Chapter 11
HADLEY
Why am I doing this again?
I am voluntarily surrendering to him because this man knows how to curse me with a stare, and it’s not even a vile curse. Instead, he is shaking me and waking up every dormant feeling that I have for him.
I changed into expensive lingerie because I like teasing him. I wanted him to suffer, look but not touch. We all have a weakness, and mine is the way his eyes fill with a warm possession when I’m the object he stares at.
Which is why I am standing right here locked in a lip tango with my husband.
Connor’s lips firmly kiss mine, with his tongue requesting entry, and I eagerly give. We always want what we probably shouldn’t have. Except, I never say no to ice cream, so the same rule can apply to the only man who kisses me with electricity.
Because Connor’s kisses seep through my veins and sink me down, and my body comes alive when his lips are on mine, something I hate to admit.
My body curves into his as his arm tightens around my waist and his kiss deepens. We sizzle together, and maybe through the years, we’ve both feared that.
We kissed for the camera, we made one another come, but an intimate kiss like this? It’s our first in this chapter of our lives, and it’s from our own initiative.
I murmur a sound of enjoyment as my eyes remain closed so I can drown in this kiss and in his arms, ignoring any warning flare looming in the back of my head. If I’m giving into this moment, then I’m going all in.
Even when he begins to walk us back toward the bed, I’m lost in a spellbinding moment. That is until his mouth leaves my lips and skims down my throat, and his free hand spreads along the back of my neck like I’m his to claim.
“You drive me crazy,” he hums as he nuzzles into my neck, creating a sensitive wave that cascades down to my nipples.
“My life’s mission,” I whisper in retort, but really, I should scream ditto.
He growls and hoists me up, my legs naturally wrapping around his waist, and a sound escapes me because I feel he’s more than ready.
A flimsy strap falls off my shoulder, and it only encourages Connor to trail his mouth along my collarbone, causing my head to fall back and my thighs to bind tighter around him.
It’s a worthless move on my part, because a few seconds later, he plops me onto the bed and hovers over me with his eyes hungry and my heart growing heavy—the good kind.
I watch as Connor peels his t-shirt up, and I bite my lip from the show. There is a reason why women peg him as the hockey player with looks. I can’t decide if I should focus on his arms or chest; it’s a hard choice, so I choose the dangerous one and lock my gaze with his smoldering eyes.
The corner of his mouth tugs when he combs a few strands of hair behind my ear.
I hate when he’s sweet like that—no, I don’t, but I should.
I’m a woman who has self-respect, I remember what he did, but I can’t seem to shake that there is a reason, and we’re no longer as young and foolish. Maybe he was meant for a second…
I shake my head. “This is just sex,” I lie.
He smirks. “Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself.”
“Can you just, I don’t know, step up your cocky ego factor? You seem to have left it at the door, and it’s confusing, distracting, kind of infuriating,” I begin to mumble and pout.
He pauses as he holds his weight over me. His head falls forward when he laughs, then he glances up to study my face. “You want me to be an asshole during sex?”
“No,” I stutter. “Just… you’re sending mixed messages. I don’t know if this…”
Something sparks inside of him, and in a swift move, he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. “This is me about to take you with a ring on your finger that confirms you are my wife, so I intend to fuck you the way a wife deserves to be fucked. Is that clear enough for you?”
I’m speechless because he has determination in his tone to prove me wrong from whatever doubt is floating in my head.
Gathering my bearings, I remain firm. “It’s just sex.”
He lets go of my wrists and sighs. “Fine. The choice is yours; you lead, or you let me prove you wrong.”
My pussy squeezes from the thought of what that could entail, but emotionally, I’m not sure I’m ready. “On your back,” I demand. The safer option, that’s what I choose.
He tips his head slightly to the side. “This could be fun.” He complies by standing, removing his jeans, then lying on the bed.
I quickly swing my legs to straddle him, and from instinct, my hips roll to ride his boxers. The matching panties to this baby doll are barely a layer, and I feel everything against my heat. My senses are heightened, and I should beg for him to touch my bundle of nerves to get some form of release.
I assess my fingers as I walk them up his stomach then stop at his chest. Leaning down, I place a kiss next to my hand.
His skin is warm, and my hair falls along his body, tickling his skin, but it’s his hand that is stroking my behind and drawing up to my lower back in mollifying circles that drives me wild.
He’s boosting me through touch.
Lifting my shoulders back up, I hold his gaze as I slide the straps off my arms and inch down the lingerie. He sits up to kiss my breast, and I hiss a breath when his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sneaks his fingers between us to stroke my pussy.
He groans but keeps his mouth on me. “You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs between switching breasts.
I breathe out to pace myself. I’m aching for a release to come quickly.
“Mmhmm.” It’s a cop-out answer, but I’m too lost on his fingertips that circle my clit. Then he dips one finger inside of me and my head falls onto his shoulder from the intense feeling.
“I think you’re desperate for my cock. Always have been.”
I want to hate his sweltering words, but I’m already half gone.
I reach between us and sneak into the waistband of his boxer briefs, setting his cock free and wrapping my fingers around him. His throaty moan appeases me, and I’m desperate to do more to him.
One stroke then two.
We’re touching each other and working ourselves into a frenzy.
“We have too much on,” I whisper.
“I agree.”
Quickly, we both discard any remaining scraps of cloth, then I’m back on him, sitting together face to face and his cock sliding between my center, getting soaked in my arousal.
The tip of his cock is dangerously close to my entrance and our foreheads touch while we take a moment to digest that we’re about to do this.
“We’re good?” he asks gently. “I’ve never…”
My heart is palpitating, and my breath runs wild. Fuck, why does he have to make me feel like this is special. I’m his first for something, wife and no condom.
“Considering you think I can get pregnant from immaculate conception, then I think you’re a little late to ask, but yeah, we’re fine.”
Mischief twinkles in his eyes. “Then ride me.”
A short laugh escapes me. Half of him just said that because he is goofy that way, while the other part is because he means it.
Positioning myself over him, I slowly press down, and everything inside of me coils from the instant gratification of having him inside me. I move and move until he’s filled me up, with my inner walls clenched around him.
“You feel so fucking good,” he grits out, and his hands grip my hips to hold me in place.
I’m nearly stuck on top of him as I adjust to his size, but then I move an inch, then a little more, until I lift myself back up to his tip and root myself back down on him.
I do this a few times until I find a rhythm that feels right.
He gently slaps my ass and then palms a soothing circle.
“Use me. Take what you want. It’s all yours,” he whispers.
That sensitive demeanor is back, but I don’t argue.
I meet him on thrusts, when I’m halfway down and he tips up, with the angle hitting the right buttons inside me, and I moan while he groans. I’m not sure I can feel my legs anymore, everything is barreling to my pussy, and I’m on fire in the best possible way.
Maybe he notices, or maybe he’s just being dominant, but he grips my hips with vigor then pulls me close and flips us so he’s on top, all without ever leaving me.
“I lied. I’m taking over.”
A drowsy sound escapes me. “Surprise, surprise, you lied,” I tease with an underlying truth.
“Hadley,” he warns.
My response is to reach up and frame his face affectionately while he picks up our speed. My toes dip into the muscle of his ass, widening my legs, and my clit enjoys the friction of his body rubbing against me.
“Eyes on me,” he demands.
Our eyes meet and lock, and my heart reminds me that it’s still beating and all of my energy hasn’t, in fact, flowed to my pussy. This feels like entrapment; I’m under him with no escape and his eyes are a shackle. But there is nowhere else that I would rather be.
We stay in this trance until our rhythm is uncontrollable, and I know I’m near the end. I use my fingers to play with myself to help me reach the destination at the same time.
“I’m coming inside of you. Need to mark you, and I fully intend to use those ribbons again if it means you won’t be showering tonight. All night, you will have to feel me.” Ah, there is his cocky comment that I needed to hear, except it’s hopelessly hot.
“Figured you would go barbarian on me.” I smirk and moan.
He leans down and kisses my mouth, gently biting the corner. “Call it perks of being your husband.”
“Then do it. Leave. Me. Dripping,” I gravel out, wildly eager for his words to come to fruition.
“Good wife.” He places a kiss on my cheek before focusing on taking us to the finish line.
I close my eyes and see stars, with my body exploding.
When all is said and done, he stays seated between my legs, as our connection doesn’t break even when I feel his warmth trickling down my thigh.
I lie there taking in the post-orgasm bliss.
I can’t help the faint smile that wants to form as I rake my fingers through Connor’s hair where he rests his head against my chest, his ear near my heart.
Living the fantasy is completely okay if it’s only for a little bit, right?