Chapter 33
33
Whit Bowman
F ollowing orders, I’m sitting on the bed, perched on top of my calves, completely nude, with my hands resting in my lap by the time Conrad walks through the bedroom door. His eyes find me immediately, darkening with a desire that I can feel from here. It’s potent, and it’s coursing through my veins too.
Back to the door, he works the bolo tie from around his neck until it’s loose enough to slip over his head. Letting it fall to the floor, he never takes his eyes off me as he pops each one of the buttons on his shirt open. Reaching down, I wrap a hand around my stiff length, feeling like I’m about to combust already.
But before I can— “Ah-ah.” Conrad clucks his tongue at me. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself, now did I?”
I grit my teeth and shake my head.
“That’s right. That’s my cock, kitten.” Goosebumps cover my flesh. “That means I get to say when you’re allowed to touch it, and I say not yet.”
Hungry eyes watching me, Conrad crosses the room in large strides. He walks with purpose. With power. Coming to a stop in front of the bed, he peers down his nose at me, grabbing a fistful of the hair at my nape as he gently pulls my head back until I’m looking up at him. He crashes his lips against mine, taking my mouth savagely and messily. My head is fuzzy and my chest heaves by the time he’s finished, and I watch as he swipes the bottle of champagne off the nightstand, bringing it up to his mouth as he takes a swig.
Then, without another word, he walks over to the chair in the corner of the room. Sitting down, he holds the champagne by the neck of the bottle as it rests on his knee. Gaze slicing to mine, I feel his stare everywhere. Patting his thigh, he says, “Get over here.”
Climbing off the bed, I take one step in his direction before he shakes his head and growls, “Crawl to me, kitten.”
My heart is a steady drum, a chaotic beat that makes it hard to breathe. I’m standing on wobbly legs, arousal flooding my system, my eyes trained on the brute of a man across the room sitting in the large wingback chair, somehow making it look small in his presence. His dark eyes look nearly black from here, hooded and full of lust. Full of debauchery.
Conrad’s words—his filthy demand—bounce off these four walls, stealing my breath and making my knees weak. His deep, gruff tone washes over me, pressing into my skin like a balm.
Shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Conrad looks like a fucking god in that chair. Sitting back, legs kicked wide, his well-worn jeans fitting him just right. The wide expanse of his chest, the dark, coarse hair covering it. Forearms corded and tan from hours spent in the sun every single day.
He’s beautiful.
Powerful.
He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and he’s sitting before me, demanding I drop to my hands and knees, and crawl to him. And God, do I want to. I would do anything this man asked me to do right now. Reading that letter at dinner, hearing the words he said to me, all of it was everything I needed and so much more. It healed something inside of me, and now it feels like I’m truly coming home.
Elbow propped on the arm of the chair, his fingers scratch along his jaw. My skin is on fire under the weight of his gaze.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, kitten,” Conrad growls when moments pass and I’m still frozen in place with my heart in my throat. The way that pet name falls from his lips so effortlessly sends a shiver through me. His tone leaves no room for argument and makes my dick impossibly harder. Conrad Strauss is a force to be reckoned with, and nothing has ever turned me on more than when he’s like this. When he lets his dominant side out. When he takes control, giving me everything I never knew I needed before him.
Which is why I drop to my knees, bringing my palms flat on the hard, unforgiving floor, and with my eyes never leaving Conrad’s, I crawl. Maybe this should feel embarrassing. Maybe it should feel demeaning. But it doesn’t. It feels empowering. It feels like I’m alive.
The faintest of smirks curves his full lips as he watches my every move. His bottomless eyes drink me in, and I swear I can see every obscene thing he wants to do to me in them.
It feels like an eternity before I reach him. Stopping between his spread legs, I sit back on my haunches, resting my hands flat on the tops of my thighs as my heart ricochets against my ribs. This close to him, his rich, spicy scent surrounds me, making me dizzy. I’m intoxicated on so much more than the champagne I drank earlier. I’m high on Conrad, and I never wish to come down. Not when he looks at me the way he does, like it’s taking every last ounce of willpower to restrain himself. Like he’s dying to consume me.
And I want him to take all I have to give.
Reaching out, Conrad hooks a finger under my chin as he eases it up. Grabbing the champagne, he says, “Open up.”
And I do.
Relaxing my jaw, I wait with anticipation as he brings the bottle up to my parted lips. Tipping it just so, he fills my mouth with the bubbly liquid. I swallow as he pours, our eyes trained on one another. The act of him feeding me this champagne is erotic, and it sends an inferno of need rippling along every inch of my body.
Conrad pours heavy, a steady stream of champagne dribbling out of my mouth and down my chest. Smirking, he stops, setting the bottle on the table beside him.
With his gaze locked on mine, Conrad pats his thigh once, then twice, and without even uttering a single word, I know exactly what he wants from me. My insides flutter, and I bite the inside of my cheek as I lay my head in his lap. Pulse roaring in my ears, my mouth waters as I feel the thick ridge of his growing erection against my cheek.
His hands find their way to my hair, threading through the strands gently. It feels heavenly.
“Such a good boy you are,” he rasps. “Is this what you wanted?”
Warmth spreads in my chest, going down into my stomach, and then lower. His throaty voice, his hand in my hair, the feel of him, it’s all overwhelming in the best way.
It’s everything .
I nod, my hands clenching into fists on my lap, the need to touch myself becoming stronger.
“This isn’t the only thing you want, though, is it, kitten?”
Fuck no, it isn’t. I shake my head.
Conrad hums to himself, fingers tightening on the short strands of hair atop my head. Tugging gently, he lifts my head until our gaze meets. “Stand up for me, baby.”
It’s not a suggestion or a request. It’s an order. One that heats my blood and makes my cock twitch. Standing up, I gaze down at him as his eyes sweep down my body, appreciation and adoration taking over his expression. Warm tingles spread through my veins as his tongue pokes out, wetting his lips. “Beautiful,” he husks. Sitting up, his hand comes to my chest, dragging his fingertips down until he reaches my waist, and then he pauses, flicking his gaze up to mine.
Tucking my chin, I whisper a faint and desperate, “Please.”
I’m standing before him—Conrad Strauss. My ex-husband. The man I have loved for more of my life than I haven’t—and I watch as he admires my naked body. His gaze might as well be a physical touch. I feel it in my chest, in my stomach, my groin. I feel his eyes along my limbs, down my abdomen. Everywhere. Like he’s trying to memorize it all over again.
Stiff and throbbing, my cock bobs in front of him, arousal dripping from the slit, balls tight and begging for attention. His attention. Conrad drags his index finger along the tip, gathering up the moisture. “My kitten is so wet for me already,” he hums, bringing the soaked digit up to his mouth, and while holding my gaze, he sucks it clean. A whimper slips past my lips, brows clashing together, and my cheeks heating at the sight.
Conrad sits back in his chair, big, rough, calloused hand pressing over the outline of his impressive erection, stroking himself through the denim material as my knees collide with the floor, mouth watering as I wait for my next instruction. Eyes dark and filled to the brim with desire, Conrad peers down at me, lips parted in pleasure.
I watch in rapt silence as he unbuckles his belt, seamlessly sliding it from around his waist and letting it fall to the floor.
“Take them off me, kitten,” he growls, my heart kicking up a notch at those words as his gaze flicks down to his jeans.
Fingers coming to the button, I waste no time popping it open and sliding the zipper down. Conrad lifts his hips, letting me drag the denim down his thick, muscular thighs until his girthy, stiff cock juts out, slapping his stomach with the weight of it. No matter how many times I’ve seen him like this, I’ll never get over the sheer size of him. Conrad is a big man, in more ways than one. He’s tall, wide, and solid, with an impressively thick cock and a heavy set of beautiful round balls.
Conrad Strauss is all man, and words like “handsome” or “beautiful” don’t even come close to describing him. He’s a rugged type of beauty with rough, weathered skin, deep lines around his eyes from age that he wears so goddamn well, sharp lines, and a thick, cropped black beard speckled with gray.
He is remarkable.
He is a rich, smoky, top-shelf whiskey aged to perfection.
And he’s mine .
A thick black brow arches as he watches me. “Do you want it?” he asks, wrapping a hand around his cock. The tip is red and slick, and I’m practically salivating with a need to taste him.
“Yes.” My voice is hoarse, the single word nothing more than a mere croak.
His lips curl up, and a bolt of arousal shoots through my bloodstream, my cock twitching.
Conrad wraps a hand around himself, pumping lazily a few times before saying, “Give me that mouth of yours, kitten.”
Bringing the crown up to my lips, he drags it along the bottom one. Like a fiend, my tongue darts out, gathering up the salty mess left behind, the flavor erupting on my tastebuds.
A groan rumbles in his throat. “You like that, don’t you, baby?”
Closing my lips around the flared tip, I peer up at Conrad from beneath my lashes and nod as my tongue swirls around.
“Get me nice and wet, kitten,” Conrad instructs me, a roughness to his voice that makes my cock leak.
I can’t help it as a smile spreads on my lips around the girth of him before I do exactly as he said. Sinking farther down, I take Conrad to the back of my throat, swallowing around the crown before easing off and doing it all over again.
Jaw slack and heavy-lidded eyes black as night, he watches me like he’s a hunter and I’m the best goddamn prey he’s ever captured. A full-body shudder rolls through me under his attention.
Conrad is a literal fucking Greek god, and I’m bowing at his feet.
A groan rumbles in the back of his throat. “Fuck, kitten, that mouth oughta be a sin. You feel so fucking good taking my cock, and you look so fucking sexy doing it too.”
My chest flutters at his praise.
“You’re my little cock slut, aren’t you, baby?” he asks, the gravel in his voice another stroke of arousal to my balls. I nod, my mouth stuffed full of him, and his lips quirk into a smirk. “That’s right, you’re such a good cock slut. I bet you’re just aching for me to stuff your tight cunt with this cock too, huh?”
I moan, unable to say anything as my blood rages like an inferno.
“What a naughty boy,” he rasps darkly. “You keep sucking, get it nice and sloppy, so I can stretch you with this fat cock next, fill you with my cum until you’re messy and dripping.”
Every inch of my skin feels lit up as I pull my mouth off his cock, spit dripping out of my mouth. “Please,” I beg, my dick throbbing with need.
Conrad sits up, hooking his finger under my chin. “Please what, kitten?”
“Please fuck me, Connie. I need it. Need you. Please.”
Sliding his thumb past my parted lips, he brushes over my tongue as I close my mouth and suck. When he groans, it’s music to my ears. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he drawls, tipping his chin behind me. “Go stand in front of the bed, and make sure to arch that back for me real nice.”
Oh, fuck me.
I don’t think I’ve ever shot to my feet as quickly. Conrad chuckles behind me as I assume the position in front of the bed. I don’t miss the way he brings the belt with him. The sound of the nightstand drawer opening and then closing sounds in my ears as anticipation prickles the back of my neck.
The bottle of lube gets tossed on the bed beside my hands, and when I glance over my shoulder, I get an unobstructed view of Conrad removing the rest of his clothes, his glassy, lust-drunk eyes taking in every inch of the view in front of him while the belt is held between his teeth. I have never felt more sexy, more empowered, than when Conrad’s eyes are on me. The way he looks at me, like I’m the center of his entire universe, is intense in the very best way.
“Hands behind your back, kitten.”
A thrill shoots through my bloodstream, making me feel high as I do just that. I watch as he threads the belt into a makeshift restraint, similar to how he did with the robe belt in the barn, bringing back so many memories from the past. His lip ticks up into a smirk that has my stomach dipping and my balls throbbing as he feeds my hands through the slots, tightening them until they’re snug around my wrists.
“Give me a color.”
My chest flutters, and my answer is immediate. “Green.”
“Such a good boy,” he growls.
Taking a step and putting him flush with my back, his lips press down on the area between my neck and shoulder that sends goosebumps all over my flesh. He peppers me with hot, open-mouthed kisses as he grabs the lube, cracking it open. My body trembles as I feel him bring his slick fingers through my crack, and I let out a sigh of relief as he enters me.
First with one finger.
Then two.
By the time he works that third digit in, I’m panting and damn near on the edge of explosion. Once he’s seemingly satisfied with how prepped I am, he withdraws from my body, and I miss the fullness immediately. Thankfully, he doesn’t waste any time lubing his cock before lining himself up and sinking in.
As soon as Conrad bottoms out, we both let out a sigh. The stretch and the pressure are unreal, and as he starts moving, I can’t help but let out a long, low groan.
“Fuck, Connie!” My head falls back, resting on his shoulder as one arm wraps around my waist, the other loosely around my neck, and his cock slams into my ass. “Oh, fuck!”
“That’s it,” he growls, lips brushing against my ear. “Let me hear you scream for me, kitten.”
Conrad lets go of me, shoving my upper half onto the bed, and the change in position has the head of his cock stroking across my prostate with every punishing thrust. It’s heaven. It’s white-hot pleasure zipping through my body, my skin tingling, my heart pumping a mile a minute. It’s fucking everything.
A groan rips from Conrad’s throat as I feel his hands explore my body. They’re up by my shoulders, in my hair, down my spine, squeezing my ass cheeks. They’re everywhere. “Fuck, kitten, I wish you could see how fucking perfect you look for me right now.”
I cry out as he fucks me harder, somehow getting deeper.
“The way your tight fucking cunt stretches to take my cock.” The feel of his thumb tracing around my hole sends a shiver down to my toes. “The way your back muscles bunch and the way you arch for me. The sweat painting your skin, the flush. You’re fucking beautiful, Whit.” With each word spoken, he slams into my ass harder, gritting his teeth as he continues. “I will never, ever stop reminding you how special you are, how in love with you I am, how lucky I am to be yours.”
It's too much. His words, his cock, the pleasure. It’s too much, and I can’t hold on for much longer.
“Connie, fuck!” I gasp, euphoria closing in on all my senses. “Oh, god! I need to come.” My eyes roll back the harder he fucks me. “Please! Can I touch myself? Please!”
Swiftly, he undoes the belt from around my wrists, freeing them. “Do it. Let me feel your ass strangle my cock as you come for me, kitten.”
I fumble, snaking my hand between the bed and myself, wrapping a tight fist around my aching length. The sound of Conrad’s hips slapping my ass fills the room, and I’m about to combust. All it takes is four pumps, and I’m a goner. Dropping my head forward, I cry out, my vision going black as I spill my release all over the bed.
“ Fuckkkkk.” Letting out a guttural roar, Conrad tenses behind me before his cock throbs, emptying inside of me. As soon as he’s finished, he collapses on top of me as we both work on steadying our breaths.
Conrad circles my waist with his arms as I turn around, wrapping mine around his neck as I press my lips to his for a quick, sweet kiss. “I love you,” I murmur against his mouth, savoring this moment, but also relishing that it’s not the last. Knowing that we’ll get to have moments like this as often as we want from here on out.
“I love you, baby. Fuck, do I love you.”