Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
DONNIE
I find Connor downstairs in the theater room when I get home in the evening. He’s curled up in a ball, staring at the screen.
“Hey, what are you watching?”
He holds out his hand and when I take it, he drags me onto the couch with him.
He settles his head in my lap and my fingers immediately go to his hair.
I think this is going to be my new favorite thing, playing with his hair.
He hums whenever I comb my fingers through it.
He gasps whenever I rake my nails across his scalp.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what you’re watching?”
He shrugs. His eyes are closed. I go on high alert. Something’s wrong.
“Did something happen today?”
Connor turns onto his side and buries his face into my stomach, his arm curls around my waist, holding us together. My heart rate spikes instantly and that rage monster I’ve developed cracks his knuckles.
Connor mumbles something against my stomach.
“What was that, darling?” I try to lean back so I can hear what he’s saying, but Connor tugs me closer.
“Wyatt called me,” he says, a little louder. “Or I called Wyatt or whatever.”
Christ, of course it has to do with Wyatt or Miles. They just can’t leave Connor alone, can they? “What did he want?
“He said they’re in love.”
I don’t know how to feel about that. Shitty because of what it means for Connor. Good riddance since Connor doesn’t need them anymore. He’s got me. Either way, it’s no excuse for sleeping together behind his back. “Is that supposed to make what they did okay?”
Connor shoots up and spins to face me. “That’s what I said! He actually wants to do the grant interview together! Can you believe it? Together!”
My anger is chomping at the bit and I curl my fingers into the couch cushion in a feeble attempt to keep myself grounded. “What did you tell him?” My voice sounds surprisingly level, considering the amount of adrenaline coursing through my system.
“I told him to go fuck himself!”
My lips twitch. It’s not funny, but it’s pretty funny. “Yeah, you did.”
“Yeah! I did!” Connor’s eyes are bright and his cheeks are flushed with color. He’s breathing hard and vibrating with energy like he’s in the middle of one of my classes. He’s gorgeous and I want to drag him straight to bed.
Then suddenly, he deflates like someone yanked the plug on him. “I told Wyatt to pull our grant application.”
Shit. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs, though it looks more like a full-body slump. “Yeah, well.”
I pull him to me, head on my shoulder, and I press a kiss to the top of his head.
“I talked to Rick about it. He says there will be other grants.”
Whoever this Rick is, I approve. “He’s right. There will be.”
“It’s just…”
“I know,” I say when Connor trails off. “It’s hard, I know.”
Connor lifts his head to look up at me. His eyes aren’t as bright as they were a moment before, but there’s something else in them now. A heat that ripples through me and settles in my groin.
I kiss him. I trace the curve of that plump bottom lip of his with my tongue, then draw it into my mouth to suck on it.
He gasps and lets out a low needy sound.
My hands are in his hair, holding him at the right angle as I swipe my tongue over his.
He swipes back and we’re licking at each other until my head spins.
“Donnie,” he says with such vulnerability that my entire body reacts.
My dick is hard, my pulse is racing, my skin breaks out in goosebumps. He needs me and I want him and in this moment, nothing else matters.
I grab the back of his shirt and tug. Connor bends and the shirt comes right off him. I toss it away. He unzips my light jacket, pushes it off my shoulders, then takes the hem of my Mars t-shirt and pulls it over my head.
The light from the screen flickers over Connor’s body.
He’s not ripped like so many of the other men at Mars.
He’s wide and solid and he’s got a precious layer of padding around his middle.
I run my fingers over him, loving how his body moves and bunches under my touch.
He has this light blond fuzz everywhere—his shoulders, his forearms, his back—that makes me want to pet and stroke him all night.
I push him onto his back and straddle him. I pinch his nipples and he jolts like I’ve electrocuted him. His dick is hard in his jeans and I roll my hips, feeling it grow under me. I lift one of his arms and lick into the sensitive curves there.
“Donnie!” He wriggles and tries to pull him arm down while trying to push my head in deeper at the same time.
I do it again. There’s something so intimate about a man’s armpits. So many nerve-endings and yet so often ignored. A man’s scent there is potent and raw, unfiltered and primal. I could spend hours painting Connor’s pits with my tongue.
“Donnie, please!”
Especially when he begs me so prettily like that.
I switch to his other arm, finding every little dip, nipping at every fold of skin.
Connor’s sobbing. He can’t hold still. He’s almost bucking us right off the couch.
I kiss him, pushing my tongue into his mouth, letting him taste himself on me.
He moans and sucks on my tongue and I maybe come a little in my sweats.
“Please, Donnie, let me fuck you. Please.”
Well, when he asks so politely. I jump off him and pull him to his feet. We sprint up the stairs and I skid to a stop on the second floor. My stomach drops. “I don’t have condoms.” And if I did, they’d for sure be expired.
“I do.” Connor pushes past me into his room and starts rummaging through his gym bags. Thank god for twenty-somethings who never leave the house without supplies.
I drop my sweats and underwear and climb onto the bed. When Connor turns to me, the look that comes over his face makes my breath hitch in my chest. He’s studying me like I’m a masterpiece and he’s a devoted art history student. He steps out of his jeans and climbs up from the foot of the bed.
His gaze is hot as it trails up my legs and lingers on my cock. It’s hard and leaking. My balls are already drawn up tight. He ghosts his fingers over my hips, down one side and up the other, then he does it again and my hips come off the bed.
Connor’s eyes flick to mine. His got that lip of his caught between his teeth, and when he looks at me through his lashes like that, fuck, it’s too much.
I reach for him and he covers me with his body.
So big, so heavy. I spread my legs and his hips settle right down between them.
I take that lip from him. If he gets to chew on it, then I want to chew on it too.
Connor moans and jerks. His hot, thick cock brushes along mine. Goddamn, I want that thing inside me. I want it stretching me open and filling me up. I want to feel his hip bones hitting my ass, driving me into the mattress. I want to be sore afterward. I want to walk funny tomorrow.
“Connor, fuck me.”
He sits back and fumbles for the condom.
I take the moment to flip onto my stomach, drawing my knees under me so my ass is in the air.
Christ, it’s been a long time since I’ve put myself in this kind of position, since I’ve opened myself up to someone else like this.
My cheeks are hot at how wanton I feel. My dick throbs at the lewd image I must present.
Connor’s hands run up the backs of my thighs. They cover my ass, give them a squeeze, then pull them apart. The air is cold on my hole.
“Holy shit.” Connor’s breath is hot on it.
I quiver, needing him, his tongue, his cock, his body. “Connor.”
He licks a quick swipe across my hole. I let out a high-pitch whine. He does it again, and I whine even higher. Connor twirls his tongue around and around the entrance to my body until I’m blabbering into the sheets and arching up for more. Then his tongue is pushing into me and I sob with relief.
It’s wet and weird and I’ve forgotten how fucking good it feels.
Connor takes his time opening me up and my heart swells with tenderness for him.
I’m tight and unpracticed after so many years and it takes me a few minutes to remember how to let someone inside.
When he pushes a lubed finger into me, my body screams with pleasure, and I almost come with that tiny penetration.
When he pushes in another, the pain of the stretch only adds to the sparks firing all over me.
He fucks me with his fingers and his tongue, finding my prostate and massaging it from the inside. It’s too good, too much, and I swear I’m going to fucking come like that. He needs to get his cock in me now or he’s not going to at all tonight.
“Please, Connor. Hurry.”
He pulls away and a moment later, I feel the blunt tip of his dick against my hole.
There’s pressure against me, but I’m too tight.
The pressure increases and for a second I’m mortified that this isn’t going to work.
I breathe deep, remind myself to relax, and when he presses in again, I bear down.
The head of his cock slips into me and holy fucking shit, I feel like I’m flying apart.
Connor leans over me, covering me with his big body, pinning me down with his weight.
I muffle my sobs with a pillow. It’s not only how incredibly good it feels to have him in me, it’s more than the physical sensation.
He’s brought my body back to life. He’s showing me that there’s more to living than merely going through the same daily routine.
He’s reminding me that it’s never too late to start over, to try something new, to take risks.
He rocks slowly, gently, inching deeper and deeper into me. When he’s fully seated, we’re both trembling, teetering on the edge. I’m full. It’s staggering. My dick is pulsing and I feel it from the roots of my hair to the soles of my feet. I’m not going to last long. I don’t even want to try.
“Fuck me, Connor. Hard. Fast. Make me come.”
Connor growls in my ear. He pulls halfway out and slams back in. That’s it. Exactly like that. Tear me apart. Ruin me.
Connor fucks me. I’m flat on my stomach.
His arm is wrapped over my shoulder and across my chest. I dig my fingers into his forearms and hang on for dear life.
His cock is pistoning in and out of my ass, hard and fast, just like I asked for.
Sweat drips off him and onto me. Every lungful of air I suck in smells like fucking sex.
And in the midst of our bodies crashing together over and over again, a peace settles over me.
This is right. This is good. This is as it should be.
Something special has developed between us, something we need to cherish and nurture. It’s going to end well. I know it in the deepest parts of me.
My orgasm is almost an afterthought, just pleasure surging through nerves that are already overloaded. I don’t scream. I don’t sob. I think I’m smiling into the pillow as I ride the wave.
Above me, Connor comes too. He sinks deep into me and his whole-body contracts around me. It’s wonderful. I love it. I want to stay like this forever.