Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sierra
I listened to Connor move around in the bathroom, occasionally calling out to ask if I preferred lavender or eucalyptus bath oil. I found myself smiling at the ceiling. Tonight hadn't gone exactly as I'd imagined when we left the restaurant, but it had been perfect anyway.
Connor led me to the bathroom, which was as luxurious as the rest of the suite. A massive soaking tub dominated one corner, easily big enough for two. The scent of eucalyptus filled the air, making me inhale deeply.
“In you go,” he breathed, helping me step into the full steaming tub. The warm water felt heavenly against my skin, and I sank down with a contented sigh.
Connor stepped into the tub behind me, settling himself and pulling me to sit between his legs, my back against his chest. The feel of his hard body against mine, the evidence of his arousal pressing against my lower back, sent a fresh wave of desire through me.
“This is nice,” I murmured, leaning back against his chest .
“Mmm,” he agreed, his hands beginning to wander over my body, skimming along my sides, cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples. “Very nice.”
We stayed like that for a while, his hands exploring my body with lazy, sensual touches while the warm water hugged us. The combination of the bath, the lingering effects of the champagne, and Connor's touch had me feeling languid and deeply relaxed, yet simultaneously aroused.
“Present yourself to me,” Connor suddenly ordered, his voice low and commanding. His tone was dominant, though there was a tenderness underlying the authority that made my pulse quicken.
My champagne-addled brain, coupled with the steam, struggled to process the directive as I shifted in the tub, turning in the water to face him.
The movement sent ripples across the surface as I settled on my knees between his spread legs. His cock stood thick and proud beneath the water's surface. My mouth watered instinctively, the memory of his taste still fresh on my tongue from earlier.
“No,” he corrected, his large hands finding my hips and guiding me firmly. “I want you on all fours. Present your perfect ass for me, sweet girl.”
A rush ran through me at his directive, mingled with a flutter of nervousness low in my belly. I repositioned myself, the porcelain cool against my palms as I braced my forearms on the tub's ledge. My cheek pressed against my arms, the chill contrasting with the heat spreading through my body.
The position left me feeling incredibly exposed, my bottom raised above the waterline, cheeks parted by the position, completely vulnerable to his gaze.
“Fuck, look at you,” Connor growled, his voice gone gravel-dark with desire. The sound sent shivers racing down my spine. “That pretty pussy glistening, this perfect little rosebud just begging for attention. You've been saving this for me, haven't you? My good girl?”
I whimpered, the combination of his filthy praise and the cool air kissing my most intimate places making me squirm shyly. The champagne had lowered my inhibitions, but not enough to erase the self-conscious heat flooding my cheeks completely.
“This is…”
“I know, sweet girl,” he soothed, his slick hands sliding up the backs of my thighs. The bath oil he'd poured earlier made his touch glide like liquid silk over my skin. “That's why we're going slowly. I’m going to open you up nice and easy.”
His thumbs pressed into the crease where thigh met cheek, spreading me wider.
I gasped at the sudden exposure, the humid bathroom air whispering across sensitive skin I'd never even considered before.
Connor's appreciative groan vibrated through me as he leaned closer, his breath hot against my exposed forbidden hole.
“Relax,” he murmured, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the tight ring of muscle. The shock of intimacy made me jolt forward, but his iron grip on my hips held me in place.
I felt his tongue dart out, licking warm, wet circles over the ring before pushing in slightly, making me whimper and tense.
“Such a pretty little hole. Just breathe through it, let me take care of you.”
His tongue was warm and wet against my most private place, making me gasp at the unexpected pleasure. Connor hummed appreciatively, the vibration sending tingles through me as his tongue became bolder, pushing in further.
My thighs began to tremble as he worked, alternating between firm licks and even firmer pressure that had me fighting between the instinct to pull away and the desire to press back against his mouth.
“Connor,” I whimpered, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears as his tongue breached me again, the tip pressing inside before retreating. The sensation was foreign, forbidden, and utterly arousing.
“You taste so good everywhere,” he growled against my sensitive skin, his breath hot and teasing. Each press of his tongue became more insistent, delving deeper, preparing me in the most intimate way possible. My breathing turned ragged, small, helpless noises escaping me.
Just when I thought I couldn't handle any more of the intense sensation, he pulled back slightly.
I felt the cool slickness of oil as his finger replaced his tongue, circling the now-relaxed muscle carefully before pushing in.
I whimpered as I fought the instinct to clench, the unfamiliar pressure sending conflicting signals through my nervous system.
“Fuck, you're gripping me,” Connor chuckled darkly, the vibration of his voice against my sensitive skin making me moan despite myself. “I have to loosen you up.”
Before I could process the filthy promise in his words, his other hand slid between my legs, two fingers sliding into my dripping core without preamble. The dual sensation of front and back had me crying out, my back arching involuntarily as pleasure and strange new pressure warred for dominance.
“That's my girl,” Connor purred, crooking his fingers to press deep inside me. “Taking what I give you. You’re such a good girl, Sierra. Filled all pretty with my fingers.”
The vulgarity of his words, combined with the expert motion of his fingers, only served to heighten my arousal.
My hips began moving of their own accord, pushing myself back onto his probing digit while simultaneously pushing forward onto the fingers sliding in and out of my core. The water sloshed violently around us, but neither of us cared about the mess. I wanted more of this feeling.
“Look at you," Connor growled, increasing the pressure of his circling thumb on my clit. “You want more, don't you? You want to come screaming with my fingers buried in both your greedy holes?"
My stomach erupted in butterflies as I whined. “Yes! Please, Connor.”
My plea dissolved into a broken moan as he breached the resistant muscle further, the slow, inexorable press of his finger stretching me in ways I'd never imagined. The oddity was there, but fleeting, quickly replaced by a strange fullness that had me panting against the tub.
“Fuck, you're taking me so well,” he groaned, working his finger in shallow thrusts. The drag of his knuckle against the oversensitive ring of muscle made me whimper, but the persistent stimulation to my clit from his other hand kept the pleasure building.
“Such a good girl for me. I’m going to make you scream while I finger-fuck this pretty ass.”
The crudeness of his language, combined with the dual penetration, had me hurtling toward climax faster than I could process. My thighs trembled violently, the water warming my breasts as I struggled to maintain the position.
“That's it. Feels so good, yeah?” he purred, curling both fingers simultaneously. The pressure was unbearable, the stretch overwhelming, the pleasure catastrophic. “Come on my fingers, Sierra. Show me you love it.”
The praise shattered what remained of my inhibitions. My orgasm ripped through me with violent intensity, a cry tearing from my throat as my body clamped down on his invading digits.
Connor growled his approval, working me through the convulsions until I collapsed against the tub's edge, panting and all of my energy spent.
He withdrew his fingers with exquisite care, each movement gentle as aftershocks rippled through my over-sensitized body. I felt exhausted, floating somewhere between consciousness and bliss, barely registering as Connor reached for a soft washcloth and soaked it in the warm bathwater.
“I've got you, sweet girl,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble as he cleaned between my legs with gentle attention, the warm cloth soothing against my tender skin. “You did so beautifully for me.”