25. Love #2
Letting his hard cock slip free from my lips, I take in the blissed-out look on Connor’s face.
His head is thrown back, his eyes closed.
He’s clutching the leather of the couch so tightly, he’s probably leaving marks in it so I know he’s nowhere near as relaxed as he seems. He’s clearly enjoying himself, though, and all I can think as I look at him is: he’s mine.
And that’s why, without even realizing that I was going to do it until I do, I move my head and bite down on his groin. It’s about an inch away from where his trimmed pubic hair begins, and I dig my teeth into his skin as hard as I can without breaking it.
Connor jolts. He hisses out a curse that gets even more heated when I withdraw my teeth and pull myself up so that I’m standing.
His expression is murderous, though his voice is surprisingly calm as he asks, “Where are you—”
“Knife?” I say.
He looks confused for a second. His cock twitches as he sits up, almost as though he wants to remind me what I was doing before I bit him, but he takes a moment to process what I said before… “My pocketknife?”
I nod.
He pauses again. “You gonna gut me, beautiful? Go right ahead, but can you finish blowing me first? To have my wife give me my first blow job… I’ll die happy so long as you let me finish first.”
Oh, Connor… I’m not going to gut you. But I do need your knife.
I flex my fingers. “Knife,” I repeat.
He has a good reason to fear that I’ll stab him. I have before. Does that stop him from reaching into the front pocket of his jeans and grabbing his knife to give me?
Not even a little.
It’s folded when I accept it. Carefully, I open it. Carefully, I lower myself in front of him again.
Carefully, I put the point of his knife to his skin and, carefully, I carve an ‘H’ over the bitemark left on his groin.
Connor doesn’t stop me. Instead, he watches me with nothing less than predatory interest as I draw blood.
“Deeper,” he orders. “You want to make it hurt, sweetheart? Dig deeper.”
“Don’t want it to hurt,” I rasp out. “Just want it to scar.”
He goes still. “What?”
There are times I think that I’m nowhere near as unhinged as Connor Heyward. Then there are times when I wonder if he’s the normal one in this relationship.
This is one of those.
Once I’m satisfied with my handiwork, I lift the knife to my lips. I lap at the blood on the knife the same way I was just licking at the head of his cock. Only when I’ve cleaned the blade of every drop do I meet the stunned look in Connor’s pretty blue eyes.
“What? You showed everyone that I marked your arm with that scar, didn’t you? Now anyone who comes near this cock knows that it also belongs to Haven Smith.”
“Haven Heyward,” he gasps, the moment he gets… really gets… what I mean. “You’re Haven Heyward.”
He has a point.
Now, I’m not about to put a second ‘H’ next to the first; even if no one else will see it, I know better than to mark him like that. I do however use the tip of his pocketknife to add a plus sign, then a ‘C’.
As though he’s a big oak and we’re sweethearts, I carve our initials right next to his dick. And Connor? The second he realizes what I’ve done, he grunts and shoots ropes of semen right into the curtain of hair around my bowed head.
Sitting up, I toss the knife onto the coffee table before checking out the damage.
I pick up a clump of hair, thick with his semen. “Well… that was fun, babe, but I think I need a shower.”
“Uh-uh. No, you don’t. I’m going to lick you clean.”
I raise my eyebrows, showing him the spunk in my hair with a wrinkled nose.
He lets out a husky chuckle. “No, I’m not about to eat my own jizz. Give me some credit, babe. I have something else I’ll use my tongue on.”
My heart jumps. I pull away from Connor, staring up at him. He doesn’t mean… does he?
“Come over here and sit on my face, Haven.”
Oh. Yes.
He does.
“Connor—”
“My wife just claimed me with her mouth. It’ll take a second for me to fuck her the way she deserves, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just sit here and wait for my cock to come back to life. Get your pretty little ass over here and sit on my motherfucking face.”
It’s the way he says that. He’s never given me a direct order in bed before—letting me believe I have all the control—but now that he has… I kind of like it.
Doesn’t mean I’m going to jump to listen to him, but—fuck—am I getting aroused.
It only becomes even more noticeable when his tongue darts out, dabbing the corner of his mouth before he tells me, “Grab the knife.”
I blink.
He nods. “Yeah. You heard me. Grab the knife, Haven. It’s on the coffee table where you put it. Get it.”
When I hesitate, his voice becomes more of a croon.
“I’m not going to carve into your skin like you did to me. One day you’ll wear a ‘C’, but not yet. I still want you to know you’re in absolute control if you let me have this. If you need to say stop, but you can’t do it, stab me in the shoulder. I’ll get the hint. So grab the knife, Haven. Yeah?”
“There was a time I’d slit your throat if you let me come that close to you with a knife. Now you’re asking me to stab you?”
“I want my wife to feel comfortable anytime we’re in bed together. So if I get another scar? Fuck it. I was too pretty to begin with. Not as pretty as Bas—”
I snort. Sorry, but as attractive and gorgeous and mouthwatering as my husband has always been to me—even when I refused to admit that I thought so—I think it’s fair to say that no one is as pretty as Sebastien Reynolds.
Connor purses his lips for a moment. At this point in our relationship, you’d think he wouldn’t be jealous of his old friends—and you’d be wrong. He doesn’t seem all that pleased that I implied Bas is prettier than he is, which is probably why he decides to punish me the way he does.
Not with pain. Never with pain. Connor told me repeatedly in the beginning that he would never hurt me, and he didn’t; physically, at least. But pleasure… yeah. I see the dark look in his eyes, the lust-filled expression twisting his features, and I know I’m in trouble.
Leaning back into the couch, he pats his chest.
I stay on my knees.
I… I can’t.
Connor disagrees.
He shakes his head. “Bas might be pretty, but your husband is hungry, sweetheart. So get on over here, put your ass on my chest, your legs over the couch, hold on tight to my head and let me feast on that pussy of years.”
I suck in a breath.