34. Connor
Chapter 34
Connor
I’ve never been one for sentimentality. Gifts, romance, grand fucking gestures—they’ve never been my thing.
Tomorrow, I leave for Romania, and I should be thinking about that, but all I can think about is him. The bratty redhead I’m pulling into my bedroom.
He said it himself—that we’re nothing outside of his room. That whatever this is between us doesn’t exist beyond those fucking bars and it stuck with me. I don’t want him to feel like a secret even though that’s what we are right now.
The house is quiet—empty except for us. My parents took Cat to Dmitri’s estate for the holidays, giving me the perfect opportunity to have Malachi in my space.
When we get to my room, I shove the door open, pull him inside, and lock it behind us. Malachi glances around, his expression guarded. “So, what? You gonna chain me to the bed now?”
I snort, grabbing his wrist and tugging him toward the small table where I’ve set up dinner. “Not tonight.”
His gaze flicks down to the plates of food—still warm and fresh. He blinks. “You… made me dinner?”
I shrug, grabbing his wrist and pushing him into the chair. “Figured if I’m leavin’ tomorrow, I should spend the night with my favorite hostage.”
He rolls his eyes but picks up his fork anyway. “You’re such a dick.”
I grin, dropping into the chair across from him. “Aye, but I’m yours.”
He doesn’t respond, but his lips twitch slightly, and I call that a win.
Malachi glances at the plates, then at me, suspicion flickering in his blue eyes. “What’s your angle?”
“No angle. It’s Christmas Eve. You’ve been locked in that room for too long, and I wanted to have dinner with you. That a crime now?”
He watches me for another long moment, then sighs as if I’m so impossible. “Fine,” he mutters, reaching for his fork.
I smirk, but I don’t push him. I just watch as he takes his first bite, waiting for his reaction.
His brows lift slightly, and I swear, it looks like he enjoys it before he schools his expression into something more neutral. “Not bad,” he mutters, but the way he keeps eating tells me more than his words ever could.
We eat in comfortable silence for a while, the tension easing with every bite, with every glance we exchange. It’s fucking nice. Normal.
After dinner, I sit back in my chair, watching him, memorizing every little movement, every flicker of emotion that crosses his face. I don’t want to leave tomorrow. I have to; I think we both need some distance and I need to talk to Mihai.
I reach into my pocket, fingers curling around the small box. My chest tightens slightly at what’s inside. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should wait.
But I’m a possessive bastard, so I won’t.
“Got somethin’ for you.”
Malachi blinks, caught off guard. “What?”
I smirk, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the small velvet box. “Christmas present.”
His whole body freezes. “You got me a present?”
I set the box on the table between us, nudging it toward him. “Merry Christmas, Babyface.”
His lips part slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. He just flips the box open, revealing the Claddagh ring inside, gleaming silver under the dim bedroom light. It’s simple, but there’s meaning in every detail—the heart at the center, the hands cradling it, the crown perched on top.
Malachi’s breath catches. His eyes widen slightly, his fingers curling around the box like he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself. “Connor…”
“Don’t freak out,” I say, keeping my tone light. “It’s just a ring.”
His gaze snaps to mine, blue eyes glistening. “It’s not just a ring and you know it.”
I smirk, because he’s right. It’s not. He knows exactly what it fucking means. It’s an Irish thing, something we grow up knowing, something passed down through generations.
Love. Loyalty. Friendship.
The heart represents love, the hands mean friendship, and the crown stands for loyalty. A symbol of devotion, of something real.
The way a person wears it tells the world everything they need to know. If the heart points outward, toward the fingertips, it means the wearer is open—single, available, waiting for something or someone to claim them.
But if the heart points inward, toward the wrist, it means they belong to someone.
“CM,” he mutters, his voice hoarse as he lifts the ring, turning it to see our initials engraved on the inside. I watch him closely, waiting, my chest tight with anticipation and he knows why. Then he swallows hard, sliding the ring onto his finger—
Heart facing inward.
My own fucking heart stutters and my fingers twitch, something dark and possessive curling in my chest as I register what he’s just done. I don’t say anything at first. I just watch him, watch the way his fingers flex, watch the way his breathing changes, watch the way his blue eyes flicker up to meet mine.
I exhale slowly, the corner of my mouth twitching. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
Malachi swallows again, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “Aye.”
His heart is taken.
By me.
I reach out, grabbing his wrist and tracing my fingers over the ring, over the cool metal wrapped around his finger. My voice drops, low and rough. “Say it.”
Malachi’s breath shudders slightly, but he doesn’t fucking run. “It means my heart belongs to you,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.
Fuck.
Fucking hell. The confession fucking wrecks me.
I tilt my head, watching him. “You sure about that?”
Malachi doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
I groan, yanking him forward, crashing my lips against his. It’s not desperate. It’s not messy. It’s intentional. It’s me claiming him, branding him, making sure he fucking knows exactly what he’s just given me.
His hands slide up my arms, his fingers digging into my shoulders, clutching at me like he needs to hold on. Like he wants this, and fuck, that’s all I need to lose myself in him.
I deepen the kiss, drinking him in, tasting him, feeling him melt into me with every second that passes.
My hands slide to his waist, pulling him onto my lap and pressing our bodies flush together. He exhales shakily, but he doesn’t hesitate. He lets me have him.
And when I break the kiss to look at him, to give him one last chance to back out, he meets my gaze without a single fucking ounce of doubt. Malachi leans in, and when our lips meet again, it’s slow, deep, and unrushed.
No teasing, no power plays—just us.
He melts into me, his fingers sliding up to tangle in my hair, his breaths coming quicker. I wrap my arms around him and get to my feet, guiding him to my bed and onto his back.
Malachi exhales against my lips, his hands tightening in my hair, his body arching slightly beneath mine. “I want this,” he whispers. “I want you, Connor.”
I groan softly, resting my forehead against his, my hand cradling the side of his face. “Are you sure?”
He nods, his blue eyes burning. “Yes.”
And fuck—who am I to deny him anything?
I exhale slowly, keeping my forehead against his, making sure he knows he has all the time in the world to change his mind. His fingers curl around the back of my neck, his breath shallow but steady as he stares up at me with those wild, blue eyes.
He’s fucking sure.
Malachi shivers. “Connor—”
“I got you, baby,” I promise, pressing my lips to his jaw, his throat, down to the collar of his sweater. “I got you.”
His lips are soft, hesitant at first, but when I drag my tongue against his bottom lip, he opens up for me, letting me taste him. Letting me take him. I kiss him, slow and deep, letting him feel everything I’m about to give him.
I pull back just enough to tug his sweater and then his shirt over his head, and he lets me, his breath catching as I drink him in.
“Look at you,” I murmur, running my palms over his chest, my thumbs brushing his ribs. All smooth pale skin, faint freckles dusting his collarbones, and the softest little trail of red hair leading down beneath the waistband of his jeans.
I want to worship every inch of him.
His cheeks flush, his hands gripping my biceps like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “You’re staring.”
“Because you’re so fucking beautiful,” I say, my fingers tracing down his side, memorizing every dip, every fucking ridge. “My beautiful boy.”
Malachi swallows hard, his eyes flickering with uncertainty like he’s not sure if he believes me. But I’ll prove it to him. I’ll fucking show him.
I run my hands down his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath my palms. “You okay?”
He nods and bites his bottom lip. “I—I don’t really know what to do.”
His voice is so fucking small, and it does something to me—something dark, something protective, something that makes me want to wreck him and worship him all at once.
“You don’t have to do anythin’,” I say against his lips. “Just let me take care of you.”
His breath stutters, his fingers fisting in the front of my shirt. “Okay.”
That’s all I need.
I press kisses along his collarbone, trailing down to his chest, and the way he gasps when I flick my tongue over his nipple makes my cock twitch. I groan, sucking it into my mouth, loving the way his fingers tighten in my hair, his hips shifting like he’s already chasing friction.
He sucks in a breath, his back arching as I tease him, my tongue swirling over the sensitive peak before switching to the other side.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I murmur against his skin, dragging my teeth along his ribs as I move lower.
He nods, his breath catching. “Yeah.”
I smirk against his stomach, my hands tracing his sides as I hook my fingers into the waistband of his jeans. “Gonna let me take these off?”
His hips lift in silent permission, his cheeks burning, but he doesn’t look away. I pop the button, drag the zipper down, and peel them off along with his boxers, freeing him completely, and groan at the sight of him.
Flushed and leaking, his cock twitches under my gaze. I stroke him slowly, watching the way his body jerks, the way his lips part on a broken little moan.
“Fuck, look at this pretty cock,” I groan, swiping my thumb over the tip. “Dyin’ to have you in my mouth again, baby.”
“Connor,” he breathes, his fingers tangling in the sheets. “Please.”
I grin, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his hip, my hand working him in slow, teasing strokes. “Please what, Babyface?”
His breath hitches, and he glares at me through heavy lashes. “Please stop teasing me.”
I chuckle, but I don’t keep him waiting. Pulling off my shirt, I move down and lower my mouth to him, letting my tongue drag along the underside of his cock, feeling the way he twitches beneath me.
“Oh, God,” he gasps, his back arching, his hands flying to my hair, tugging hard.
I groan around him, the vibrations making him whimper, and I pull back just enough to watch him. His chest is heaving, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted and kiss-swollen.
“You’re too fucking good at that,” he pants.
I smirk, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock before focusing on his nipples again. “Just wait, baby.”
His breath stutters and he opens his mouth—probably to argue—but I shut him up with my teeth, biting just enough to make him gasp. His body trembles, and I smirk, sliding lower, kissing down the center of his chest, over his stomach, nipping at the sharp lines of his hips.
He groans, tipping his head back against the pillows, his hands fisting in the sheets. “You talk too much.”
“You love when I talk,” I murmur, dragging my lips up his thigh, sucking a mark into the soft skin. He whimpers, his hips twitching, and I grin against his leg. “So sensitive, baby. I could make you come just like this.”
“Connor,” he whines, his fingers digging into the sheets.
I press another kiss to his hip before pulling back. “Relax, Babyface. I’m gonna take care of you.”
I kiss him again, deep and slow, letting him feel every ounce of restraint I’m clinging to. My hands roam his body, gripping his waist, sliding down to cup his arse and pulling him closer.
He gasps into my mouth, his nails scraping against my shoulders, his body arching into mine like he’s already learned exactly how to drive me insane.
I sit up and remove my jeans and boxers, then I reach into my nightstand to grab the lube and a condom. When I look back at him, he’s watching me with so much trust in those blue eyes, that my heart fucking stutters.
“You sure about this?” I ask one last time as I settle in between his legs again.
“Yes,” he whispers.
I press a lingering kiss to his lips and lean back to slick up my fingers. My free hand grips his thigh as I tease the rim of his hole, making him shiver and a blush covers his cheeks.
“Breathe for me, beautiful,” I say against his lips as I press one finger inside, slow and careful.
His breath stutters, his body tensing for a second before he exhales, forcing himself to relax. “Feels… weird.”
I chuckle softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. “That’s ‘cause you’re tight, baby. I need to open you up first.”
His cheeks flush, but he nods, his thighs trembling slightly as I work him open, loving the way he’s gasping for me.
I take my time, curling my finger inside him, feeling the way his body adjusts to the stretch. His breath hitches, his fingers twisting in the sheets, but he doesn’t tell me to stop. He takes it, just like I knew he would.
“That’s it,” I murmur, pressing another kiss to his jaw. “You’re doin’ so good for me.”
His cheeks are burning now, his blue eyes hazy as they flicker up to meet mine. “Connor,” he breathes, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “More.”
I smirk, sliding another finger in, watching his lips part around a soft gasp. “Needy little thing, aren’t you?” I tease, twisting my fingers slightly, just to hear him whimper.
He shudders beneath me, his hands reaching for my shoulders, his grip tight like he’s barely holding on. His lashes flutter, his lips parting as I push deeper, rubbing against that spot that makes him cry out.
“There it is,” I grin, scissoring him open and working him slowly, taking my time.
“F-fuck,” he gasps, his back arching and head tilting back against the pillow. “Feels—feels so good.”
I pull my fingers out, slicking up a third before pressing back in, watching as his pretty pink lips part on a sharp inhale.
By the time I brush against that perfect little spot inside him again, he’s wrecked, his chest rising and falling in sharp, quick breaths, his hands clutching at me desperately.
“Connor—”
“You’re takin’ me so well, baby,” I groan, watching the way his thighs tremble and his cock twitches against his stomach. “This pretty little hole is gonna squeeze me so good.”
His nails dig into my skin, his breath coming in desperate little pants as I stretch him open, preparing him for me. “Connor, please,” he gasps, his voice raw. “I—I need you.”
I lean down, licking a hot stripe up the column of his throat before sucking a mark into the soft skin beneath his jaw. “You ready for me?” I rasp, my fingers fucking into him slow and deep.
“Yes,” he whimpers, rocking his hips against my hand. “I want to feel you.”
Fuck, I nearly come apart right there.
I tear open the condom, rolling it on quickly before slicking myself up, and when I look down at him, he’s watching me with so much trust it nearly knocks the air from my lungs.
“Breathe for me,” I whisper, pressing the head of my cock against his hole, my hand stroking up his thigh as I start to push in.
His breath stutters, his nails biting into my shoulders, and I force myself to go slow, to let him feel every inch. His body tightens around me, hot and perfect, and I groan, my forehead dropping to his.
He gasps, his legs tightening around me, his fingers shaking as they slide into my hair. “I’ve got you,” I say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as I push in deeper, stretching him open, making sure he feels every fucking inch.
His whole body shudders beneath me, his nails scraping down my back, and when I bottom out, I have to grit my teeth to keep from losing it right then and there.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” I groan, dragging my lips down his neck. “Takin’ me so good, baby. Look at you—already clenching around me like you need me.”
“I do need you,” he pants, his lashes fluttering as he blinks up at me, his lips swollen and wet. “Move, please.”
I pull back slowly before snapping my hips forward, dragging a choked moan from his throat. “Yeah?” I mutter, thrusting again. “That what you needed, baby?”
“Y-yes,” he gasps, his head tilting back as he rocks his hips against mine. “Please, more!”
“Fuck,” I groan as I start to move, slow, deep thrusts that have him gasping. I pick up the pace, my grip on his hips tightening as I fuck into him, watching as he comes undone beneath me.
I angle my hips to hit that spot again, and he cries out, his head tipping back. His nails dig into my back, his moans getting louder, needier. “God, you feel—fuckin’ amazing,” I say as my lips trace the curve of his jaw. “Fallin’ apart for me. Lettin’ me have you.”
His breath catches, his fingers digging into my back as he clings to me, and his moans turning desperate. “Connor, I’m—”
His words cut off in a strangled moan as I wrap a hand around his cock, stroking him in time with my thrusts. “I know,” I say, my thrusts quickening as I feel him clench around me. “Let me feel you, beautiful. Come for me.”
He gasps, his back arching and his whole body going tight before his release spills between us. The sight of him—completely fucking wrecked, completely mine—pushes me over the edge.
“Malachi,” I moan his name when my own release hits me hard; my hips stutter as I bury myself deep, groaning into his neck as I fall apart.
For a moment, the only sound in the room is our ragged breathing, our bodies still tangled together. I press soft kisses to his jaw, his temple, his lips, my hand cupping his cheek.
“You okay?” I murmur, brushing his hair back.
He nods, his blue eyes hazy and satisfied. “Yeah,” he whispers. “More than okay.”
I chuckle and slowly pull out of him, my heart squeezing when I see the way he winces. Then I get to my feet and walk to my bathroom where I get rid of the condom and warm two washcloths; one to clean myself and one for Malachi.
After cleaning up, I head out and do the same to him, loving the blissed-out look on his face. Then I discard the cloths in the hamper and join him on the bed, pulling him against me, my arms wrapping around him.
“You did so well,” I murmur, kissing his forehead. “You know this means you’re mine now, Babyface.”
His fingers curl against my chest, his lips twitching. “I already was.”
And fuck, I know I’m completely ruined for him.