4. Connor
CHAPTER 4
CONNOR
I wake in the dark to a warm body pressed against me. Teagan’s migrated across the tent floor in her sleep, her body seeking heat like a flower turning toward the sun.
Her ass fits snug against my hips, all soft heat and restless motion, even in sleep. But now— Christ —she arches her lower back, grinding into me with a breathy sigh that shoots straight to my cock.
Fuck.
Rain still patters softly on the tent, but the violent storm has passed. I should move away. Give her space. That’s what a gentleman would do.
But I’m no gentleman.
Instead, I inhale that lavender scent of her hair.
I start to shift away, but she murmurs something unintelligible. My hands splays wider across her stomach, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing beneath my sweatshirt—the one she’s still wearing, the fabric bunched up to reveal her bare skin above my pajama bottoms.
She’s gonna wake up and think I’m a total creep.
I’m painfully hard, and there’s no hiding how much I want her. And I do want her. Not just physically—but all of her. The fiery opinions, the passion for her work, the stubborn determination to protect what she loves. Even when she’s calling me an ecological disaster.
“Connor?” Her voice husky with sleep, makes my cock jump.
"Sorry," I whisper, starting to pull away. "You rolled over in your sleep. I was just?—"
"Don't." Her hand tightens on mine, keeping me in place. "Don't move."
“Teagan,” I rasp, my lips grazing the damp hair at the nape of her neck.
She turns in my arms, her face inches from mine now, those green eyes luminous in the dim light. "I'm sorry about earlier," she says, voice soft. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions about you."
Her sincerity floors me. I'd expected awkwardness, maybe anger at finding herself in my arms. Not this vulnerable honesty that cuts straight through my defenses.
"I'm sorry too," I murmur, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. "For the 'city girl' comment. You clearly know your stuff."
Her lips curve into a smile. "So we're both assholes."
"Seems like it." I grin, then grow serious. "Look, Teagan, I should probably move back to my side before?—"
“You’re hard.” She interrupts, with a shiver.
“Yeah.” I stroke her hip with my thumb.
And she rocks forward against my cock and whimpers .
Every shred of my self-control snaps.
I pin her onto her back, caging her beneath me. Her pupils swallow the storm-gray dawn, lips parted as her chest heaves. The smell of her—sweat and rainwater and sweet, aching want—makes me lightheaded.
“You gotta tell me to stop,” I growl. “Now. Or I swear to god?—”
Her fingers knot in my beard, dragging my mouth to hers.
The kiss ignites like a raging wildfire. Her lips are clumsy, desperate. She’s all slick tongue and shaking breaths as she thrusts her fists into my hair. I let her take what she needs, my hands braced on either side of her head, until she whines and nips my lower lip.
Gentle. Go slow. Don’t rush with her. I pull back just enough to see her face. “Teagan.”
She freezes, panic flickering. “D-don’t stop. I’m not fragile?—”
“Shh.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “Just need to know you’re sure.”
Her fingers trail down my neck. “I’ve never… done this. But I want to. I want you .”
“You’ve never?” This beautiful creature is a virgin?
She shakes her head and a sudden possessive jolt takes hold of me.
“Then let me show you.” I peel off my sweat-dampened thermal in one move. Her gaze across rakes my chest—with a look so hungry it nearly knocks me over. “Touch me.”
Her palms skate up my stomach, fingertips catching on my scar. When she grazes a nipple, my hips jerk.
“Mmm… I like that.” I grind the words into her neck, sucking gently. Her legs clamp around my waist.
Fuck.
My hands slip under the sweatshirt, skimming her ribcage to cup her tits: handfuls of creamy velvet, with peaked rose tips, more gorgeous than any fantasy I’ve had. Her nipples harden against my touch and I lower my mouth to one, swirling my tongue until she arches off the ground.
“Oh!” Her nails score my shoulders. “ Connor ? —! ”
“Use those pretty words, baby girl,” I bite her shoulder, hating how wrecked my voice sounds.
She pants. “Your mouth— there —yes!”
I map every freckle, every gasp, trailing lower. Her stomach quivers under my lips. When I pull the lounge pants and her panties down her thighs, she makes a noise that’ll haunt my dreams.
“Look at you,” I choke out. She’s glistening, flushed, spread open like gossamer butterfly wings. “Goddamn masterpiece.”
She covers her face. “You don’t h-have to?—”
“I need to taste you.” I press a kiss to her inner thigh and her hips buck. “Let me?”
She gives me a jerky nod.
I drag my tongue through her folds. Sweet. So fucking sweet.
Her thighs clamp around my ears, muffling her broken cries as I work her with my mouth, savoring every twitch, every tremor. She’s close—I can feel it.
Then she tugs at my hair, her entire body tensing.
“Wait— wait —I’m going to?—”
“Let go, baby.” I tease and suck her clit gently. “I’ve got you.”
She shatters with a sob, back bowing, trembling as I ride out her climax.
Once she’s quiet, I move back up and collapse beside her, cradling her against my chest. She nuzzles my throat, dazed and boneless.
“That…” She swallows. “That was…”
“The first course.” I kiss her temple, my cock throbbing against her hip. “Still with me?”
Her hand slips between us, palming me through my boxers. Lightning zooms up my spine.
“Teagan—”
“I want all of you.” Her gaze locks on mine, fierce and bright. “No holding back.”
I fumble for the condoms I keep in my pack, hands shaking. When I find one and roll it on, her fingers brush mine.
“Look at me,” I whisper, nudging her legs wider. “Always look at me.”
She nods, green eyes wide.
I press in slow— so goddamn slow —sweat dripping off my brow. She’s tight, impossibly tight, her walls clenching as she whimpers.
“Okay?” I grit out.
“Y-yes. More— please ?—”
I push forward until bottom out, pressing kisses to her cheeks, lips, and chin.
She takes a big breath.
“Move,” she whispers.
I do.
Each thrust unravels me—her keening cries, the way her ankles dig into my ass, her nails raking my back. She meets me stroke for stroke, hungry and frantic, until her walls clamp down hard.
“Connor! I’m—I can’t?—”
“You can, baby. You can do it all,” I pump harder.
Then she screams, back arching, as her climax rips through us both. “Yes…Connor…!”
I follow, spilling with a groan that tears from somewhere deep and primal.
We flop in a heap, lungs heaving. Her fingers trace the scratches she left on my shoulder.
“Sorry,” she mumbles.
“Don’t be.” I kiss her swollen lips. “I like knowing I’ve been marked by you.”
She smirks and tucks herself under my chin. Outside, the rain’s stopped.
Within moments I hear her breathing even out as sleep claims her.
I pull the sleeping bag over us for warmth, adjusting her against me.
She’s nineteen years younger, stubborn as hell, and completely at odds with everything I thought I wanted. Yet somehow, in this small tent in the middle of a forest we both love for different reasons, she's become essential.
As sleep finally claims me, I tighten my arms around her, a silent promise to protect not just her, but the world she's fighting so hard to save.
Nearby, that damn woodpecker drums its approval.