54. Eden
EDEN
“Home sweet home,” Connor says as we enter his condo. “Look the same?”
It’s been three weeks since I was last here, not that long. Still, a feeling of rightness rushes in to be here again, with him.
“Why, did you wildly redecorate?” I tease.
“Nah, same gray and blue shit as before.” Connor’s definitely not much of a decorator.
I step into his living room, quickly taking in the bland furniture and curtainless windows with their five-story view. “So I see.”
He grabs me from behind, kissing my hair. “You add all the color, Rosy. It was dreary without you.”
I melt against his embrace. “Missed you too.”
We stay there, looking out into the night sky, me wrapped in his arms. It’s like another reset, this time here at his place. A return to our normal from these three weeks apart.
Finally, he breaks the spell. “Do you want to stay up to watch the ball drop?”
“Yeah, I mean, neither of us has to do anything tomorrow morning, right?”
“Nope.”
I turn around and rest my head against his chest. “Our first New Year’s together. Let’s make the most of it.”
His hand comes under my chin, tilting it up. “Mmmhhhmmm.” He bends down to claim my lips. It starts chaste, confirmation he agrees.
But he doesn’t pull away, and I part my lips a fraction. A sigh escapes him, and he takes advantage, his tongue slipping in my mouth. Slowly exploring me. My heartbeat surges as our tongues meet.
I press my lower body against his on instinct, and his hands slip to my ass, squeezing me closer.
“I want you,” I whisper in between kisses.
Squeeze. “Do you want a scene? Or not tonight?” His voice is low and raspy.
It’s so rare that we have nothing to rush to the next day, and I don’t want to miss out on the opportunity to lose myself completely in him. “Scene.”
Squeeze. “Good answer.”
One more squeeze, and he releases me. “I need to give you your Christmas present first.”
What?
“Wait, we said no gifts?” My lips pout. I feel bad.
His brows lift, and I see signs of a smirk forming. “Trust me, this will count as a present for me too.”
It takes a second for me to connect what he means, but then I get the gist. It’s something for us to play with, like the cuffs. Okay, that’s…promising.
He goes into his bedroom and comes out with a gift-wrapped box. It’s barely larger than the one I brought for the “housewarming gift” when he first moved in. The wrapping paper has peppermint sticks all over it.
I shake the box after he hands it over. “Did Santa think I was a good girl?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Very much so.”
Without further delay, I open the paper and—oh!
It’s a vibrator. The picture on the box reveals it’s flower-shaped.
He’s gotten me a vibrator. A present I do want. “This is…I’m so excited to try it.” I had one last year, but it was in a different style and got lost in my traveling sometime before senior year.
“I thought we could use it…together?”
I’m not surprised; it was on my list. “In the scene tonight?” He nods. I start considering all the things he could do with it, and…yeah. “I’d love that.”
Grinning widely, he takes the box back. “It probably needs to get charged, and I have to load the app with the controls.”
“I’ll grab us some drinks and put on the countdown show in the meantime.”
He gets the vibrator charging and starts setting up the app. “Thirty minutes or so should be enough for the battery.”
When I come back out of the kitchen, I hand him a drink while the hosts on the New Year’s Eve show crack cheesy jokes in the background.
We sit for a few minutes on his couch, listening to them. I’m pretty sure everything they’re saying is scripted. Either way, it’s certainly not funny.
“They’re not exactly setting the mood,” Connor observes dryly.
My foot’s tapping against the rug. “Let’s put them on mute. How much longer?” I know barely any time has passed but chilling on the couch is not what my body wants. After three weeks away, alone with him in this apartment, I want either to make out with him or start the scene.
He walks over to the vibrator. “Fuck it, it should be fine.”
“Okay.” Hallelujah.
“Stand up, Rosy.”
Mmmmm. His command washes over me, a familiar ease following.
It’s been ten days since we’ve even played on FaceTime, but I automatically begin releasing everything external. Everything other than this.
When I stand up, he repositions me. “Come away from the couch more. In the center of the room.” Once satisfied, he kisses my neck, the wet heat of his lips marking me. “Perfect.”
He steps back and scans my body, then straightens his glasses. I stay silent. The quiet helps my mind continue to empty of everything except this moment.
At least ten seconds pass before he finally moves. His hand extends to my arm, lightly brushing my shirt with his fingertips.
“Stay as you are, Rosy. Don’t move until I tell you.”
My chest tingles. I missed that command he loves so much. “Yes, Sir.”
We’re back, together, giving each other what we both need.
His fingers leave my arm and start to brush against the front of my body. Following the ridges of my breasts with a featherlight touch, across to my other arm.
It’s like a tease. My nipples harden as he rolls his fingertips over them.
He doesn’t offer more, yet. Instead, he steps smoothly around me, reaching my mid-back.
“Arms up.”
Oh. I lift them, and he removes my shirt rapidly.
Tonight I wore a red satin bra, now revealed. He comes around to my front and takes me in. Not hiding the fact he’s raking his eyes over my cleavage.
“Those beautiful tits. Three weeks without…enjoying them in person was torture.”
Proud from his pleasure, I puff my chest the slightest. He licks his lips. “I need a taste.”
Then he pulls down both straps, so the cups are loose, before taking my right nipple in his mouth. Pleasure spikes through me as his warm mouth surrounds my bud, and my knees buckle slightly.
Stay still.
He ignores my wobble, switching to the other side. A little lick and then sucking on my left nipple. I struggle again to keep in place, as he goes for a second lick.
“Feels too good, Sir.”
“I know you can do it, Rosy,” he says as he licks my beaded nipple one more time, and I moan. “I’m just getting started, and no safe word, I notice.”
“N-no, Sir.” Definitely not.
“Remember you can use your ‘yellow’ if we need to slow down too.”
I stay quiet.
“Hm. I’ll stop for now, but for my own reasons. Let’s get rid of this.”
He undoes the snap of my bra and slides the straps off my arms fully. The red fabric falls to the ground.
Again, I’m the object of his gaze, his hands off me, as he stares at my breasts like they’re a meal.
“Be my good girl, and those rosy buds are going to get more of my mouth, later.”
I want that. I fight a whimper. “Yes, Sir.”
His eyes then shift from my breasts to the zipper of my jeans. “I’m going to strip you, before we miss the ball drop.”
Who cares about the ball drop when we’re doing this, I wonder for a moment. But then I quiet my mind. Listen to Sir, I repeat.
“I know it’s hard after weeks apart. You’re being very patient. So compliant. Something special is coming if you keep being good.”
I settle again. “Thank you, Sir.”
His hands come to the button on the top of my jeans, grazing my stomach, his torso inches from my bare breasts. The contact, the proximity, has my skin prickling. I feel myself holding my breath, hoping for more.
Pop. The button undone. The zipper is next, as he slides it down. The feel of his hand bringing it lower, toward my core, adds to the building heat. He’s literally so close to me. Watching every move.
I wish he could keep his hand there, right there, and touch me.
He decides what we do, though. Let him lead you. Be good.
He tugs my jeans to the floor. “Take your feet out of the bottoms.”
I step free like he asks, and he pulls them off.
“I’m unwrapping you like a present tonight. The best gift I’ve ever received.”
Hmmm, I like that.
I stand up a little straighter, now only in my satin panties, which have a little red bow on the center of the top elastic.
He hums with pleasure from his crouching position. “You did promise me a bow.”
“Yes, Sir. I thought…thought you’d like it.”
“I do. Very much.” He runs his hand over it. “My perfect girl.”
He straightens, still fully clothed, and as he did earlier, brushes me with his fingertips, only this time right over the top of my slit.
“You’re wet for me, already.” His hand slides further between my legs. “Just wait until we play with your present.” He thumbs my clit over my panties, as punctuation to that promise. A spike of pleasure follows, and this time, I do whimper.
“Pl-please, Sir.”
“All in due time, Rosy. These are coming off now.” He takes both sides of the satin and strips me bare. Kneeling at the base of my legs, he peers up, right at my naked core. Exposed to his perusal.
The look in his eyes is so hungry, I almost melt with pride. It’s me he wants.
Without warning, he runs a finger along my now-bare seam, growling when I tilt my hips toward the contact. “Don’t move, Rosy.”
I pause, and he otherwise seems undeterred. “This pretty pussy is already glistening at the thought of her toy, I see.”
And desperate for friction. I work hard not to shift, though, as instructed. His eyes heat more as he recognizes my compliance. “You’re such a good listener. I missed watching my best girl obey me.”
Warmth surges through me. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’ve earned a reward, Rosy.” I sigh, happy. “Lie down on the couch.” Relieved for the chance to shift my thighs, I follow the order immediately.
In the meantime, he pulls off all of his clothes—shirt, shorts, and boxers, his erection bobbing against his leg. All six foot six of him standing tall when he’s done, his glasses the only thing he’s wearing.
He looks like a panther. Tall, lean, strong—and deciding how he wants me.
He scans my body twice, then speaks.
“Put your outside foot on the rug, and leave the other one on the couch.” I shift accordingly, and his lips turn up. “That’s good. Spread yourself nice and wide for me.”