Chapter Five #2
“I’m going to kiss you, Arianna,” he rasps, his mouth finding mine in the softest of kisses that works to light a fire in my veins.
His mouth moves down my chin in a whisper of a kiss, not fully touching my skin.
“Then I plan on licking your tits until they’re wet and your nipples swollen.
” I suck in a sharp breath when I feel a hand slide under my T-shirt, jolting when his fingers feather over my stomach.
“And when you’re trembling, I’ll worship your tight little pussy, lick your clit, and get you all hot and ready for my cock.
” I whimper when his mouth pushes up against my ear. “How’s that for a plan?”
“O-okay,” I stammer, out of my depth. My mind too, but he doesn’t let me overthink anything as his mouth takes mine in a long kiss that has my toes curling with pleasure.
I’m nudged onto my back, his warm body covering mine, making me feel safe and warm.
My hands find his shoulders, and I grip them, whining as he deepens the kiss, his tongue engaging mine in a sensual dance.
I feel his heart beat against mine, just as fast.
“Conor,” I whimper into the kiss when he slides a hand down over my butt, kneading it in his massive palm.
“I love the way you say my name, a rún,” he rasps, his mouth moving down the side of my neck.
I moan aloud when his mouth sucks on the sensitive skin, bruising me.
“So goddamned sexy!” He scrapes me with his teeth and makes my core flood with arousal.
His breath is hot against my skin, and I’m practically shaking as he moves lower.
My back arches off the bed when his mouth closes around my nipple, sucking it through the shirt. “I love the way you react to my touch.”
My breath saws in and out of my throat as he moves to tease my nipples through the thin material, suckling on them until my shirt is wet and I’m a trembling mess, sobbing for relief from the fire burning between my legs. “Oh God!”
“Just me, baby,” he rasps, shoving my shirt up and making me whimper when his lips touch my stomach, feathery soft. I jolt hard when his tongue presses against my belly button, licking around the spot before moving down…
And I know what to expect. We shared this exact dance in that hotel room back in Chicago.
I know what to expect when he tugs down my shorts to reveal my naked body.
I figure I know what it’ll feel like when he nudges my thighs open before bringing my left knee to his shoulder and exposing me further.
And yet…
Nothing prepares me for the storm of pleasure that shoots through my spine when he rakes his tongue between my folds, from top to bottom.
I sob, back lifting off the small bed, but he presses me back down, hand gripping my thigh tight as his tongue finds my swollen clit, batting it with the tip of his tongue.
Moisture floods my pussy as he continues his onslaught against my aching bud, pressure building in my core with the promise of release.
It’s insane. The things he’s doing to me. Things no bodyguard ever should, and yet, I can’t stop wanting more.
“Conor,” I sob, fingers grabbing his hair and pulling him hard against me, greedy for that sweet release. For the explosion of relief from the torture brought about by those calloused hands and that sinful mouth.
Please. Please.
“I can’t get enough of you, baby,” he growls, sliding his left hand up my stomach and under my shirt. I jolt on the bed when he starts kneading my nipples even as he starts focusing on my entrance.
“More,” I whimper, fingers twisting in his hair and tugging hard, rocking my hips back and forth and riding his face. I’m mad with the need for release as I work my hips faster against his hungry mouth. “Conor…more, please.” Please.
His lips suction over my clit, tugging hard and that trips me right into an orgasm I wasn’t bracing for. It takes me by surprise, forcing a scream out of me. I cry out, clenching hard against his tongue as waves and waves of pleasure roll through my body, leaving me helpless.
“Again!” he growls, fingers digging into my skin as he laps at my sensitive flesh, nudging his tongue against my entrance before moving to tease my clit, making me whimper.
“I can’t,” I sob, dropping my hand from his head to fist the bedsheets. “I can’t, Conor.”
“I’ll help you, baby,” he rasps, gripping my hips tighter and burying his head deeper into my pussy.
My back arches off the bed with a cry when he slides his tongue into me, groaning deeply as I adjust to the foreign feeling.
He starts the fire again, bringing his index finger to my circle my clit, fanning the flames until I’m shaking with the threat of another orgasm.
“Conor,” I sob, thrashing on the bed, sensitive from head to toe. “Too much!”
But it doesn’t seem enough for him as he worships me, and when I orgasm this time, the earth moves from underneath me.
The climax bursts out of me with such vengeance that it shoots white light behind my eyelids.
I sob, thrashing on the bed as Conor sucks at my swollen clit.
My pussy clenches tightly and releases, repeating the motion over and over again until I can’t take it anymore.
When Conor finally pulls away, there is a dangerous gleam in his eyes that should scare me. The way he watches—it’s something akin to what a predator does in the wild—and yet, I find myself hypnotized.
I watch him, dazed, as Conor strips out of his boxers. His length is thick and hard, with an angry red crown. I’m still not sure how something that big is supposed to fit inside of me, but I find myself parting my legs as he settles between them.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Arianna,” Conor rasps, his mouth finding mine in a deep kiss, whining when I taste myself on his lips and tongue. “I want to hide you from the world, keep you as my little secret. My precious little treasure. A rún.”
“Oh!” I whimper, grabbing his shoulders when I feel the hard press of his cock rubbing against my opening.
“I’ll be gentle, baby,” he rasps, his eyes meeting mine knowingly as I flush. Does he know? How could he know? Christ, I was hoping to get through this without having to admit out loud that I am a virgin.
“I don’t need gentle,” I say stubbornly.
"Oh, but you do, baby,” he rasps, his mouth brushing intimately over mine. “A man like myself can’t help but treat a gem like you with anything but care.”
“I don’t…oh!” I gasp when he inches into me, and heavens above, he feels so huge, stretching me.
My fingers tighten on his shoulders, feeling incredibly vulnerable as he slides deeper into me, confused about how the heck this is supposed to feel good.
There are so many of us on planet earth, and sex always seems to be the topic of conversations.
If it’s so popular, then how is it supposed to feel? Is it supposed to be pleasurable?
“Look at me,” Conor orders, his voice penetrating through the chaos in my head and forcing my gaze to his. “Don’t think. Just look at me.”
“Okay,” I whisper, pushing down the panic to focus on the man I’ve shared the last couple of days with. Maybe I was mistaken about him, disliked him over a single interaction when he’s shown he’s not that kind of guy. He’s protected me, treated me with care, and made me feel beautiful…
Jesus Christ, I’m in love with Conor O’Shea.
The thought is quickly pushed from my mind when the man in question dips his head and closes his mouth hotly over my sensitive nipple, forcing a rush of moisture between my legs. “Oh,” I whimper, sliding a hand to his nape as pleasure shoots through me.
Conor starts thrusting shallowly into me, making me arch into his touch. Each thrust sends him deeper into me. “Oh God, Conor!” I cry out when he sucks harder on my nipple, making my back arch on the bed. When his lips find mine again, I’m trembling, sobbing, and arching into him.
“So beautiful,” he rasps, kissing my mouth and cheek, his lips moving to my neck. “You’re mine, a rún!”
“Conor!” I cry out when he slams forward, through the thin veil of my innocence and fills me completely. I clench hard around him as pain and pleasure shoot through me. The pain fades to a dull throb, and despite my initial conflict, I realize that I want more.
“Are you okay, baby?” Conor asks hoarsely, his voice filled with concern as is his expression when he pulls back to look at me. I can tell he’s holding back, pushing down his own instincts for me, and it makes my heart soar with affection.
I love him.
“I’m fine,” I whisper, meeting his heated gaze with one of my own. “Please don’t stop. Take me, Conor. Please.”
Make me yours.
“I’m not stopping, baby,” he rasps, hands gripping my hips as he starts moving, grinding slowly into me. “You’re so fucking tight. It’s taking everything in me not to come.” His voice is strained as are his muscles as he moves in and out of me—gently. Carefully.
I love him.
Afraid he’ll read the emotions on my face, I pull him down and bury my face in his throat, feeling the fast beat of his heart as his pace increases with each thrust into me.
I didn’t think I’d like it, but the friction sets a fresh wave of fire inside of me, and I start moaning and mewling, clawing at his shoulder as pleasure rushes through me.
“Oh God,” I cry into his shoulder, arching my hips to meet his thrusts until we find a rhythm.
“Good?”
“Yeah,” I whimper, hugging him tighter as his movements grow fevered and his breathing becomes broken. Conor grips my hips and drives into me with such hunger that it feeds my own need. I make a strangled sound as his body slaps against me, his cock seeming to thicken with every thrust.
“I’m not going to last much longer, baby,” he pants into my neck before dropping his left hand between us. I cry out when he strums my clit, sending sharp bites of heat through my core, pulling me closer to yet another orgasm. His breathing grows ragged, his thrust turning jerky.
“Fuck…fuuuck!” he growls as he pumps his cock into me, faster, harder. Then he goes still above me, muscles tense and strained. I feel the flood of his cum just as my own climax blinds me. I claw his back as my pussy clenches hard around his cock.
Conor comes with a bellow, gripping me tight as he pounds into me, burying himself deeper with each pulse.
Making me his.
“Conor,” I sob at the intense feeling, our flushed skin moving smoothly against each other through the aftermath of our orgasms, my name on his lips as he comes apart.
Mine.
The word floats through my head even after Conor has collapsed on top of me.
It’s dangerous that I’ve allowed myself to want this man beyond the physical.
But then he starts kissing my neck and face, pushing back to study me with that concerned look in his eyes…
I find myself falling even deeper for him.
An hour later, when we’ve both cleaned up and are cuddled together, I find myself wondering what the heck I’m going to do now since I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with Conor.
I turn toward him, taking in his rugged features in the dark.
The man looks so goddamned handsome even asleep.
Is it a wonder that I find myself attracted to him?
Enjoy the moment and stop overthinking.
I can almost hear my sister’s exasperated voice in my ear.
Except I’m usually the one trying to pull her out of her mind.
I smile at that and nuzzle into Conor, whose arms tighten around me.
This time, I don’t let my mind wander. I’m about to fall asleep when my phone vibrates.
I grab it quickly before it can wake Conor, intent on turning it to mute, when I see that the notification is from that same private number.
I open the message, and when I see another picture, I feel a chill run down my spine.
The picture is of me and Conor looking up at a mural on the side of the Corn Palace.
The longer I stare at it, the more I realize that this person isn’t just following us but seems to know my itinerary.
The thought alone is enough to send fear coursing through me.
I shut down my phone and turn to Conor, burrowing into his arms. The only place that makes me feel safe.
I realize that I’ll have to tell him about this stalker fan, even if it ruins the trip.
I’ll always stand between you and danger, a rún.
As if sensing my tension, Conor’s arms tighten even more around me, his warmth surrounding me and dragging me under into a fitful slumber.