts梟o after.
There抯 only Connor and me and the need that抯 thick and scorching between us. Fusing us together like molten metal and begging for more.
He runs his thumb down along my hairline to my jaw. His touch so tender. And such a shocking contrast to the heavy, hard, pushing cock that抯 pressed between my legs.
揧ou need to tell me, Violet. I want you to be sure.?
There are moments in life that require you to tread carefully, bide your time, be prudent. And then there are times when you just say fuck it梐nd jump off the cliff. And whatever is waiting for you down below梬arm waters or jagged rocks? It doesn抰 matter anymore.
Because the rush of the fall will make it all worth it.
揑抳e wanted this for so long, Connor. Please don抰 make me wait any longer.?
It抯 like he抯 a barrel of gasoline and I just lit him on fire.
My cute sweatshirt? Gone.
My new teal sports bra? Ripped over my head, off my arms, and thrown on the floor梡robably too stretched out to ever wear again.
And I love it. I love his harsh movements, like he can抰 get to me fast enough. I love how he stares at my bare breasts for two solid beats and then groans crudely.
I love how he pins me to the wall with his hips, palms my breasts with both hands and lurches down to lick and lave like a starving man梥ucking the hardened points of my nipples into his mouth and flicking with his hot tongue until I see stars.
And then I抦 whimpering, tugging at his hair and rubbing mindlessly up and down against his cock梑ecause it抯 not enough.
I need him closer梚nside梙ard and full and pounding.
I don抰 have to tell him . . . Connor already knows.
He kisses me deeply, cups my ass in his hands, and carries me down the hall, kicking open the door to my bedroom on his first guess and laying me on the bed.
In my mind, I hop up and go full she-hulk on his clothes, shredding them off his body.
In reality, I lean back on my elbows and watch as he tugs his shirt over his head, kicks off his shoes and socks, and slides his shorts and boxer briefs off to the floor.
And my eyes have seen the glory . . .
Connor抯 body is all man梥trong and rugged and fit. And every inch of him beautiful.
A smattering of dark hair dusts his chest and lower on his stomach. His torso and thighs swell with taut muscle and tanned skin. His erection protrudes proudly梩hick and long梩he broad head smooth and crimson. He抯 bigger than I imagined, even bigger than he felt條arge enough that when Connor takes his wallet out of his shorts and slips out his own condom, I抦 relieved . . . because the standard-size box in my nightstand drawer wouldn抰 have fit.
He puts one knee on the bed and leans over me. I run my hands all over him梕verywhere I can reach條oving the hard, silken feel of him. His watches me with sensuous, heavy lids as I wrap my hand around his shaft and slowly stroke him, reaching between his legs to cup the soft, weighted sack梞assaging and giving a gentle tug that makes his eyes drag closed.
Then I go in for a taste條icking and kissing along his ribs, making his breath catch. I intend to go lower, but he grabs me by the nape of the neck, dragging me up to kiss me, his tongue plundering.
I抦 not a virgin. I抳e had hookups, boyfriends, even what you could say were 搇overs,?though I抦 not that fancy. Some of the guys I抳e been with were good in bed.
But with each of them there was a tangible undercurrent of selfishness in all the thrusting and flipping around and hair tugging. It抯 not that I didn抰 enjoy those things梑ut they never felt like they were for me.
About me.
It was always all about them. What they wanted to do, feel, try梙ow and where and when they wanted to come.
With Connor梕very move he makes, every whisper and touch梖eels like it抯 all for me. To worship me, please me, make me gasp, make me quiver. Holy god, it turns me on.
And he knows things.
When he peels my shorts and panties off and slips his hand between my legs, his movements are bold and sure. But when he pets me there, sliding the pads of his fingers back and forth on my clit, his touch is delicate and sensual, applying just the right pressure.
He knows how to kiss me, when to hold my head still and spear his tongue roughly into my mouth梞aking me take it梐nd when to pull back to a teasing stroke and make me chase him for more.
And what he doesn抰 know梙e asks梐nd that抯 hot too.
The rasping, hushed whispers in my ear. Here? You like that? More?
It makes me so wet梙eated, slippery, moisture clings to the apex of my thighs.
But there抯 no embarrassment or shame. He likes how wet I am. I know because he tells me.
You抮e so slick for me, Violet. Fuck, you抮e making me so hard.
He spreads my knees and nudges between my thighs, giving me a front row seat as he rolls a condom on with sure hands. He lines himself up and slides up and down against my soaked opening. And then thrusts inside梘oing in full and smooth and to the hilt.
My back arches and our moans echo through the room. I lie back and watch his face above me.
He runs a thumb across my parted, panting lips.
揂re you okay??
I clench my muscles, clamping down and squeezing all around him梡ulling a filthy groan from his throat. Because he feels so good. So big and hard and hot梕very inch of him stretches me, fills me in the most delicious way.