She slowly shook her head.
“You don’t want to think, Hudson. You want someone to tell you what to do.”
The frown returned, digging a groove into her forehead. “That’s not true. I can think for myself.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” His blunt fingers meandered down her neck. “I said you don’t want to.”
“That’s… not true.”
“You don’t want to be in control.” He touched the center of her throat, his thumb pressing into the pulse point that was throbbing erratically. “Because you’re always in control – aren’t you, sweetheart?”
No. Yes. She didn’t even know anymore. She couldn’t form coherent thoughts when he was touching her.
“That’s how it is with city folk. You don’t even realize you’re doing it – putting up walls, guarding your thoughts, reining yourself in. You don’t realize how frustrated you are. The GC gives you food and protection and so-called equality, but deep down you know something isn’t right. You become hardened without even realizing it.”
She was hypnotized by his eyes. His words. His callused hands sliding beneath her shirt.
“And then you come out here and your guard drops, inch by inch, until you’re stripped bare.” He lifted her shirt to expose her breasts, then eased it off and tossed it aside, leaving her naked from the waist up. “But even then you’re still stuck in that old mind-set, so concerned about following the rules, trying to figure out what’s right or wrong or sinful.” His lips quirked. “Here’s a little secret for you, baby – there are no rules out here.”
He drew her zipper down, and she instinctively helped him take her pants off, lifting one leg and then the other to step out of them. He kicked the jeans away, his molten gaze resting on her skimpy panties.
“There’s no reason for you to think right now. All you have to do is feel.”
He cupped her pussy over her underwear, and arousal jolted through her. She was feeling, all right. So much sensation. Pure lust overload.
“It’s exhausting, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Doing what’s expected of you, wanting so badly to let go but being unable to do it because you don’t trust anyone but yourself.” His fingers slipped inside her panties, hovering over her clit without touching it, without giving her the contact she craved. “Stop fighting it. Stop thinking. That’s your kink – letting someone else take control, even if it’s for a few hours, a few minutes.”
Was he right? She was scared that he might be. But she hadn’t been raised to let someone else take the lead; she’d been raised to be in control. And yet she’d been denied the outlet a person needed when all that responsibility inevitably took its toll on you.
How was that fair? Dominik and his men were allowed to do whatever the hell they pleased. They came back after their colony sweeps and were able to release their frustration and aggression and just feel, while she was banished to her room and ordered to bottle up her urges. Unable to feel pleasure without worrying about Dominik punishing the man who gave it to her.
Connor’s finger ghosted over her clit, barely a caress, nowhere near enough, but the featherlight contact muddled her mind even more. Another thought niggled at her, trying to breach the haze of desire – who was he really talking about? Her? Or was it he who longed to let go, who suffocated under the burden of staying in control every second of every day?
She didn’t have time to dwell on that, because suddenly there was pressure on her clit. His finger. Rubbing. Teasing. Sending tiny shock waves up her spine with each circular stroke. His tongue came out to moisten his bottom lip, and she watched it in fascination, the ache between her legs throbbing harder. She wanted his tongue on her, in her. She wanted to feel that dizzying rush of pleasure he’d made her feel last night when he’d licked her pussy with damn near desperation.
But Connor had other ideas.
“Get on the table. Lie back and spread your legs for me.”
She obeyed without question. The wood table was cool beneath her back, rough against her ass. She felt so damn vulnerable as he loomed over her, his hot gaze roaming her naked body.
“Wider,” he muttered.
Her legs shifted farther apart and his eyes burned into her.
She couldn’t breathe. She lay there watching him, waiting. It seemed like forever before he began shedding his clothes. His jeans. His boots. His black sleeveless shirt. Each time a new patch of bronzed skin was revealed, her heart beat faster. By the time he was fully naked, all she could hear was the sound of blood rushing in her ears.