Chapter Twenty-One #2
He slid his finger lower, gathering more slick, then circled my clit again, a little firmer this time. My breath caught, thighs tensing as pleasure sparked and spread. He watched me, eyes dark and hungry, his free hand still gripping my hip, holding me in place .
“You’re such a good girl, letting me make you feel good.”
He never stopped talking, his words a steady, filthy stream as he worked me with just that one finger, coaxing me higher with every pass.
The pleasure built fast, hot and strong, his finger rubbing my clit with lazy precision. I whimpered, my head falling back, but he just pressed closer, his breath hot on my skin, his words even hotter.
“Are you gonna come for me?” he whispered. “Standing right here, with your panties around your thighs?” He applied firm pressure to my clit with every dirty word.
I came immediately, my body tensing, thighs clamping around his wrist as sweet pleasure washed over me. He kept his finger moving, taking me through every wave, his other hand steadying me as I trembled and gasped, nearly collapsing against his chest.
When I finally opened my eyes, he was watching me with a look that was all pride and satisfaction. He pressed a kiss to my belly, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.
Connor cleaned me gently, and when he finished up, he held my gaze as he licked his fingers clean. After, he gently pulled my panties up the rest of the way, his hands lingering on my skin for just a moment longer.
“There,” he approved, his voice softer now. “All taken care of.”
He pulled me into his lap, wrapping me in his arms, and I melted against him, every nerve still tingling from his touch.
Toffee appeared and curled beside us while Connor’s hand stroked my damp hair, the other resting protectively on my waist.
“Sierra,” Connor murmured, his voice a low vibration I could feel through his chest. I tilted my head up to look at him, suddenly alert and questioning. His expression was unreadable, those dark eyes giving nothing away.
“What is it?” I asked, my mind immediately conjuring worst-case scenarios. Had Jerry contacted him? Had something happened while I was in the bath?
Connor's thumb traced lazy lines over my waist and hips, his touch preventing my brain from spiraling. “I got a call from Coach while you were in the bath. I have a fight in Boston coming up.”
“Oh.” I blinked, processing this information. Connor hadn’t really talked about his schedule with me. "When is it?"
“Four days from now. Friday night.” His fingers continued their gentle path, but I could feel the subtle tension in his body now.
“Coach wants me on the plane tomorrow afternoon. Training is already set up at the venue.”
Tomorrow. My stomach tightened at the thought of being alone so soon after seeing Jerry, after learning to rely on Connor. The penthouse suddenly seemed too large, too empty without his commanding presence filling every corner. I wanted him with me.
“I don't have to go,” Connor added, his voice softer now as he carded his fingers through my hair. “I can tell them to find another challenger. You need me here.”
The offer was weighted with everything unsaid.
Connor would never back out of a fight, especially not a title fight.
His career was important, the foundation of his being.
Walking away from this opportunity would cost him millions.
The fact that he was even suggesting it made my chest ache with a mixture of love and guilt.
“No,” I said firmly, pushing myself up on one elbow to look at him properly. Toffee made a disgruntled noise at the disruption, stretching dramatically before relocating to the foot of the bed.
"You can't miss the fight. It's too important.”
Connor's eyes seared into mine, searching for any sign of hesitation.
“You're more important.”
The simple declaration made my throat tighten. This man, who the world knew as "Killer" Graves with a record number of knockouts to his name, was offering to walk away for me. The contrast between his public persona and the man who held me so tenderly never ceased to make me dizzy.
I swallowed hard, gathering the courage to ask the question lingering in the back of my mind .
“What if...” I hesitated, suddenly nervous. “What if I came with you?”
I really wanted to, but what if he didn’t want me there?
Connor went very still, his expression unreadable again. “To Boston?”
“Yes.” The word came out stronger than I expected. “I have the week off, anyway. And I've never seen you fight in person before.”
This was true—I'd only watched the Las Vegas fight on television. Though half of it was with my hands partially covering my eyes, terrified of seeing him get hurt despite knowing how skilled he was.
“It's not a vacation, sweet girl,” he mused, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “I'll be training most of the time. Media obligations. Weight checks. You'd be alone in the hotel room for hours.”
“I don't mind,” I insisted, warming to the idea the more I considered it. "I can bring books. Work on the summer reading program remotely.”
That, and the thought of being separated from him right now, after seeing Jerry, made my skin crawl with anxiety.
Connor studied me for a long moment, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip in a gesture that sent warmth spreading through my body.
“You really want to come? To watch me fight?”
There was something vulnerable in the question, a hint of a lonely boy I knew nothing about. I nodded, pressing a kiss to his thumb. “I really do.”
A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features from intimidating to breathtaking. “Then pack your bags. We're going to Boston.”
Toffee, sensing the shift in mood, padded back up the bed to head-butt Connor's chin, demanding to be included in whatever plans were being made.
Connor laughed, rubbing down the cat’s fluffy body. “Sorry, buddy. You're staying here.”
I shifted suddenly, an anxious idea in mind that made my nerves tighten. “Can we take him?” I asked quietly. “Since I’ll be in the room a lot?”
I asked the question like a bad child requesting candy.
“Oh, sweet girl,” Connor soothed, lifting Toffee to eye level. The cat dangled contentedly from his hands, purring even louder. “Anything you want.”
The sentence made the deepest parts of me melt, a soft laugh bubbling up from somewhere inside me. I’d get to bring Toffee, the knowledge lifted even more weight from my shoulders.
Connor's eyes softened as he watched me, setting Toffee back down between us. “I like that sound,” he breathed, leaning in to press his lips to my forehead. “I missed it.”
I curled back against his chest, feeling light. A new city, far away from the shadows of yesterday. Days of watching Connor in his element, of being surrounded by his world instead of mine. Four days where Jerry couldn't possibly find me.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his skin.
Connor's arms tightened around me, his lips brushing my forehead. "For what?”
“For letting me come with you.”
For making me feel safe. For being willing to give up everything for me. For loving me despite my broken pieces.
“Always,” he promised, the word a vow in the darkness. “Wherever I go, you belong.”
Toffee's purrs and Connor's heartbeat created a soothing symphony, and I felt the first stirrings of something I hadn't expected to feel so soon after yesterday's trauma: excitement.
Boston meant watching Connor fight for a championship. Boston meant leaving Jerry and his ghost far behind us, at least for a few days.