Chapter Twenty-Four
Connor
I stepped into the luxury suite of the sponsoring resort, taking in the expansive space with its panoramic views of Boston's skyline.
The room was exactly what I'd requested—a corner suite on the highest floor, maximum privacy, and enough space for Sierra to feel comfortable during the hours I'd be training. Nothing but the best for my sweet girl.
Sierra followed behind me, still carrying Toffee's backpack carrier on her back.
Her eyes widened as she took in the plush king bed, the separate sitting area with its leather furniture, and the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the city below.
It was just the Boston version of my penthouse, but I thought the normalcy would comfort her.
“Connor, this is... wow,” she breathed, gently setting Toffee's carrier down on the polished hardwood floor. The city lights reflected in her eyes, making my chest tighten inexplicably. “This is too much."
“Nothing's too much for you,” I replied, dropping our bags by the door and crossing to her. I cupped her pretty face in my hands, tilting it up to mine. Her skin was impossibly soft under my calloused fingers, the delicate bones of her jaw so right in my grip. “You deserve every luxury.”
Her face contorted into the most adorable flush. Even after time together, Sierra still blushed at the smallest compliments. It made me want to shower her with them until her entire body turned that same rosy hue.
Toffee meowed impatiently from his carrier, reminding us of his presence. Sierra laughed, the sound light and so perfect in the spacious room.
“Someone's demanding his freedom,” she smiled, kneeling to unzip the carrier.
I watched her as she bent down, the curve of her ass perfectly outlined in her leggings. My fingers itched to grab her hips, to pull her back against me, but I restrained myself, adjusting my pants. There would be time for that later.
Toffee emerged cautiously, whiskers twitching as he surveyed his new territory. He strutted confidently across the room as if he’d been here before, jumping onto the windowsill to observe the city below.
“Let's get him settled,” I suggested, retrieving the luggage dedicated to cat supplies. “Bathroom good for his litter box?” I knew she would be anxious to get him comfortable.
Sierra nodded, already unpacking Toffee's food bowls. “Perfect. He'll be familiar with that.”
We worked together, turning a corner of the expansive bathroom into Toffee's personal domain.
The litter box was tucked discreetly behind the door, and the scratching post was positioned near the window where he could watch the world go by.
Sierra had set up his fancy food and water bowls by the kitchenette.
“Spoiled little prince,” I commented as Sierra opened one of the gourmet cat food containers I'd had delivered. That shit cost more per ounce than most people's dinner, but seeing her smile as she prepared it made it worth every fucking penny.
“Says the man who bought him organic, wild-caught tuna chunks,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement .
I shrugged, unrepentant. “He's important to you. That makes him important to me.”
Her expression softened, and she padded over to me, rising on tiptoes to press a kiss to my jaw. I loved how small she was compared to me; it made every move of hers that much more endearing.
“Thank you for bringing him. For all of this.”
My arms encircled her waist, pulling her against me. “Anything for you. Always.”
I pulled Sierra to the sitting area where a room service menu waited on the coffee table.
“Hungry?” I asked, pulling her onto my lap as I flipped open the leather-bound menu. Her weight was negligible, her body fitting perfectly against mine as she scanned the offerings.
“Order whatever you want.”
She nestled against me, scanning the offerings carefully. “Everything looks amazing,” she murmured, her finger tracing down the list of entrées. “The ravioli,” she decided finally, pointing to a lobster-stuffed pasta with a cream sauce. “That looks delicious.”
“Good girl,” I approved, reaching for the phone to place our order. I added a medium-rare steak for myself, sides for us to share, and a bottle of rosé. The sweetness would be perfect for Sierra's palate, and I wanted to celebrate having her here with me, in my world.
After placing the order, I turned my attention back to Sierra, who had curled comfortably against my chest, her fingers absently tracing the tattoos visible beneath the sleeve of my t-shirt. The light touch sent electricity through my veins, making my cock stir further with interest.
“The champagne will be up first,” I told her, stroking her hair. The silky strands tangled deliciously around my fingers. “Then dinner in about forty-five minutes.”
She hummed contentedly, her body warm and pliant against mine. “I still can't believe I'm here with you. In Boston.”
“Believe it,” I murmured, tilting her chin up to look at me.
Her eyes, those incredible eyes that had captivated me from the first moment, gazed up at me with such trust that it made my chest ache.
How the fuck had the planets aligned? This sweet, innocent girl who looked at me like I was her fucking world, who had no idea of the darkness that lived inside me.
“I'm glad you got along with Jax and Adrian,” I rumbled, thumb tracing her lower lip. The plush fullness of it begged to be bitten, to be sucked between my teeth.
“They're nice,” she replied, her breath catching as my hand slid under the hem of her sweater to caress the warm skin of her waist. Her flesh was like silk beneath my rough fingers, the contrast making my cock strain against my pants.
“Adrian's enthusiasm is... infectious.”
“Mmm,” I agreed, only half listening as I explored the silky skin of her stomach, inching higher with each stroke. My hands slid up her ribs, memorizing every part of her. “But now you're all mine.”
A knock at the door interrupted us, and I reluctantly withdrew my hand, setting Sierra gently on the couch beside me. “That'll be the champagne.”
I opened the door to find the server with a silver ice bucket, the ordered bottle, and two crystal flutes on a tray. I tipped him and took the setup, dismissing him with a nod.
Sierra watched with curious eyes as I expertly popped the cork and poured the effervescent pink liquid into the glasses.
“It's so pretty,” she commented as I handed her a flute.
“Sweet, like you,” I smirked, clinking my glass against hers. “To Boston. To you, sweet girl."
She took a small sip, her eyes widening in surprise. “Oh! It's good. I can barely taste the alcohol.”
“That's what makes it dangerous,” I warned with a smile, watching as she took another, longer sip. I was certain she was a lightweight, and I couldn’t help but wonder how she'd be all tipsy and needy.
I set my own glass down, more interested in tasting her than the champagne. Leaning in, I captured her lips with mine, groaning at the sweet, bubbly flavor that lingered there. Her mouth was warm and giving under mine, opening eagerly as my tongue licked inside.
“Delicious,” I breathed against her mouth, taking her glass and setting it beside mine on the table. “But not as delicious as you.”
Her arms wound around my neck as I deepened the kiss, my tongue tangling with hers with strokes that made her whimper.
I pulled her back onto my lap, positioning her so she straddled me, her thighs spread wide over mine. Even through our clothes, I could feel the heat of her little pussy against my hardening cock.
“You’re hungry,” she gasped as I trailed kisses down her throat, my hands sliding beneath her sweater again, this time moving higher to cup her perfect breasts through her bra. The mounds were soft and round beneath my palms, carved just for my hands.
“I've been thinking about getting my hands on you all fucking day,” I growled, nipping at her ear.
Her entire body trembled against mine, so responsive to my every touch. “Watching you on that plane, laughing with Adrian, being so goddamn perfect, do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Her hips shifted restlessly against mine, her body responding instinctively to my words, my touch. I could feel her heat through our clothes and knew she was wet for me already. The memory of her slick pussy last night made my cock throb painfully.
“No,” she answered shyly, her voice breathy and eager.
“You make me fucking crazy,” I growled, tugging her sweater up and over her head in one motion. Her bra was simple cotton, pale lavender and sweet, just like her.
“Everything about you. Your pretty smile. Your laugh. The way you blush when I compliment you. The little sounds you make when I touch you.”
I unhooked her bra, sliding it down her arms to reveal her breasts. Her pretty dusky nipples hardened under my gaze.
“These perfect breasts,” I continued, cupping them worshipfully. The way they fit in my palms made me need her so fucking badly. My thumbs brushed over her hardening nipples, the contrast between her body and my size making my cock only hurt more.
She moaned, arching into my touch, her head falling back to expose the elegant line of her throat. I took advantage, kissing and nipping my way down to her collarbone while my hands continued their exploration of her tits. I could spend hours just tasting every inch of her.
“I'm going to make you feel so good,” I promised, lifting her easily and laying her back on the couch.
I hovered over her, drinking in the sight of her flushed face, her parted lips, her bare breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath.
The sight of her spread out beneath me, half-naked and wanting, drove me wild.