He’s big, even beneath the fabric.
Any words that I anticipated saying have been lost to rawer senses. Like the way he sheds his pants slowly, without ever peeling his eyes from mine. Desire, passion, lust, they all spin inside me like a whirlpool with no bottom, no end, no resolution to these feelings.
He slips off his navy boxer-briefs, his cock in full view and closer than ever before. Connor nudges my legs open with his knees, locking them to a position for his use. He grabs my ass, squeezing and lifting me into his hands, stretching my arms that stay fastened to the headboard.
I’m horny and so confused.
Because he never slows, never hesitates. Not to put on a condom. The nerves that I kicked aside abruptly crash into me like a hundred foot wave.
Connor freezes, going still, concern shadowing his powerful gaze.
I must wear confusion on my face, a rarity for me.
“Speak,” he orders.
My throat has gone dry. I’m doing this all wrong again, I think. He continues to hold my bottom in his hands, my legs wrapped around his waist, but he sets me on the bed, no longer prepared to enter me.
Fuck.
“Dammit, Rose,” Connor glares. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“You’re going to wear a condom, right?” I phrase it like a question, which makes me cringe. Normally I’d just command him to wrap his dick.
Connor’s shoulders slacken, and he lets out a breath of relief. I realize I scared him, an emotion he rarely feels. I suppose we’re bringing out new sentiments in each other.
I tap his thigh with my ankle. “I have one in my bag.”
A smile slowly overtakes his face. “Do you? Were you expecting to get laid on this trip?”
“I’m always prepared,” I remind him, trying to hide my own smile.
He picks up my foot and places a light kiss on the bottom of my heel. “No condoms,” he suddenly says.
“What?” I snap.
“I don’t want anything between us,” he tells me. He scoots forward, his hardness so very near, and his hands slide from my knees to my thighs. “I want to fill you, Rose, even after I pull out and hold you in my arms.” He wants to come inside you, Rose. I could stare at the ceiling and say, Thank you, Lord, but Connor would be so pissed. The thought almost urges me to do it, but the sensible part of me returns.
Because if he doesn’t use a condom that means… “We can’t…” I shake my head. “We can’t be hypocrites. Loren and Lil—”
“Are irresponsible,” Connor finishes for me. “Lily forgets to bathe and eat, and we both know she regularly forgets to take birth control, which is why we remind Loren to use condoms. And you, Rose, are the most responsible woman I know.”
His words have a way of placating worries, even mine.
I nod. This is it.
I can’t help but stare at his blue eyes that swim with a familiar ambition and passion. This is Connor, I remind myself. For ten years, I’ve known him. And not very many people ever truly do.
He’s roped to my gaze, inhaling a deep breath. He brushes a piece of damp, sweaty hair from my cheek. “I’ve wanted so many things in life,” he says softly, “but you’re the one that has meant the most to me.”
Translation: I love you.
His thumb skims my bottom lip. Oh, that thumb…
And then he plunges in, so hard and fast that I cry out. The pain comes all at once, but it’s slowly usurped by more pleasant sensations. He thrusts, pulsing each one in deep succession, the rhythm blinding my vision. I tilt my head back, my eyelids fluttering, trying to stay sane. The fullness drives me to a new place, but it’s the way his hips pound into me, his force as I stay bound to the headboard, that truly sends me over.
He grips my thighs for support as he pushes deeper. He lifts one of my legs higher to fit more of him inside me. I gasp and struggle against the belt restraints. Connor…
My whole world spins.
I’m drenched in sweat while a hot layer gathers across his skin. I’m also soaked between my legs, and if I concentrate on just how deep he stays, just how far he goes, how it seems like his cock rides into my belly, my back begins to arch. My rotating world lights on fire.
He groans as he hooks my leg underneath his arm, holding it up, rampaging my body like it belongs to him for this purpose.
God yes…
Why the hell did I wait so long?
The headboard rap rap raps against the wall, and Connor breathes in low ragged breaths through his nose, the determination in his eyes fucking me just as much as his cock. I want him to choke me. To steal my oxygen for a second.
And just like that, he grabs my leather collar while thrusting, not missing a beat. And he uses the collar to lift my neck up to his face, our lips meeting. He kisses me hungrily, passionately, eagerly—and he chokes me of air this way, my lips swell underneath his, numb to the pressure, his minty taste swirling in my mouth with his tongue.
As he thrusts again, he hits a spot that breaks my lips from his and mangles my voice. It was a noise from a place five-thousand-feet high, in a cloud.
He watches my excitement, and his arousal continues to grow, his muscles tightening, never letting up. He increases his speed. Faster.
Holy…
No breaks. Not even as more sweat beads our skin. We create heat like we’re gods.
I don’t know how he deepens his movement, but he does. My noises escalate until I can’t contain anything anymore. And he pulls at the collar again, kissing my parted lips once and twice before setting my head back on the pillow. Then he reaches up to my hand on a rung of the headboard. He interlaces his fingers with mine, holding me as he drives me to my climax.
My sex clenches around him, three or four times, my entire body writhing. My toes curling, my moans morphing into deep breaths of dizzy pleasure.
“Let it out,” he whispers in my ear as he continues his mind-numbing pace.
Tears prick my eyes as I fall down from the high, but he’s not done. I realize he hasn’t come yet. He continues to rock against me, building me back up.
I never want this feeling to leave.
As if he senses this, he makes the moment, somehow, pass like an eternity.
And then we both reach the peak in unison. When he comes, he thrusts forward, hard, and then he rocks his hips against me, milking his climax until we’re both lightheaded and breathing heavy.
As everything slows, I become acutely aware of my surroundings and thoughts again. Of what happened. I was the virgin in this scenario. He’s done this before, and I want to know if I was awful. Or if he’s had someone better. I’m competitive by nature. In bed—I want to be the best he’s ever had. It might be too much to ask.
His chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath. He hovers above me as if preparing to do it all over again.
I kind of hope so.
And then he begins to laugh, his smile enveloping his face—not in humor but in happiness.
“What?” I ask softly.
He stares at me like I’m the only one he wants here. Underneath him. “You and me,” he says and licks his lips. “We fuck like winners.”
I grin. He didn’t say I fuck like a winner. It was we. Us. Together.
“You have ten seconds,” he tells me, “before I take you again. You ready?”