AFTER BREAKFAST, the guys organize another Hayes-wide conference call, checking on everyone. Shawn and Mr. Hayes are the only two at work. Theo’s still at the hospital, and Logan’s home, or rather in his garden, clearing debris.
We all go out, too. There’s not much damage around Nico’s neighborhood, but a few smaller trees toppled over, and almost every bin is someplace it shouldn’t be. We spend the afternoon clearing the mess with a few other neighbors.
Once again, I’m struck by how considerate the Hayes are. And how overprotective.
Nico growls whenever Mia lifts something he considers too heavy, and when she accidentally slices her hand on broken glass, he’s about ready to kill.
“He’s very—” I cut myself off, not sure how to finish that sentence as I watch him enter his driveway with Mia in his arms.
“Pick whatever word to finish that sentence, and it’ll fit,” Cody supplies with a chuckle, though the way he’s watching them disappear behind the bend shows he’s equally worried. “It’s mostly unwarranted, but he has every right to freak out this time. Mia’s got a clotting deficiency. The cut is deep, so if he can’t stop the bleeding within half an hour, she needs to go to the hospital, and it won’t be easy with the roads closed.”
“She’ll be fine,” Colt says, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his muddy hand. “If it doesn’t slow down in twenty minutes, I’ll stitch her up.”
“Shouldn’t we check on them?” I ask, hauling a garbage can and picking off trash from the hedges around Nico’s property. “Maybe they need help?”
“He won’t let us touch her until it’s necessary, so there’s no point in hovering,” Colt explains. “You’ll get used to their dynamic,” he adds, seeing my questioning eyebrow.
She cuddled into his shoulder yesterday when Nico went upstairs to grab a shower and she sat in Cody’s lap this morning, sharing a tub of ice cream with Conor, so the no touching makes little sense.
I stop asking questions, busying myself with helping clear up for another twenty minutes before we head inside, calling it a day. Mia’s not bleeding anymore, her hand wrapped in gauze.
“C’mon,” Conor says. “We could both use a shower.”
True. We’re filthy, covered in mud, and there’s something I really, really want that I’d rather be clean for.
***
Conor sits on the bed when I exit the en suite wearing a towel, my skin tingling from the hot shower and anticipation.
I’ve wanted his hands back on me since yesterday.
I thought he’d jump me the second I woke up last night, but he just tucked me in, even though I could feel his hard cock snuggling against my ass.
I was too sleepy for sex, but when I woke up this morning and Conor still didn’t start anything, I realized that despite his deep, passionate kisses, and my two world-changing orgasms, he hadn’t once groped me like my previous boyfriends.
I initiated both times, first by grinding into him in his car, then yesterday, too, and even when I pulled him back down at the beach. I think the reins are in my hands. I dictate the pace.
Unless I make the first move, clearly showing him I want him, he won’t take until we get carried away again.
I stop between his knees, weaving my fingers through his messy dark hair. I love how the thick curly tangles feel. How he always smells like peppermint, leather, and pomegranates. How he looks at me like there’s nothing and no one he wants more.
“You’re trembling,” he says, his fingertips gently stroking the back of my knee. “Are you cold?” He peers up in time to catch me shaking my head. “Scared?”
“A little.”
His other arm immediately loops around the back of my thighs, pulling me the last step forward. “Why?”
“I’m scared you’ll say no.”
His eyebrows draw together, then relax when I hook my finger in the towel and let it slide down my legs. It lands half-draped over his knee, half-piled on the floor.
“I will never say no to you.”
Lips first. Warm, soft, full lips kiss my abdomen.
Then his hands glide up my legs until he holds me in the most affectionate yet sensually arousing way imaginable. One arm under my butt, the other lined with my spine, fingers caressing my nape.
He noses a line up my tummy trailing open-mouthed kisses and leaving goosebumps behind. “Remember our first date?” he whispers, his breath heating my skin.
“Yes, why?”
“Remember what I told you when you stood there with your eyes closed?” He takes my thighs, moving me until I straddle his lap, my pussy pressing against the hard-on beneath his sweatpants. “What did I say?”
“That you already knew it wouldn’t be our last date.”
“No. Tell me exactly what I said.”
I rest my hands on his shoulders, sketching small circles with my thumbs. “You said I already know, Little Bee.”
“That’s right. I couldn’t tell you then. You’d run away screaming, but I wanted you to remember that moment, so when I finally could tell you, you’d know when I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I love you.” Sincerity and fathomless affection shine from his deep, brown eyes.
“We’ve not had sex yet. How can you love me?”
A small smile twitches his lips as he says, “I can’t love you until I impale you on my dick?”
“I didn’t say that. I just… I’ve had a few… partners. I know how this goes. Don’t tell me you love me just because you think that’s what I want to hear.”
“I’ve been in love with you since I first kissed you.” He floats his lips along my collarbone, big hands roaming up and down my back. “I’ll love feeling you come when I finally get inside you, but I don’t need that to know you fit me so fucking right. Otherwise, I would’ve loved every girl that hit my sheets since I was fifteen.”
“But you didn’t…”
He smiles, gripping the base of my neck and pulling me down, our kiss a breath away. “Not one. You’ve been with other guys. You know sex and feelings don’t always go together.”
“They rarely do,” I admit, thinking about the men in my past. It’s nothing like that with Conor. He’s more. We’re more than I could ever anticipate. “I can’t tell you I love you. Not yet.”
“Good. I don’t want you to say it back. I want you to say it when you feel it.”
I close the last inch parting our lips, teasing his tongue for a second before he seizes control, dominating the moment the way he always does. Tasting, sucking, nipping, devouring me like this is our first kiss.
“You sure you’re ready for me, Little Bee?”
“I’m sure,” I whisper in his mouth. “I need you more than you need me.”
“Not possible.” He gouges his fingers into the flesh of my butt, flipping me over, and crouches on his calves. Dark eyes rove my naked body inch by inch. “God… I want so much from you tonight I don’t know where to start.”
“Start by taking your t-shirt off.”
A tight smirk curves his lips, and he obliges, doing that sexy back-of-the-neck collar tug before his tee hits the floor.
“Now what?”
“Your jeans.”
He kicks them off, leaving nothing on but his boxers before he climbs back over me, skimming his hands up my thighs to cup my butt, squeezing lightly.
“I’m on the pill,” I blurt out as he drags me lower, pulling me under him, elbows flush with my arms.
“I wouldn’t care if you weren’t.”
My eyes pop wide. “What?”
“You heard me.” He nips the conversation as his lips come down on mine.
My entire body ripples.
Waves of pleasant heat hit time and time again, my breaths coming in shallow gasps the more he pushes against me. I’m consumed by him, by the newness of how caring, tender, and passionate he is compared to what I’m used to.
Sex has always been a quick deed. Not much foreplay. No overpowering feelings… it’s different with Conor. Every time his fingers touch my skin it jolts me like a mind-blowing, beautiful electric current.
I hook my fingers in the elastic of his boxers, tugging them down in one go and letting him kick them aside. His cock springs out, slapping my thigh. Without peeking, I know he’s the biggest I’ve ever had.
“You think I’ll get right into it, don’t you?” he humorously hums in my mouth. “Baby… I told you I haven’t even started yet. You’ve no idea what you’re getting into with me. I’ll make you scream. I’ll make you beg for more even while you’re coming undone for the fifth time.”
He nudges my chin with his nose, hot lips latching onto the delicate skin of my throat, sucking, pecking, biting between words. My mind focuses on him, every sense starved for his words and touch.
“I’ll bend you to my will.”
And I’ll bend like a rubber band.
I already do. I can’t get enough of him. The way he speaks. The way he looks at me like I’m the most important person in his life, even though we only met a few weeks ago. This thing between us moves at warp speed, and we’re both falling hard.
He might have beat me to I love you, but I’m not far behind. I’m just trying not to let the thought sink.
It’s too soon, isn’t it? I shouldn’t feel so attached so quick, but I can’t help it.
“What do you taste like?” he muses.
The question isn’t aimed at me. More like he’s voicing his thoughts, twirling his tongue over my pebbled nipple. He toys the other between his fingers, pinching, rolling, and driving me wild.
Satisfied with my hips arching off the mattress, pleading for more, he grips my thighs, pushes my legs back, then rests my ankles over his shoulders. The first tiny kiss to my mound forces the air from my lungs.
“You’re trouble,” I sigh. “Stop teasing.”
“Teasing is the best part, Little Bee.”
Spreading me with his thumbs, he licks me slowly, bottom to top, dragging the flat of his tongue up and over my clit. And then he sucks. Hard. The sting lights up my mind. Neurons fire up, and my thighs quiver in time with a surprised gasp.
“You taste like mine.”
I grasp his hair, forcing him back down, and feel him smile against my pussy.
“Greedy… needy… dirty little thing.” He punctuates every word with a thorough lick, and then… the show begins.
“Oh my,” I mewl, fisting his hair. “God. This is so nice.”
He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he slides one finger inside, timing the thrusts with the flicks of his tongue.
Just as I expected, just as I hoped, he doesn’t let me come when the orgasm looms close by. He eases off, kissing and biting my inner thigh as his big hands knead my hips until I cool down.
He does that once.
Twice.
And again.
And again…
By the fifth denial, a mist of sweat coats my neck. Whenever he comes up for air, breathing softly on my clit, I spasm, almost crawling out of my skin.
“Show me your eyes,” Conor coos. “Show me how much you want to come.”
“So much,” I pant, looking into his aroused, blown pupils. He holds my gaze, tongue out, licking slowly up to my apex, and the visual of him between my legs, staring at me as he inflicts so much pleasure, is almost enough to tip me over. Almost. “So so much… I might kill you if you don’t let me come.”
His eyes light up as he pushes two fingers back in, curling them quickly. “I might spill on the fucking sheets if I don’t get inside you soon, so we’re cutting this session short.”
“Short?!” I gasp, my back bowing off the mattress. “It’s been like an hour already.”
“Barely ten minutes, baby. We’ll get to hours soon, I promise.” His head drops down, torturing my clit with his tongue.
I’m so ready for the orgasm it’s mere seconds before it hits. I’m vaguely aware I’ve clamped my thighs around his head, holding him hostage as he licks me through the release.
I’m even less aware of how loud I am because blood inundates my head, briefly muting the world.
I’m here is the first thing I register.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
He’s suddenly closer, higher, his arms flush to my sides. He doesn’t wait until my boneless ass catches a breath or tunes back into the here and now before he moves between my legs.
One long, slow thrust almost has me coming again. He drives himself home, letting out a low growl that forces my body into high alert.
“Fuck,” he breathes, pressing his lips to my forehead. “So wet. So tight… so fucking mine. Are you back, baby? Look at me.”
My lips twist into a smile. “I didn’t go anywhere.”
“Nowhere but higher than the clouds,” he admits, buried inside me, unmoving. “Eyes, Vee.”
I obey, looking into the abyss of his black pupils as white spots blur my vision. “I’m a little lightheaded… dizzy.”
“You’re breathing too shallow and too fast when you come, that’s why. Take a deep breath for me.” He pecks my nose. “Good, another one. Better?”
I nod, wrapping my limp hands around his neck when his hips shift back before he bottoms out inside me. I’m almost bracing for a wild ride, but it doesn’t come.
After everything he said, I expected relentless, almost brutal sex. I expected the bed hammering the wall. I thought he’d move my body into ten different positions. I thought he’d make this fast and hard enough my pussy will hurt for days, but his moves are so damn cautious.
Caring. Tender. Slow.
But somehow, the force of his moves quadruples in seconds. Still slow but so thorough I feel every inch sliding in and out like I’m too tight to take him.
His grip on my waist is nothing short of possessive. His thrusts calculated to drive me crazy. Every look of his dark eyes is loaded with emotion. Even though the pace is nowhere near frantic, it’s the most stimulating experience in my life.
He’s not mindlessly ramming into me as fast as his body allows. No, he’s building the moment, and I quickly realize that this… this might be the sweetest form of torture.
He’s got me in a pot, flames licking the bottom. The water’s getting warmer. Every nibbling, biting kiss, every time he sinks into me, every push meticulous… the temperature soars.
I miss the moment it gets too hot, and I’m boiling, coming hard. So hard my eyes water. Thighs cramp. I try to swallow the sounds I can’t control, biting the back of my hand, but it’s useless.
“Eyes, Vee,” he rasps, bracing his hand against my throat. “I’ll teach you how to breathe evenly when you can’t catch enough air.” He waits until I look at him before his fingers tighten bit by bit. “Tell me when it gets too much. Breathe in time with my fingers. When I clench, breathe in. When I don’t, breathe out. Got it?”
I nod, still delusional, still drifting in pure ecstasy land.
I don’t think he wants me to recover. He pistons into me, not changing the pace one iota as he drives himself home over again. The weight of his big body pinning me to the mattress magnifies how erotic this feels. How close we are.
The precise, measured, long strokes, how his cock massages me from the inside, hitting the sweet spot, amplifies pleasure.
My body’s weak, my legs quiver, and the little oxygen I’m pulling down multiplies the sensations tenfold. He guides my breathing, and even though I barely feed my lungs any oxygen, I don’t feel like I’ll faint any second.
I part my mouth, pulling in short, measured breaths, and Conor dips his head, licking my bottom lip, then sucks and bites, never once breaking the torturous tempo of his hips.
“Good, easy, baby. You’re doing great. I’ll cut you off completely for fifteen seconds. When I let go, take a deep, steady breath. Don’t panic, okay? I’ll never hurt you.”
A single nod is the only answer I can give while the pleasure inside me stacks up, growing faster the harder he squeezes my neck. As soon as he completely cuts off my air supply, a shudder ripples my body, and my eyes close in pure bliss.
My ears ring. The pressure mounts so high it feels like I’ll burst, and when the orgasm hits, it compresses me from all sides, stripping my mind of a firewall I didn’t even know was there in the first place.
“That’s it,” Conor breathes into my mouth, loosening the hold on my neck. “Steady breath, baby.” He smiles against me when I comply. “That’s how you should come every time. So hard you don’t know where’s up and where’s down. So hard you feel like you’re drowning in that high.”
White spots dance before my eyes again, dissolving slowly, and his voice sounds distant.
“Yes, please,” I mutter, only now realizing he came, too. “But maybe not so hard that I don’t notice when you come.”
He kisses a line in the valley between my breasts, then sucks my nipple, gently scuffing it with his teeth. “Harder,” he says before he gets up, and my breath catches in my throat.
He’s still hard and… how he managed to fit that inside me with such ease will forever remain a mystery. It’s not about the length. I’ve been with a guy with an abnormally long dick, and Conor’s right up there, too. It’s the girth that has me stupefied.
None of my exes came anywhere near his size.
Must be why I felt every single thrust.
“You look like you want to lick me, Vee,” he muses, pulling a tee from the closet and throwing it for me to catch. “I won’t say no to that idea.”
“Good luck fitting your cock in my mouth.”
“It fits in your pussy.” He rests both fists on the bed and leans over me. “It’ll fit in your mouth and your ass just fine, too. You were made for me, baby.” He bends to kiss my forehead. “Wait here. I’ll grab a washcloth.”
I swallow hard, watching the door of the en suite close behind him. I’m no stranger to getting guys off with my mouth, but my ass… nope.
That’s off-limits.
