“Yes. Beautiful. You taste like fucking heaven,” he whispers, licking me, kissing me, worshipping me with his mouth.
I’m full of him, coming for him, and still I want more. I groan. My thighs shake. Every part of me shakes. Every part of me is desperate for his touch, for his hot, filthy words and sweet, gentle possession. I want whatever he wants to give me, but most of all, I want it now.
Connor rises. He sets my ankles on his shoulders and pulls me down to the edge of the mattress so his cock is pressed against my pussy. I feel it twitch and pulse.
I rock my hips against his hard length, loving it when I hear him hiss out a sharp breath. He turns his face to my leg and bites me on the ankle.
“You good?”
His voice is gravelly with lust, but also soft with concern, and that shatters me. I open my eyes and look at him. He’s flushed, breathing hard, the muscles in his chest and arms are corded and tense. Gorgeous.
When I nod, he bites me just a little harder. He watches me lick my lips. Trailing his hands down my calves to my thighs, he rocks his hips so that his cock slides through my wet folds, back and forth, slow and torturing.
My head tilts back. My eyes slide shut. I moan.
“Gonna fuck you now, princess.”
“Thank God.”
His laugh is soft and pleased. Then the engorged head of his erection presses into my heat.
He slides in agonizingly slow, so I feel every inch, until I’m so full, my moans are broken. When he stays like that, hot and throbbing inside me, unmoving, just running his hands up and down my legs and over my hips, I tilt my pelvis and whimper. “Now now now now now!”
His laugh is soft and dark. He slides halfway out and then grips my hips and plunges deep inside me.
I cry out his name. He starts to fuck me with short, hard strokes, his fingers digging into my flesh, grunts of pleasure torn out of him with every thrust. He’s talking too, words of adoration whispered in his rich, husky voice, but I lose the shape of them beneath the crashing of my heartbeat in my ears, and just let myself fall deeper.
My legs slide off his shoulders. He falls on top of me, kissing me savagely on my belly and breasts, biting, licking, sucking, all the while grunting and panting, sounding wild. He rears up on his elbows and grips my head, pulling my hair, manhandling me, rough and tender at the same time. His chest is slick with sweat. My legs wrap around his waist.
My pussy clenches around him, and I arch, moaning, lost to the sensation. I’m close again.
He says hoarsely into my neck, “Not yet. Tabby—I can’t—hold on—”
He shudders and groans, his words cut off, and I know he’s about to come too.
I turn my face to his ear and plead, “I need you somewhere else.”
He stills, lifts his head, looks at me. When I bite my lip, his dark eyes flash. He slides his hand down my ribs, over my hip to my ass. I feel a press and a stroke between my cheeks, a gentle push, and I gasp when he sinks his finger deep—
“Here?”
I mew, rocking against his cock and his finger, wordlessly begging.
He exhales a slow, ragged breath. His brows draw together. “Are you sure?”
I can see exactly how much he wants this, which makes his hesitation all the more sweet. I drop my bound arms around his shoulders and give him a long, passionate kiss.
“Yes,” I whisper, nipping his full lower lip. Then I roll onto my stomach, spread my legs, arch my back and glance at him over my shoulder. “I’m sure.”
He looks down at me, presenting myself for his eyes to feast on. His lips part. His nostrils flare. A sharp tremor runs through him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, his voice throbbing with desire.
With simple honesty, I say, “I want you to come inside me. Like this.” When he hesitates, his body radiating ambivalence, I add, “Soon.”
His eyes flash to mine. With my demand so clearly articulated, Connor can’t find another reason to delay.
He runs his hand up my back, tangles his fingers into my hair. He presses himself against me for a moment, inhaling against my skin, letting me feel all his jumbled emotions through the wild pounding of his heart. Then he releases my hair, drags his hands down my ribs and over my waist, and with his hands flat on the small of my back, presses me against the mattress.
“Open your legs wider,” he says, his tone full of command. My arms over my head and my face pressed to the blanket, I close my eyes and do as he asks.
He slaps my ass. Surprised, I yelp and jerk.
He smooths his hands over the sting, softly stroking, crooning words of praise. Then he slaps me again even harder on the other cheek, making me moan. After eight more sharp slaps alternating back and forth from left to right cheek, he whispers, “So fucking wet. Look at you. All down your thighs.”
I can’t help myself. I rock my hips wantonly, canting my ass in the air, desperate to have him inside me.
“God, Tabby. You’re so—” His voice breaks.