28. Malachi
Chapter 28
Malachi
Connor’s entire body goes still, but I don’t look away. I refuse to. I watch as his jaw clenches, and for a second, I think he’s going to laugh, make some cocky remark, brush it off like it means nothing.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans in and brushes his lips against my ear. “I’ve been yours longer than you’ve realized, mo stóirín .”
His words send a shiver through me, my stomach twisting at the way he says it—like it’s something he’s known for a long time, something he’s been waiting for me to figure out. Like I’m the slow one here.
I don’t know what to do with the way he’s looking at me, breathing heavily, his hands tight on my hips like he’s letting me have control right now. I don’t know why he’s giving me the choice—he’s always been the one calling the shots.
I let my fingers drift lower again, dragging along the ridges of his abs, feeling the flex of muscle beneath my touch. He’s warm, solid, real—and for some fucking reason, that makes something tighten in my chest.
My fingers skim back up, tracing along his ribs, and then, finally, I press my hands flat against his chest. His heart is racing.
I glance up at him, searching his face, and I don’t know what I expect to see—his usual smug grin, maybe, some teasing comment lined up and ready to go. But he’s just looking at me. Watching me.
Like I matter.
My breath shudders; I don’t want to think about why. I don’t want to think about the way this feels—how it’s not just desperate or heated or something I’ll hate myself for later. I want him. Not just to touch, not just to make him lose control.
I want him.
So I take him.
I grab him by the back of his neck and drag him down, and this time it’s me making the demand.
Connor groans into the kiss, his hands tightening on my waist before sliding down to grip my thighs. He grinds his body against me, and I swear I feel my head fucking spin when his cock rubs against mine.
He deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, and I let him, my fingers tangling in his hair as I arch up into him. The heat between us is unbearable, my skin burning everywhere he touches me, and I know— I fucking know —that I’m too far gone.
His lips break from mine, trailing down my jaw, my throat, his teeth scraping along my pulse point, and I gasp, my grip on him tightening.
“There he is,” he says, his voice rough with satisfaction. “Knew you had it in you, baby.”
I want to snap something back, but then his tongue flicks over me again, and I arch off the bed, my body betraying me completely. He moves lower, his lips trailing over my stomach, my hips, his fingers digging into my skin like he’s holding himself back from doing something even worse.
But then his fingers press against my cock through the fabric, and a soft, broken whimper escapes before I can stop it. Connor freezes for half a second, and then something flickers in his expression. His smirk disappears, replaced by something almost predatory.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice guttural. “Do that again.”
I shake my head, trying to twist away, but he doesn’t let me. His hand presses harder, and the noise that escapes my throat isn’t even human. It’s soft, desperate and humiliating.
“That’s it,” Connor groans as he drags the sounds out of me. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought.”
“You’re insane,” I whimper.
“No, Babyface,” he says, his tone dripping with smugness as his hand moves, slow and torturous over my cock. “I’m just obsessed with those fuckin’ blue eyes.”
I shiver as his mouth moves to my jaw, then to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that sends a jolt straight through me. His lips trail over my chest, down to my stomach, leaving a path of heat in their wake. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady as he kneels before me, his eyes flicking up to meet mine, pinning me in place.
“You’re shakin’,” he says, smoothing his hands over my thighs. “Relax, Babyface. I’ve got you.”
I bite my lip, my heart pounding as I watch him, frozen in place as his hands move to the waistband of my sweats. He doesn’t rush, almost as if giving me every chance to stop him, to say no.
But I don’t. I can’t. His mouth is on me through the fabric at first, teasing, making me squirm, my cock already hard as he presses his tongue against me, his teeth just barely scraping.
“Fuck,” I choke out, my head falling back against the pillow.
He hums like he’s amused by my reaction. “Thought you hated me, mo stóirín, ” he chuckles, his lips brushing against my hip. “Thought you wanted nothin’ to do with me.”
“Fuck you,” I snap, but it’s weak—breathless.
“That right?” he chuckles. “Seems to me like you want this just as bad as I do.”
My breath catches as he pulls my sweats and briefs down, and my cock jerks against my stomach, pre-cum smearing against my skin and his gaze darkens.
His tongue flicks out to wet his lips. “Fuck, Malachi,” he groans, wrapping a hand around the base of my cock, stroking in slow and in a teasing manner. “You’re already drippin’ for me. What a pretty fuckin’ mess.”
He drags his heated gaze over me, and it’s too much. I move to shove my hands over my face, to block out the way he’s looking at me like he’s about to ruin me completely, but Connor’s already grabbing my wrists, pinning them down.
“Oh, no, baby,” he tuts. “I want you to watch.”
I’m going to kill him.
I’m going to fucking kill him.
But then his mouth is on me, hot and wet and perfect, and I let out a strangled noise. My hips jerk up instinctively as his tongue flicks against the slit before he takes me harder this time, rougher, like he’s making a fucking point.
I grab at his hair, yanking just to have something to hold onto, but it only makes him groan. “Jaysus fuck,” I gasp, my hands shaking where they grip him. “Where the hell did you learn—”
He pulls off just enough to shoot me a wicked smirk, his lips slick. “Never sucked cock before,” he admits, his thumb stroking over my slit, spreading the mess there. “Guess I’m just a natural with you.”
I arch up, fucking lost, when the heat of his mouth drags me under again. He’s sloppy, hungry, stroking what he can’t take, his grip bruising where it holds my hips down. I can feel his groan vibrate against me, the sound wrecked like he’s getting off on this just as much as I am.
Nothing exists except this—except him.
His green eyes stay locked on me, and the intensity in them sends a shiver down my spine. “God, Connor,” I breathe heavily, my voice breaking as another whimper escapes my throat, and he groans in response.
He’s relentless, his tongue and hand working in tandem, driving me higher and higher until I’m barely holding on. My breaths come in sharp gasps, my body straining as every nerve feels like it’s on fire.
“Such a fuckin’ brat,” Connor mutters against my skin when he pulls off and strokes me, his voice a low growl. “But look at you now—so good, baby. So fuckin’ sweet for me.”
I’m going to lose it.
“Connor—”
He doesn’t let me finish. His mouth is on me again, his movements rougher, his hands pulling me closer as if he’s trying to devour me whole. The wet heat of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth—it’s too much, too intense, and my head tips back as another broken sound escapes me.
I can’t even fucking think, my body coiled too tight, everything inside me locking up as he sucks harder. Then he lets go completely, a string of spit connecting his lips to my cock, and I nearly sob.
“No,” I whine, trying to push his head back down. “The fuck are you—”
He grabs my wrists, pinning them to the mattress as he hovers over me, his lips swollen and his pupils blown wide. “I’m not lettin’ you come yet,” he says, pressing a bite to my throat. “Not till I say you can.”
My hips buck up, desperate for friction, but he doesn’t give me any. Just holds me there, his hands gripping my wrists, his body caging me in, owning me completely.
“Say you’re mine, baby,” he coaxes, his voice a dangerous purr. “Or I’ll leave you like this—drippin’, needy, beggin’ for me to finish what I started.”
I shake my head and he smirks, grinding his hips against mine, letting me feel exactly how hard he is through his jeans.
I let out a frustrated groan, my fingers curling into fists. “Fuckin’—” I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood, then snap, “I’m yours, you arsehole. You happy now?”
His grin is triumphant, and then he’s back on me again, pulling sounds from me I didn’t know I was capable of making. My hands tangle in his hair, my nails scratching at his scalp as I give in completely, my body trembling under his touch.
“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen,” he says as he strokes my cock. “You gonna let me wreck you, baby? Gonna let me taste every fuckin’ drop?”
His grip on my cock tightens just enough to make me whimper and I don’t even have it in me to be embarrassed. Not when he’s looking at me like that—like I’m something he’s about to devour.
I let out a strangled noise, my chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. “Connor, please—”
He hums in satisfaction as I beg him, his tongue swirling around the head before he takes me in, his lips sealing around my cock like he’s been starving for it. My breath stutters, my back arching as he sinks lower.
Connor moans around me, the vibration shooting straight up my spine, making my toes curl. His hands grip my thighs, keeping me spread open as he starts to move, his tongue working over me, his pace slow, torturous.
“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he groans, pulling off just long enough to lick at the tip, his hand stroking me in slow, teasing movements. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever had. Could keep you in my mouth all night.”
He’s back on my cock again, but this time I feel the tip of his finger swirling around my rim. I immediately tense up, but he doesn’t push in at all. He just continues to suck the soul out of me and I’m losing it. The heat, the pressure, the way his hands grip my thighs, holding me down so I can’t do anything but take it—it’s too much, too fucking good.
“Close,” I gasp, my hips twitching despite his hold. “Connor, I—fuck, I’m—”
He pulls back with a filthy pop, his lips swollen, his eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. “You gonna come for me, baby?” he taunts, stroking me in the same fast motion as his mouth was on me. “Gonna give me what I want?”
“Fuck, yes,” I whimper, my head pressing back into the pillows. “Please, Connor—”
His smirk is pure sin before he leans down again, swallowing me whole, his throat tightening around me as he takes me to the back of his throat. I barely get out a broken moan before my body tenses, my orgasm slamming into me so hard I nearly black out.
Connor groans as I come, his hands gripping me tighter as he takes it all, milking every last drop out of me. I shudder, my body going limp beneath him, my fingers sliding from his hair to rest weakly on his shoulders.
He pulls off slowly, licking his lips, his gaze locking onto mine as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, crawling back up my body. He presses a slow, filthy kiss to my lips, claiming me without a shred of hesitation. I can taste myself on him, and it should disgust me, but it doesn’t. It just makes the fire in my chest burn hotter—makes me cling to him even tighter.
When he finally pulls away, his breath is warm against my lips, his smirk still firmly in place. “Taste that, Babyface?” he murmurs, his voice ruined. “Next time you deny yourself, I’m gonna punish you. And trust me, you’ll love every second of it. Still want to deny it?”
I shake my head, my chest heaving as I meet his gaze. “No,” I whisper, the word slipping out before I can stop it. “I can’t.”
“Good boy,” he praises me, his voice soft but dripping with satisfaction.
My body betrays me with those two words. Good boy.
A shiver runs through me, unbidden, and my hips twitch slightly as if I’m seeking something I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn with humiliation, and I clench my fists, furious at myself for the way I react to him, for the way my body wants more of what my brain knows I should hate.
But Connor notices. Of course, he does.
His green eyes gleam with mischief as his smirk widens. “Oh,” he drawls, “you like that, don’t you?”
I snap my head up, glaring at him. “Shut up,” I hiss, but my voice cracks, and I know I’ve already lost.
“Shut up?” he echoes, his grin twisting into something feral as his hand slides up to grip my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “Babyface, don’t think for a second you can hide from me. I felt that.”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie, it won’t end well for you,” he cuts me off. “I can see it all over your face.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, swallowing hard, but my silence only seems to egg him on.
“Do you want to hear it again?” he asks as his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. “You wanna know what a good boy you are for me?”
“I don’t,” I whisper, though the words feel hollow, even to me.
Connor chuckles low in his throat. “Liar,” he chuckles. “You’re a brat, but even brats want praise when they’ve been good.”
I grit my teeth, shaking my head, but he doesn’t let me go. His hands stay firm on my jaw, holding me in place, his gaze boring into mine like he can see every fucking thought in my head.
“Say it,” he demands again, his voice dropping to a growl. “Or I’ll make you beg for it.”
My breath catches, and I hate the way my body reacts to his words, the way my chest tightens and my pulse quickens like I’m waiting for him to prove he can. I try to glare at him, try to push him away again, but this is fucking Connor Cunningham.
“That’s what I thought,” he says. “Say it, Malachi. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
“I…” My voice falters, my pride warring with the undeniable ache building inside me. “I want it. I want to hear it.”
He looks so fucking proud of me, and my heart seems to soar at the fact that I did something to make him look at me like that. For once, he’s not teasing, not smirking, not trying to get under my skin just to piss me off. He looks… genuine.
“You’re so good for me,” he murmurs. There’s no smirk, no cockiness—just sincerity. “You know that, don’t you, sweet boy?”
A fresh shiver runs through me, and this time, I can’t blame it on the cold. It’s his voice, the way he says it, like he means it. Like I did something right.
I don’t understand why I want his praise. Why the second the words leave his mouth, warmth spreads through my chest, filling something I didn’t even know was empty.
It confuses the fuck out of me and the shame hits fast. I don’t know why, but it crawls up my throat and settles in my chest, threatening to choke me. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t feel like this.
Connor sees it instantly. The change in my expression, the way my breathing stutters, the way my body tenses under his hands.
He brushes his thumb lightly over my cheek. “Don’t do that,” he says, his tone gentler now, more patient than I ever expected him to be.
I frown. “Do what?”
“Look like you’re about to rip yourself apart for wanting somethin’.”
My breath catches, and I try to look away, but he doesn’t let me. His fingers tighten, just enough to keep me in place, to keep me here with him.
“What you’re feelin’ isn’t wrong, Malachi. And I sure as fuck won’t let you pretend it is.”
I want to argue. Tell him to fuck off. Tell him he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But I can’t. Because the way he’s looking at me—fuck, no one’s ever looked at me like that before. Like I’m worth something. Like I’m not something to be ashamed of.
His hands slide down to my waist, then he’s tugging my sweats back up, covering me, before pulling me against him.
I freeze. My body locks up completely, my hands hovering in the air like I don’t know what to do with them. “Relax,” he says softly, his lips brushing against my hair. “Just let me hold you, yeah?”
My breath shudders, my heart hammering in my chest. I should fight this. I should shove him away. But I don’t, because the second I let myself lean into him, the second I let go, it’s like something in me cracks open.
His warmth seeps into me, steady and grounding. His hands rub slow circles over my back, his touch gentle, and fuck, I don’t realize I’m shaking until I feel the tremors against his chest.
He presses his lips to the side of my head, whispering soft things I don’t quite catch, things meant to soothe. Things that work. “You’re okay. You’re safe with me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t—” I break off, my throat tightening. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Connor exhales softly, his grip on me never faltering. “There’s nothin’ wrong with you, mo stóirín, ” he murmurs, his voice warm. “Not a single fuckin’ thing.”
I let out a shaky breath, gripping his shirt tighter. “Then why do I feel like this?”
He shifts slightly, tucking me closer, and I hate how much my body melts against him despite every instinct screaming at me to fight. “Because this is new for you,” he says simply. “Because no one’s ever made you feel safe enough to let go.”
The words hit harder than they should, and I clench my jaw, swallowing past the lump in my throat. Connor tilts his head slightly, his lips brushing my temple. “I need you to be honest with me about somethin’, Malachi.”
I stiffen, but he doesn’t let me pull away. “Not gonna judge you,” he says, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Not gonna mock you. I just need the truth.”
His fingers skim my back, up to my nape, tilting my chin slightly so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. His green eyes are steady, watching me carefully, like he already knows what I’ll say but needs me to say it anyway.
“Are you a virgin?”