Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
I wiggled out of my leggings and underwear with my heart pounding in my ears, pushing them down my legs and kicking them aside until I lay completely naked before him. I still felt shy under his scrutiny, resisting the urge to cover myself with my arms.
“Fucking perfect,“ he breathed, shrugging off his now-unbuttoned shirt to reveal his muscular torso. The sight of him always took my breath away—the defined muscles, the ink that covered his arms, the sheer power that radiated from him.
He made quick work of his remaining clothes, his erection springing free as he pushed down his pants and boxers. My mouth went dry at the sight of him fully aroused, thick and long, and intimidating.
Tonight, as he crawled onto the bed and over me like a predator stalking its prey, I wanted all of him. The champagne had loosened my brain, and the memory of watching him dominate in the ring had awakened something in me, a desire to completely belong to this powerful man.
“Connor,” I whispered as he hovered above me, his weight supported on his forearms. “I want you. All of you.”
He groaned, lowering his head to capture my lips in another searing kiss. “You have me, Sierra, he murmured against my mouth. “Every fucking part of me is yours.”
His hands began a slow exploration of my body, tracing up my sides like he was feeling every inch of my skin. He cupped my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples in teasing circles that made me arch into his touch, seeking more pressure, more friction.
“Good girl,” he praised, lowering his head to replace his thumb with his mouth, sucking one nipple between his lips while his fingers continued to tease the other.
The sensation sent sparks of pleasure shooting straight to my core, and I moaned, my hands finding purchase in his hair, holding him to me.
He lavished attention on my breasts until I was squirming beneath him, my hips lifting in search of relief from the ache building between my thighs.
Only then did he begin to move lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses down my stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into my navel in a way that made me giggle and then gasp as he nipped at the sensitive skin just below.
“Spread your legs for me,” he ordered, his voice rough with desire as he settled between my thighs. “Let me taste you.”
I complied eagerly, my knees falling open to accommodate his broad shoulders.
He looked before he tasted, nosing over the softness of my bikini area and then inhaling long right at my slit.
I gasped, instinctively closing my legs to push his head away, but he held them open, giving me a corrective glare.
When his tongue finally licked over my clit, I cried out, my back arching off the bed from the intense pleasure. He groaned against my core, the vibration adding another layer of sensation that had me writhing already.
“So fucking sweet,” he murmured, his breath hot against my most intimate place. “I’m addicted to this pussy, sweet girl.”
And he proved it, his tongue alternating between broad strokes that covered my entire sex and focused attention on my clit that had me writhing.
He added his fingers, sliding first one and then two into my entrance while his tongue continued its relentless assault on my sensitive bundle of nerves.
I felt the familiar tension building low in my belly.
My hips were moving on their own, canting up in seek of the pleasure he was giving me as my orgasm built.
Connor curled his fingers inside me while the steady pressure of his tongue flicked over my clit, and it was too much.
The tension snapped, pleasure washing over me in waves as I came with his name on my lips, my body shuddering beneath his skilled hands and mouth. He worked me through it gently, easing the pressure but not stopping completely until I pushed him away.
I lay like jelly, panting on the bed. Only then did he lift his head, his lips glistening with evidence of my pleasure, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“My good girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh before moving back up my body. “You’re so fucking sweet when you come for me.”
I reached for him as he settled beside me, my hand finding his erection, still hard and straining against his stomach.
“Connor,” I panted, meeting his gaze. “Please. I want you inside me. I'm ready.”
His breathing faltered for a moment, his eyes darkening with naked want. But he shook his head, leaning forward to press a kiss between my breasts. “Not tonight, sweet girl.”
“Why not?” I asked, frustration and desire making my voice sharper. "I want this. I want you. "
“I know,” he soothed, his hand stroking down my waist in a calming gesture even as his other hand moved back between my legs to gently stroke my sensitive folds.
"And I want you too, more than you can possibly imagine. But you've been drinking, and when I finally make you mine completely, I want you fully present. No alcohol clouding your judgment or your memory.”
Part of me wanted to argue, to insist that I knew my own mind, champagne or no champagne. But the larger part recognized the care behind his refusal—his concern that I might regret rushing into something while inebriated, his desire for our first time to be perfect and memorable.
I conceded silently, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. His erection was still standing proud and neglected, and without a word, I reached for him, wrapping my fingers around his length and tugging him toward me.
“Your turn,” I said, my voice husky from my cries of pleasure.
He allowed me to guide him up my body until he was straddling my chest, his cock level with my face, though he had none of his weight on me.
This angle took my breath away since it was such a dominant position.
The thought sent another rush through me as I lifted my head just slightly to take him into my mouth.
The groan that escaped him as my lips closed around the head of his cock was deeply satisfying. I worked him with my mouth and hand in tandem, using the techniques he'd helped me learn.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned, one hand braced against the headboard while the other tangled gently in my hair, connecting us. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”
I hummed purposefully, the vibration making him curse again as his hips jerked slightly. I could tell he was holding back, careful not to thrust too deeply and risk making me gag. Even in the throes of pleasure, his consideration made my heart swell with affection.
I quickened my pace, determined to make him lose control the way he'd made me lose mine. I took him as deep as I could, relaxing my throat to accommodate more of his length while my hand worked the base.
Emboldened by his increasingly ragged breathing and the way his thighs tensed around me, I wanted to try taking him deeper.
I relaxed my jaw further, breathing through my nose as I pushed forward, wanting desperately to give him the same pleasure he'd given me. The weight of him on my tongue, the taste of him, the sounds he was making, all of it made me feel powerful and wanted.
As I tried to take another inch, my throat convulsed suddenly, my eyes watering as my gag reflex triggered. Before I could even pull back, Connor was already withdrawing; his movements swift as he cupped my face, thumbs gently wiping at the tears that had sprung to my eyes.
“Sierra,” he said, my name half-growl, half-concern as he stroked his thumbs over my face. “Easy, sweet girl. You're okay.”
I blinked up at him, embarrassment flooding me as I caught my breath. He remained perfectly still above me, his length still rock-hard and angled away from me.
“I'm fine,” I whispered. “Just got carried away.”
He studied my face intently, his thumbs still brushing away the moisture on my cheeks. His eyes held mine, intense and sincere. “Let’s stop?—”
“No,” I interrupted, reaching up to wrap my hand around him again. “I want this. I want you.”
Connor's eyes darkened, completely black. “My brave girl,” he murmured, one hand still cradling my cheek while the other moved to brace against the headboard again. “Take your time. No rushing.”
The tenderness in his voice, the way he remained still and patient above me despite the obvious difficulty of his restraint, made warmth bloom inside of me. I took a deep breath, relaxing my jaw as I guided him back to my lips.
This time, I was more careful, focusing on using my hand in conjunction with my mouth, finding a rhythm that had Connor's breathing growing ragged above me .
“That's it,” he encouraged, his voice strained as he stared down at me. “Keep going. It feels so good.”
His praise spurred me on, my confidence returning as I worked him. His thighs tensed around me, the muscles in his abdomen visibly contracting as he fought to maintain control. The power I felt in that moment, bringing this powerful man to the edge with just my hands and mouth, was intoxicating.
“Sierra,” he warned, his fingers tightening slightly in my hair. “I’m close. If you don't want?—”
I cut him off by squeezing him harder, making it clear that I had no intention of stopping. His warning turned into a guttural moan as his release hit him, hot pulses filling my mouth as I swallowed around him, trying to take everything he had to give me.
When he finally pulled away, his chest heaving with exertion, I couldn't help the small, triumphant smile that curved my lips, I was proud of myself.
Connor moved beside me on the bed, wiping my mouth with his discarded shirt, before gathering me into his arms and pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. “You're so strong,” he murmured, his voice still rough from his release.
We lay there for several minutes, our breathing gradually returning to normal, our bodies cooling in the air-conditioned room. Connor's hand traced lazy patterns on my back, occasionally dipping lower to squeeze my bottom or higher to play with my hair.
“I'm sorry I wouldn't give you what you asked for,” he said eventually, his voice soft but serious. “It's not that I don't want to. You know I fucking do.”
“I know,” I assured him, turning to face him. “And you're probably right. I want to remember every moment of our first time together."
He smiled down at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear with gentle tenderness. “It'll be worth the wait, sweet girl. I promise.”
A comfortable silence fell between us, broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside our window and the soft purring of Toffee, who had joined us shortly after we rested .
“A bath,” Connor suggested after a while, his fingers still tracing patterns on my skin. “Can I help you relax after all the excitement of the day?”
The thought of sinking into warm water was incredibly appealing, especially with the pleasant ache between my thighs, reminding me of the pleasure Connor had given me.
“Okay," I agreed, “But only if you join me.”
His eyebrow quirked in amusement. “Is that so?”
“Mhmmm,” I nodded, trailing my fingers down his solid chest to his stomach, feeling the muscles there contract under my touch. “I think it's only fair since you denied me earlier.”
I’d blame all of this on the alcohol tomorrow.
He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, before pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “Yes, sweet girl.”
With that, he slipped from the bed and disappeared naked to the bathroom. I heard the water start running, oddly comforting as I stretched lazily on the bed, my body pleasantly sore and satisfied.
Connor's care for me, his insistence on waiting until I was completely sober, only confirmed how much he cared for me.