7. Eden #2
He slips his hand underneath the front of my skirt. The denim is stretchy because a girl likes to be comfortable, right? It comes in handy now as he’s able to move it easily, the skirt riding up my legs.
Slowly, he inches his hand up, meeting my bikini-style underwear.
“Still alright?”
“Yes.”
He slides his hand further, until I know he’s feeling my wetness through the fabric. A self-satisfied groan escapes his mouth.
“This is from me?”
I nod yes, unable to form words.
His fingers lightly rub over the wet spot, creating just enough friction over my sensitive skin to turn me on even more.
“Are you watching the fireworks?” he whispers in my ear while continuing to touch me. “Because I’m going to pet this pretty pussy until you come, as long as you keep your eyes on the sky.”
Holy crap.
No guy has ever spoken that way to me.
In combination with his soft movements over my sensitive spots, it’s enough to give me a small climax. My core squeezes as I shudder and let out a sigh.
He stills his hand. “Was that…”
“Yes, I…” My voice hesitates as I don’t know exactly what to say. “That was fast, sorry.”
He kisses the top of my head, keeping his hand in place over my panties. “No need to be sorry. I just wish I could see those rosy cheeks right now.”
It’s kind of a sweet thing to say, after the dirty talk. Connor is surprising me—the confidence, the directives, and now the softer side.
The fireworks continue to go off, as it’s only been maybe ten minutes since they started. Nice stamina, Eden.
That thought triggers another one—Connor’s erection is wedged against my back. Should I reciprocate?
I twist my head around as much as I can. “Can I…take care of you?”
He groans audibly, but then presses the palm of his hand against my panties again. “What I’d really like is to keep going. Would you want that?”
There’s no doubt in my mind that I have a bigger orgasm lurking if he keeps touching me.
“It seems selfish, but if it’s what you want too…”
He leans down and whispers, “I want to feel your soft skin tremble as I stroke right where you need. If this is our one night, that’s the memory I’m claiming.”
There’s a layer of earnestness over his otherwise serious tone. He wants me to agree.
I give my response by pushing slightly into his hand, causing him to hum.
“Eyes on the sky, Eden.” Then, he slides under my panties, skin on skin, finally.
At first, his fingers leisurely explore me, touching along both lips, up my slit, until he settles on my clit. Once there, he circles it, slowly. I can’t help but moan.
“That feels so…” My breath hitches as he rounds my sensitive nub again, and intense pleasure radiates through my clit.
With my reaction as validation, he swirls faster, again and again. I rest more of my weight against him, lost in the sensations. He responds by gliding his other hand to gently surround my neck. He’s not cutting off my breathing in any way, but I’m firmly under his power.
“Is this okay? Holding you like this?”
The odd thing about our new position is that I’ve never felt so safe. He seems content to please me.
“Yes…”
One hand around the sides of my neck, he renews his attention on my clit using his other. All of my focus goes to the pleasure pulsing through my core. He has me contained, secured; my role is to receive his touch.
A moment later, he somehow has the ability to remind me of his other instructions.
“Are your eyes open? Are you watching the fireworks?”
With my clit throbbing, my climax near, I resist the urge to tell him I can’t, that it’s all too much—and instead, I follow the order.
“Yessss, I’m…watching them,” I whisper.
My eyes stay up on the exploding colored lights, in what has to be the grand finale at this point, while my body reaches the height of my climax.
Waves of warm ecstasy roll over me, and I lean fully into him. His hand still relentless as I shake in his arms, it’s the best orgasm I can remember.
Trembling against him, completely at his mercy as he holds up my body weight.
Eventually, as time passes, I come down from my peak, and I become aware of our surroundings, though I’m still hazy. His hand stays in place around my neck, but he slowly pulls his hand from under my skirt.
Another minute goes by, and a soft kiss on the top of my head is followed by him shifting his hand from my neck back to my shoulder.
“You alright?” He gives me the barest squeeze as he asks the question.
I take the chance to turn around and press my lips to his, hard and firm. “That was amazing,” I say against his mouth, before bringing my head back.
He’s grinning. “An adequate celebration of your independence?”
It takes me a couple seconds to understand what he means. My new singlehood. I giggle.
“Yes, thank you, Connor.”
His smile widens. “Anytime.”
We look at each other for a second before I realize his response isn’t correct.
“Except you’re about to leave for New Jersey.”
He bunches his nose. “Except that.”
There’s not much more to be said, so I gesture toward the path with my head and he nods before we both start walking.
As we get closer to Bree’s house, unease settles in. I don’t want to not talk to him again, but what does that even mean?
Don’t go there, Eden. Enjoy the experience for what it was.
As if I’m trying to convince myself, I say, “If we’re going to only have one night, this was a perfect one. Thank you.”
“When there were fireworks—and fireworks.” He raises his brow, and I can see a little smirk.
I laugh. “For me, there was. For you, I’m sorry.” I glance down, and yep, there are still signs of a tent in his shorts, though it seems to be lessening, mercifully.
“Don’t be.” He brings his hand to the back of my neck, cradling it gently.
He keeps his hand there for the rest of the walk back, dropping it only as he opens the screen door.
When we reenter the party, no one seems to question where we were, though Bree gives me a wink. Integrating back into the group conversations, Connor doesn’t leave my side, even as we chatter along with the others.
People start wrapping up the evening an hour later, with a couple of designated drivers on duty.
Connor looks at me as the last few guests start to grab their belongings. “I better go. Are you crashing here or going home?”
“I’m sleeping here.” Bree and I had already planned for me to stay.
He nods and looks like he wants to say something, but holds himself back. “Okay, walk me out?”
I do, and as we reach his car, he bends down to get into the driver’s seat before standing back up.
I’d switched into flip-flops when we got back to the house earlier, so his nine extra inches are fully evident as he peers down at me, and I have to tilt my head up.
“Have a good junior year, Eden.” His voice is loaded with warmth, maybe more than ever before. It’s like he’s trying to say something else.
“You too. Senior year, I mean.”
With a few people still milling around the driveway, there’s no opportunity for us to touch each other.
Instead, he simply ducks into his seat and drives off.