7. Connor
Chapter 7
Connor
My right hand lingers over the door handle, the room card in my other hand. She wouldn’t even notice me coming in.
I should turn and go. Have I not already done enough damage?
Fuck.
Why did she do that? Why did she kiss me back and suck my thumb like she would suck my cock?
I slide the card into the slot. You can’t hear the door click with the shower on. I would love to join her and continue our little exchange from earlier.
Her lips were parted, and these big blue eyes were begging me to… I had to get away before my body took over, and I’d bent her over her daddy’s desk. Punishing her for still thinking about Chris when all she should think about is me. Connor.
Soon .
Steam billows from the bathroom. I inch closer and catch a glimpse of her through the glass.
Praise to the architect who designed these bathrooms. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have this perfect vision of her. She stands under the stream of water, head tilted back, eyes shut. Her hair clings to her body as she runs her fingers through it.
My cock strains against my jeans. I shouldn’t be here. Not with all I’ve done behind closed doors. I take another step forward.
She hums tunelessly, lost in her own world, and lathers her body with soap. The sight of her hands gliding over her skin, caressing each curve and contour, makes me jealous. I want it to be my hands.
My mouth goes dry as she moves her hand between her legs, little moans escaping her lips. I grip the length of my shaft through the fabric of my jeans, closing my eyes. The things she does to me.
Would you let me take over? Fuck you right under the stream of hot water?
The sound of the shower turning off snaps me back to reality. I gulp a deep breath, hoping to calm the storm within me, but it’s futile.
I’ve already crossed a line I can never uncross. And now she’s under my skin, in my blood. An addiction I can’t kick. I want to claim her, make her see that she belongs to me. And I understand the danger of my obsession, but fuck, I can’t bring myself to turn away from her. Not anymore .
Mary steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her body.
It’s time to retreat to the good old balcony. I’m careful not to make a sound and leave the curtain a tad open so I can have a sufficient view inside.
After drying off, she slips into a silky nightshirt. No panties. My hands clench into fists at my sides. Are you trying to kill me, Blue?
She climbs into bed, turns off the light, and lies down. I wait an hour before getting back inside, sinking into the chair beside her bed and watching Mary’s chest steadily rise and fall. The only sound is her soft breathing.
You should work less, Blue. Then, you could sleep in your apartment.
Is there a reason she avoids it? That she works long hours on purpose? Because instead of going home, she stays at the hotel right below the office area. The Wempton hotels are known for their luxurious rooms, but she always stays in one of the standard ones. Why?
She deserves everything and more.
Mary stirs, turning her head on the pillow, her lips parting in a sigh. What are you dreaming about? Is it still him?
My jaw clenches. She has to let go of him.
I lean forward. She’s so peaceful, so beautiful. I want to reach out and touch her, feel the softness of her skin under my fingertips.
As much as it pains me, I have to —
She whimpers, twisting the sheets in her fists, and the dreadful word ‘Chris’ slips from her lips in a moan. She turns onto her side, revealing more of her skin in the process.
Shit. The need to be near her, to touch her, to claim what is mine, overtakes all reason. I’m on my feet before I realize I’ve moved, drawn to her side. My fingers brush her cheek down to the pulse fluttering at her throat.
So fragile, so breakable.
Yet she’s the only thing holding me together.
“Blue.”
For a moment, she tenses under my touch, and I freeze, my heart pounding. Her eyes open, still drowsy and hazy, while focusing on me.
“You.” She closes them again, nuzzling into my hand. “You came back.”
I frown. She thinks that I’m her precious Chris.
“Yes.” Who am I to deny us both what we so desperately crave?
I trail my fingers over the slope of her shoulder to the top of her breasts and come to rest at the edge of her camisole while she arches into my touch with a soft moan. She’s giving me permission, if only by mistake.
My fingers trail lower over the peak of her breast, eliciting a gasp from her.
“Shh.” I pinch her nipple through the fabric.
Her eyes fly open, clouded with arousal.
“Just feel,” I say .
She’s trying to say something, but all that comes out is a moan as I pinch harder, twisting enough to straddle the line between pleasure and pain.
Her hands fly to my wrists, nails digging in. “Stop.”
I do.
She checks me out, pressing her thighs together.
With a gentle touch, I rest my other hand on her bare thigh, sliding higher. “Do you really want me to stop?”
She shakes her head.
“I need you to say it.”
“Make me feel again. Please.”
Hearing her beg undoes the last shreds of my restraint, my cock twitching to life. I shove the straps of her camisole down, baring her breasts. They’re perfect, tipped with dusky rose nipples already pebbling.
I lean down, take one into my mouth, and swirl my tongue around it.
She cries out and fists her hands in my hair, holding me in place. I devote the same focus to her other breast until she’s writhing beneath me with soft mewls of pleasure.
“More,” she begs.
I’m painfully hard and want nothing more than to bury myself inside her, feel her wet pussy wrapped around me as I drive her to climax.
My hand grazes up her thigh, tracing the soft skin under her shirt, and my fingers stroke her clit. Every instinct screams at me to go, but I can’t. Not like this. She’s so wet for me already. I strip the nightshirt off her and throw it to the ground.
All mine.
After covering her body with mine, I press my lips against hers. Her taste is intoxicating, like the sweetest wine. Her hands shift to my chest, twisting her hips.
Fuck, Blue. Don’t do this to me.
I place kisses down her stomach, nipping at her skin as I go and pausing as I reach her bare, swollen pussy. She is perfect in every way.
“Tell me to stop,” I say.
“I won’t.”
A ghost of a smile plays on my lips. Good girl.
I groan, my tongue circling her clit, starting gently and increasing the pressure as her whimpers and squirms grow more insistent beneath me. I taste her addicting sweetness.
Slowly, I insert one finger, and she pushes back against me. It feels so damn good claiming her like this. I take her clit between my teeth and suck while increasing the rhythm and pressure of my fingers inside her. Her hips buck and writhe.
This is all for me. Not Chris.
Her cries grow louder, her eyelids fluttering shut, and I savor the taste of her as I work her into a frenzy, feeling her walls clenching around my fingers. She’s so close. So close to coming undone.
When I curl my fingers, hitting a deeper spot, she shatters, her body tensing beneath me. I stare down at her flushed and panting form, her eyes still closed in a blissful release.
My fingers are slick with her wetness, and my cock strains painfully against my jeans. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to rip them off and bury myself inside her. To feel those tight, silken walls contracting around me as I fuck her into oblivion.
But I can’t. She thinks I’m him.
I withdraw my fingers, eliciting a small whimper from her lips. Her eyes open, meeting mine with something like wonder.
I place tender kisses on her sensitive pussy, trailing up her stomach and across her breasts, each one like a bittersweet farewell.
Upon reaching her neck, I come to a halt. I can’t.
With a heavy heart, I take in her rosy cheeks and the haze in her eyes. Cruel irony. Isn’t it? Even as I yearn for her more than anything else, I must walk away.
“Chris?”
My jaw tightens. Why? Would you still love him if you knew who he truly is?
“It’s Connor, baby.”
“Connor.” She cries out as I bite down on her neck.
I think that’s the first time she ever said my name. Fuck, do I want to fill her up with my cock now .
She’s not ready for that yet. I can’t scare her away now, not when I finally have her right where I want. Instead, I soothe the mark with my tongue.
“You’re—” She yawns. “I like this dream.”
As she drifts off to sleep, I brush the softest of kisses against her neck.
“Sweet dreams, Blue.” I get off the bed and tuck her into the covers.
She’s adorable like this, curled on her side with one hand tucked under her cheek. Beautiful. Innocent.
And mine.
I’ll keep her safe, give her anything she needs, and take care of her in every way possible.
She’ll learn to need me the way I need her. Just a matter of patience.
I turn and slip out the door.
By the time I make it home, I’m hard and aching. I strip off my clothes and collapse onto the bed, stroking my cock roughly as I recollect the sounds she made, how she tasted, and the way she clenched around my fingers.
It doesn’t take long before I groan her name, spilling over my fist. But the release brings no relief. I’m left empty and wanting, filled with a bone-deep craving only one person can satisfy.
Her. Always her.
I’m tired of fighting it. She is mine, she always has been, and I won’t give her up.
Not when I had a taste of paradise. Twice.