40. Blesk
CHAPTER FORTY
blesk
As soon as Konnor leaves for his morning run, his absence is palpable.
My skin still tingles from his touch. His sheets are warm and smell like him and me and sex, but my mind is already sorting through yesterday—the jealousy that clawed at my stomach when I heard about Faith, the way I couldn’t control my envy, the way he didn’t deserve it.
I picture him strategically showing some beautiful, experienced girl his dimples and feel sick.
And yet. Last night he drew pleasure from my body, loudly, unapologetically, and I have never felt more present.
Before Konnor, sex was something I endured—that my body survived—quietly and full of shame. I thought that because I was wet, I had undeniably enjoyed it, in some horrible way that breaks my heart. Now… I think my body was protecting me from pain.
Last night was nothing like that; it was reckless and raw, and for the first time, I felt like love, sex, and affection were things to be celebrated rather than hidden. I want to feel that again. I want to feel that with him, only him, which is exactly why the jealousy won’t leave me alone.
Faith.
Ugh.
I keep seeing her pretty face. His mouth finding hers. Him breathing something rough into her ear, something meant only for her, something dirty. Her body against his in the dark. Did she get the version of him I got last night? Did he stay close to her after or roll away?
Get over it, Blesk.
He wants you.
I roll to my back, letting my eyes move around his childhood bedroom, from the bookcase, to the signed All Blacks rugby jersey, to the trophies. This is where the Konnor Slater grew up. Where the Deakon Nerrock became a man. A very large, very dominant, and devious man…
Pulling my phone out from under my pillow, I unlock it and check my messages.
Elise: You okay after last night?
Elise was downstairs with me when Faith showed up uninvited, dolled-up and pretty—and probably completely undamaged on the inside.
I text back, knowing Elise’s phone is permanently connected to her hand.
Blesk: Yes, I overreacted. Did you sleep well?
Elise: OMG, so well, this bed is amazeballs. Cassidy kicked out that Faith whore. Don’t worry.
I sigh. Whore.
His whore.
I’m his whore.
A buzz of excitement curls my toes in tight, and I can’t stop my
fingers from running on the keypad what my mouth wants to say.
Blesk: Guess what I did last night.
Elise: The suspense is killing me.
Blesk: Guesssss...
Elise: You were hugging your phone again.
Blesk: Close but no… I had sex with Konnor last night.
Elise: How is that close? And OMG! Yay! How was it? I want all the details!
Blesk: Later... I’ll draw you a picture.
Elise: Thank God, because you know I’m more of a visual learner.
Konnor comes through the door still breathing hard, shorts riding his toned hips, a line of sweat tracking down the centre of his sculpted abdominals.
He stops when he sees me, his eyes tracing a hot line from my blushing cheeks to my chest. “Nice.”
“Nice?” I lower my phone, beaming at him. “Just nice?”
He laughs easily and sits on the edge of the bed. His fingers find the edge of the sheet and tugs it down to expose my breasts. His eyes blaze. “Tell Konnor what you’re thinking?” He leans down and kisses my nipple, chaste, adoringly.
I giggle, feeding my hands through his sweaty hair. He smells like man and clean sweat. “You sound like Elise when you talk like that.”
He laughs against my nipple, his tongue coming out as he murmurs, “Spill it, Duch.”
Then he licks.
I moan. “No, don’t wanna.”
My pulse gallops in my throat as he sucks gently on my nipple, his hand coming up to play with the other.
His groan reverberates through my chest. He flicks his tongue slowly at first, then a little faster.
The heat of his breath blankets me. I fist his hair tighter, moans escaping my lips, my body arching into him, wanting him closer, wanting him everywhere.
His lips trail upwards along my collarbone, pressing soft kisses to my skin until his mouth meets mine.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips. “I love your skin.” He kisses me again. “The way you smell.” He sucks on my lower lip. “The way you taste.” Then he kisses me deeper.
“I love you, Konnor,” I gasp between breathless, vision-blurring kisses.
He tears himself away, pressing his forehead to mine, eyes closed, breath laboured. “You don’t know what hearing that means to me.”
“Not your whore this morning?”
A dark chuckle leaves him. “Always my little whore, Duch. Also my Duchess. That isn’t going to change.”
“I love you, Konnor,” I say again. “I love you.” He makes a small sound of emotion, then kisses me hard, hungry and slow all at once.
My arms find their way around his neck. I pull him closer, and he lets me. He kisses me until we are breathless, pulling back to look at me with serious intent. “Now tell me what you were thinking about when I walked in.”
I let out a breath. “Last night.”
“What part?” His pupils dilate. “The part where you let me fuck you like a whore? Or the part where you begged?”
“Stop it.” Heat consumes my cheeks. “Whether you—” I stop and trail off. “It’s different for me, being with you, like that. It felt like we were connected.”
He raises a brow. “We were very much connected, Duch. I was deeply fucking connected to you.”
I roll my eyes. “Not just literally.”
He grins wider. Dimples form.
I shove him playfully. “Konnor, seriously, was it different for you? Being with me?”
His expression shifts from playful to serious. “Yes. God, yes. Nothing has ever felt that good.”
“How is it different?” I whisper, needing reassurance as pathetic as that is. I need it.
Will he understand?
Is his dream girl ruined?
He exhales, his gaze moving around the room as he thinks. I shouldn’t have asked. It was a silly thing to ask.
He looks at me again, intensity radiating from him. My breath hitches. “Every time I was with a girl, there was always something missing. An emptiness. The more I tried to fill it, the deeper it felt.”
He clears his throat. “Every girl I’ve been with has only made not having you more obvious. Yesterday was the first time I’ve ever wanted to whisper ‘you’re mine’ in someone’s ear. The first time I’ve wanted to say, ‘I’m yours.’ That’s the first time I’ve ever fucked someone I love, Duchess.”
I like his answer.
And I am his.
And he’s mine.
Sitting with Konnor on the porch, eating his signature waffles-with-cheese concoction, which, despite my initial reluctance, are actually delicious, gives me blissful insight into what a forever with him could look like.
Getting ahead of myself.
But… I sweep my eyes over the veranda. A big house surrounded by gardens. We would spend the weekends here, sitting and listening to the birds, Konnor reading the paper or a book while I watch the kids as they run around on the grass—
Wow.
Kids?
Elise and Jax are walking across the lawn, headed towards the court with tennis rackets in their hands. I'm not used to this kind of life. In the sun. In the open. Not locked away in my room, or with my head buried in a book.
Real life?
Social Blesk? Tick.
Konnor sits facing the garden, with his ankle resting on his knee, his arms spread over the back of the chair, relaxed.
He’s wearing a green tee-shirt that highlights his emerald eyes and a pair of black loose-fitting track-pants.
His hair is messy in the most delicious way.
He doesn’t look like little Deakon right now.
He looks content and free. There are no shackles on this boy. No restraints.
A door behind us opens.
Konnor twists in his chair to look at the French doors. “Dad.” Standing, he embraces the older man, firmly tapping him on the back. “Come meet someone.”
“Nice to see you, son.” The man smiles at me over Konnor’s shoulder. Should I stand to be polite? I dab my lips for coffee residue, but I know there is none.
“Hello,” I manage.
Konnor releases his dad and turns towards me. "This is Blesk. She’s—“ He pauses, then smiles. "My girl."
"Blesk, it's a pleasure. I’m Ben.” Turning back to his son, he adds, "Now, what are you doing up this way?” He sits in Konnor’s chair. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you.”
Ben has a fit figure, unlike my dad, but there are more wrinkles around his eyes. Perhaps he is a little older. He has salt-and-pepper hair, is freshly shaven, and has the same hazel-coloured eyes as Cassidy.
Picking up Konnor’s fork, Ben tucks into the waffles on his son’s plate. “I’ve missed your cheese waffles.”
Konnor laughs. “They’re killer, hey?”
Chewing the maple and cheese creation, Ben looks at me. “What did you think of them?”
I chuckle and cross my legs under the table. “Well, they are really nice, but...” I laugh.
“Go on,” he urges.
“In a weird way.”
“Yeah, well…” Konnor pauses, then looks at me. “An old friend of mine used to put sweetcorn in with mac-and-cheese, so there is just something about sweet and salty that I’ve always liked.”
My mouth drops open.
He remembers?
“I didn’t know that was the reason,” Ben says, chewing. “I always thought it was just a happy mistake and that you were trying to sabotage breakfast again.”
Konnor grabs another chair, pulling it over to the edge of the round table and sitting between us. “Come on, that doesn’t sound like something I would do.”
Ben takes a sip of his son’s orange juice, and I smile at that. At that ease and familiarity. “Don’t lie to the poor girl. Konnor was always trying to prank us growing up.”
“Really?” My heart swells. I arch a brow at Konnor. He smiles. It’s strange hearing about his life from someone I don’t know as I was the only one in it for so long. I’m new to his family, to this life. And yet, not new at all.
Ben nods, bumping Konnor with his elbow. “Yep. He went around dyeing everything green for a week—"
“She doesn’t need to hear this.”
“Hush, son, your old man is telling a story. I woke up one morning with green hair and my work shirt was green.” He laughs. “Even the damn tap water was green.”