24. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR #2
His tongue slips across his bottom lip. My eyes follow it, because I have absolutely no self-control where his mouth is concerned.
“I need something that’s mine,” Connor says.
My thumb stops, the words sinking beneath my ribs.
“Use me,” I breathe.
Connor’s lips part, his eyes snapping to mine.
“You sure?”
“Never have been with you,” I laugh, short and breathless, my gaze dropping to the hand still against my chest.
When I finally look up, he’s watching me so carefully that irritation starts crawling back beneath my skin.
I’ve said yes. I’m still standing here. I’ve practically handed myself to him, and he’s looking at me like he needs to make absolutely certain before he takes anything.
God, just stop talking and do it.”
Connor’s brows lift.
My fingers curl uselessly at my sides. Fucking hell. I’ve never had to ask for this before.
“Please.”
Connor steps fully into my space, eyes locked on mine as his shoe nudges against the inside of my ankle, pushing lightly until I spread my legs and let him move between them.
His hips press flush to mine, the hard line of him dragging against me when he shifts closer. My teeth clamp down on the groan pushing up my throat, but there’s no hiding the way I tense against him, my cock throbbing beneath my jeans as my fingers flex uselessly at my sides.
He watches me, eyes moving over my face while I stand there with my legs spread around him and absolutely no intention of changing my mind.
“Connor,” I growl, impatiently.
His hand closes around my jaw, his mouth finding mine.
I sink into him, opening beneath the first demanding press of his lips, my hands finding his waist.
“What do you want?” he asks against my mouth.
“Fuck me.”
Connor stills, his name halfway up my throat when he pulls away, his eyes flicking between mine.
“That’s-” His brows pull together. “I don’t-” He blows out a frustrated breath. “Fuck. Are you sure?”
My head drops back against the wall with a low groan, every bit of patience I had disappearing.
“Will you stop fucking asking me that?”
“Theo.”
The warning in my name makes me look at him.
Connor’s thumb digs into the hinge of my jaw, tipping my face towards his as his mouth finds mine again.
They move slowly over mine, barely any pressure behind them, and I try to deepen it.
Connor pulls back just enough to stop me.
I chase him, but his thumb bites into my jaw, and he kisses me again exactly the same way. Slow. Careful. His thumb brushing my cheek
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Connor murmurs against my lips.
He starts to pull back, but I follow, catching his mouth for another kiss before he gets far.
“Thought you hated me.”
“I do,” he hums, teeth nipping at my lip. “Doesn’t mean I want to hurt you.”
I knock my forehead against his, sucking in a breath before looking at him. “Will you stop? You’re the virgin here, not me.”
His eyes narrow. “I’m not a virgin, asshole.”
My brow lifts, a smirk curling at my lips.
“I’ve just never-” he breaks off, raking a hand through his hair.
“Been with a guy?” I finish for him.
“Yeah.”
His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, and whatever argument I was having with myself ends there. I lean in and catch his mouth again before I can start another one.
His fingers slide into my hair, my head tipping into his hand chasing the pull.
“Have you ever-” he starts.
I don’t give him the chance to finish, catching his bottom lip between mine.
Connor tries again anyway. “Has anyone ever-”
“Don’t hurt yourself, princess.”
His mouth brushes mine as I say it, taking most of the tease with it, because I already know what he’s trying to ask.
I just don’t want to answer.
My tongue runs over the back of my teeth while Connor waits, his breath catching against my lips.
“No,” I bite out, hating that I’ve actually got to say it. “I’m not a bottom.”
Connor searches my eyes, his brow lifting and heat burns up my neck.
I’ve had his cock in my mouth. I’ve come with him watching me. None of that made me want to crawl out of my own fucking skin the way four stupid words apparently can.
“Just shut up and fuck me,” I growl, the words scraping out with far too much need.
“Fuck,” Connor mutters, his hand closing around my throat.
His thumb settles over my pulse point, his lips curving up.
His other hand drops between us and finds the button of my jeans, flicking it open with an ease that makes my breath hitch. I stare at him, trying to reconcile this Connor with the one who spent the last five minutes asking if I was sure every thirty fucking seconds.
Now one hand is wrapped around my throat while the other works at my jeans, and the certainty in every movement sends my pulse hammering harder beneath his thumb.
He presses his thumb deeper over the frantic beating of my pulse point, flipping me.
My chest hits the wall, Connor pressing in behind me. He shoves my jeans beneath my ass, cold air sweeping over newly exposed skin before the heat of his body replaces it.
Two fingers press against my lips, and I open, my mouth closing around them as they slide over my tongue.
“Suck.”
My tongue curls around his fingers, drawing them deeper, heat winding tighter through my stomach with every slow drag of my tongue.
His zipper sounds behind me, followed by the rustle of fabric, and then he moves closer.
The first press of his cock between my ass cheeks knocks my breath loose around his fingers. My hips push back into him, chasing the solid heat until the blunt head slides between them.
“Fuck,” I mumble around his fingers.
Connor’s palm cups my jaw, keeping his fingers in my mouth while his breath burns across the back of my neck and his hips stay pressed firmly against mine. I can’t fucking move without feeling him somewhere.
“Enough?” Connor asks, tapping one finger lightly against my tongue.
I nod, his fingers slipping from my mouth.
“Just fucking do it.” I push back into him again, trying to close the last bit of space he insists on keeping between us.
The head of his cock catches against my dry rim, Connor’s answering hiss barely leaving him before his palm cracks across my ass. I jolt into the wall with a moan, heat spreading fast beneath the sting.
“Shit,” Connor breathes behind me.
His forehead drops between my shoulder blades, his hand sliding around my hip, spit still slick across his fingers as he reaches between my cheeks and spreads me open.
My legs spread wider, giving Connor more room as I suck in a breath and hold it. His finger circles my rim, pressure building with every pass until my palms press harder into the wall.
Then he pushes inside.
“Con-”
His name catches in my throat as I fold forward.
My body clenches around him at the unfamiliar pressure. My hips twitch forward, then back, unable to settle while I try to adjust to the stretch.
Connor’s mouth finds the back of my neck, slow kisses moving over my nape while his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against him when my legs start to shake.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs against my skin.
My fingers curl against the brick.
Connor pushes deeper, my forehead dropping to the wall.
Another slow rock of his finger and the discomfort begins to ease, heat taking its place until my hips shift backwards.
“More,” I pant.
A second finger presses against me and my whole body pulls tight around the stretch.
“Relax,” he breathes against my throat, teeth grazing lightly over the skin.
My head tips, giving him more room as his lips close over the spot. The suction of his mouth tears a broken sound from me, and Connor pushes deeper at the same time, working another inch into me while I’m too busy feeling his teeth to tense against him.
“Oh, fuck.”
His fingers sink deeper, curling inside me.
“Ah, shit, Con.”
My knees buckle, Connor’s arm the only thing keeping me upright.
His fingers curl again, my hips jerking backwards into his hand.
He does it again, and I follow this time, pushing back into the movement, chasing that same vicious rush before it’s even finished burning through me.
“Thought it was princess?” Connor growls against my ear, a shiver tearing down my spine. “Go on, baby. Call me princess.”
Heat floods my face as I twist to glare at him over my shoulder, although whatever effect I’m going for is probably ruined by the fact that my hips are still moving against his hand.
“Shit, when did you get so filthy?” My voice shakes around the words. “You’re supposed to be the shy virgin.”
A growl vibrates against my back before Connor drives his fingers deeper, my mouth falling open around a breathless shout.
“I’m not a fucking virgin,” he bites out.
“Could’ve fooled- oh god.”
His fingers curl, and the rest of the sentence vanishes.
My vision smears at the edges as my cock throbs between my legs, painfully fucking hard, pre-come already slick across the head, Connor’s hand closing around me.
My hips buck straight into his fist as his fingers drive into me at the same time, catching that spot again and ripping every coherent thought straight out of my head.
“So fucking hard,” he breathes against the side of my throat.
His thumb sweeps over the head, sliding through the slickness before his fist closes around me again, and my forehead drops against the wall with a broken, “Shit.”
His fingers keep working inside me while his fist moves over my cock, one feeding straight into the other until I can’t separate the sensations anymore. My thighs start shaking beneath me, muscles jumping every time his fingers curl.
“Con- fuck-”
I drag in a breath that does absolutely nothing.
“I can’t-”
His fingers curl again, and my entire body jolts into his hold.
“I’m gonna-”
My mouth stays open against the brick, spilling sounds I’d deny under fucking oath while Connor keeps going, giving me absolutely no chance to pull myself back together.
“Now who looks like a virgin?” he chuckles darkly, his mouth brushing my ear.
My laugh doesn’t even make it out, my orgasm tearing through me.