Chapter Thirty-Two
Sierra
C onnor’s hand rested on my knee as I sat perched on the counter, my legs swinging idly as I watched him move around the kitchen.
The smell of frying bacon filled the air, mingling with the fried eggs he was cooking.
His presence was magnetic, commanding even when doing something as mundane as cooking breakfast. Toffee was hanging out by the windows, clearly disgusted with us.
Connor glanced over at me, his eyes softening in a way that made my stomach flutter. “You’re too far away,” he murmured, stepping closer and sliding his hand up my thigh until his fingers brushed the hem of my oversized shirt. “Stay right here, where I can keep an eye on you.”
I laughed softly, though it came out a little breathless under the weight of his gaze. “I’m literally one foot away from you.”
“Not close enough,” he growled, his tone serious.
He turned back to the stove, but his hand remained on my leg, his thumb tracing lazy circles against my skin as if to remind me that I was his and that he wasn’t letting me go anytime soon.
I tried not to read too much into it. Connor was always protective and touchy, but there was something different about him this morning. He hadn’t let me out of arm’s reach since we’d woken up tangled together in bed. Not that I’d minded. If anything, I found his possessiveness endearing.
Still, it was hard to ignore the way his grip tightened slightly whenever I shifted or how his eyes lingered on me like he was afraid I might disappear.
The bacon sizzled in the pan, and Connor expertly flipped each strip before cracking two more eggs into another skillet.
The yolks spread out like tiny suns against the hot surface, and I couldn’t help but smile at how domestic it all felt.
This quiet moment in the kitchen after our morning left me feeling closer to him than ever before.
“Are you always this good at multitasking?” I teased, leaning back on my palms and watching as he reached for a plate to transfer the bacon.
He smirked without looking up. “When it comes to taking care of you? Always.”
My cheeks heated, and I ducked my head to hide my smile. Connor had a way of saying things that left me flustered and warm all over, like he wasn’t just speaking but making promises with every word.
A soft knock sounded at the door, breaking the momentary silence. Connor’s head snapped toward it, his entire body tensing like a predator sensing an intruder. His hand slid from my leg as he strode toward the door with measured steps, glancing back at me once before opening it.
“Mara,” he greeted curtly. She carried a small paper bag in one hand and gave him a nod before her sharp eyes flicked to me.
“Morning,” she said briskly, handing Connor the bag. “Fresh croissants and pastries from that bakery you like. ”
“Oh! Thank you!” I said brightly, smiling up at her.
Mara’s expression softened slightly, just enough to be noticeable, before she turned her attention back to Connor.
“Everything’s clear outside,” she reported in a low voice meant only for him. “No unusual activity.”
Connor nodded once, his jaw tightening briefly, before he dismissed her with a quiet “Thanks.” As soon as she left, he locked the door behind her and returned to my side, reclaiming his spot between my knees.
“Croissants?” I asked lightly, both excited and trying to ease some of the tension radiating off him. He reached into the bag and pulled one out for me, holding it up to my lips instead of handing it over.
“Eat,” he ordered softly.
I scrunched my nose playfully but took a bite anyway, savoring the buttery flakiness as it melted on my tongue. Connor watched me intently as if gauging whether or not I’d eaten enough before nodding in satisfaction and taking a bite himself.
“You’re being extra clingy today,” I teased once I’d finished chewing. “Not that I’m complaining.”
His eyes darkened slightly at my words, but instead of responding right away, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead—a lingering touch that sent warmth spreading through my chest.
“Just making sure you’re okay,” he replied finally, his voice low and rough.
“I’m fine,” I assured, reaching up to cup his cheek. His longer stubble scratched against my palm as he turned into the touch like he couldn’t help himself. “Better than fine.” Between my legs was sore, but I could live with it, knowing the connection it represented.
Relief softened his expression, mixed with something deeper that I couldn’t quite place, but he kissed me again before I could ask about it. This time, it wasn’t soft or fleeting; it was consuming in a way that made my toes curl against the cupboard below me.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing heavily, and I could feel his heart pounding against mine where our bodies pressed together. He rested his forehead against mine before stepping back to finish plating breakfast.
We ate together at the kitchen island, Connor standing between my knees because apparently, sitting would be putting more distance between us than he was willing to allow.
By the time we finished eating and cleared away the dishes, it was clear that whatever had shifted between us last night wasn’t going away anytime soon.
And honestly? I didn’t want it to.
The day unfolded in a haze of warmth and quiet contentment, punctuated by Connor’s constant presence. His touch, his gaze, his voice.
After breakfast, he refused to let me stray far from him, guiding me from one room to the next with a hand on my waist or the small of my back. His possessiveness was obvious but not suffocating; it was protective, keeping me tethered to him in the safest way possible.
I attributed it to our first time this morning, learning each other fully, and the tenderness that seemed to have deepened between us since then.
Connor had insisted I rest after breakfast, carrying me to the couch in the living room and settling me against his chest as I showed him some of the décor I’d ordered.
Toffee curled up at my feet, his tiny snores filling the space as Connor’s fingers traced idle patterns along my arm. Every so often, he would press a kiss to my temple or murmur something sweet under his breath. little reassurances that kept everything in me calm.
By midday, I was feeling more myself, though there was still a lingering ache between my thighs that served as a reminder of how thoroughly Connor had claimed me.
As if sensing my discomfort, he asked softly, “Do you need more painkillers, sweet girl?” His voice was gentle but firm, his concern etched into every syllable.
I shook my head with a small smile. “I’m okay. It’s not too bad.”
Connor didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded anyway, his thumb brushing over my knuckles where our hands were intertwined. “Let me know if that changes,” he ordered, looking me over.
The afternoon passed in a similar rhythm.
Connor keeping me close, his touch never straying far from my skin.
He guided me through lunch with the same care he’d shown at breakfast, insisting on preparing everything himself while I sat perched on the counter again.
Even when we moved to the balcony later to enjoy the fresh air and stunning view of the city skyline, he kept me within reach.
The sun dipped lower in the sky, painting everything in hues of gold and amber, and Connor pulled me into his lap on one of the oversized armchairs facing the sunset.
He positioned me with my back against his chest, his arms wrapping securely around my waist as he pressed a kiss to the crown of my head.
“It’s pretty,” I murmured, leaning back against him and letting myself relax fully into his embrace. The warmth of his body seeped into mine, chasing away any lingering tension.
“Mmm,” Connor agreed softly, his chin resting on my shoulder as we watched the sun sink beneath the horizon together. The world seemed to slow down in these moments, the distant hum of traffic fading into nothingness as we existed in our own little bubble.
His hands wandered lazily over my body, tracing light touches along my arms before skimming down to rest on my thighs. The intimacy of the gesture sent tingles down my spine despite its gentleness.
Connor’s fingers dipped lower, brushing against the hem of my shirt before sliding beneath it with practiced ease.
“Oh,” I whispered, turning slightly in his arms to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark and intent as they locked onto mine, filled with love and desire .
“Shh,” he murmured against my ear, his voice low and soothing. “Let me touch you.”
I nodded wordlessly, trusting him completely as I settled more firmly against his chest, the heat of him seeping through my thin shirt.
The balcony railing stood just a few feet away, the world spread out beneath us. Sixty floors and the sprawling cityscape just beyond.
Connor's hands moved deliberately along my thighs, pushing up my oversized shirt until it bunched around my waist. The evening breeze whispered across my newly exposed skin, a gentle contrast to the burning heat of his palms as they glided up to trace the edge of my panties.
“Such a good girl,” he growled, his breath hot against my neck. “Look at the sunset while I touch you. Associate every golden sky with coming on my fingers.”
The command in his voice made me nod as I obediently fixed my gaze on the horizon, where the sun was setting behind the clouds in shades of orange. Connor's fingers traced teasing patterns along the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, deliberately avoiding where I needed him most.
The gentle shifting of his hips beneath me revealed his own arousal, the hard length of him pressing insistently against my lower back.
“Connor,” I breathed, arching into his touch as his fingers skimmed tantalizingly close to my center before retreating again. “Touch me.”
“I know you're sore from earlier,” he murmured, his lips brushing over my ear. “Don’t worry about that.”
His words sent a fresh flood of heat between my legs, the memory of him inside of me still vivid in my mind. True to his word, his fingers avoided my tender hole, focusing their attention on the little nub above it.
He circled my clit with exquisite precision, applying just enough pressure to make my breath catch but not enough to push me over the edge .
The sunset's glow bathed us in golden light, warming my skin even as goosebumps rose in the wake of Connor's touch.
His free hand moved to cup my breast through my shirt, thumb brushing over the hardened peak in rhythm with the circles he traced below.
I let my head fall back against his shoulder, completely surrendering to the sensations he was creating.
“So soft,” he breathed, his voice rough with desire. “My sweet, sweet girl.”
Without warning, his mouth descended on the juncture where my neck met my shoulder, teeth grazing the sensitive skin before he licked over it and began sucking. The unexpected sensation combined with the steady pressure on my clit had me moaning, my hips bucking involuntarily against his hand.
His name was a plea on my lips as he increased the pressure, his fingers rubbing firmly over my clit, a pressure that had me climbing rapidly toward release.
“Mine,” he growled against my skin, sucking another mark higher on my neck, one that would be impossible to hide. “Every inch of you is mine.”
The possessive declaration, coupled with the delicious sting of his mouth on my skin and the relentless circles of his fingers, pushed me over the edge.
Another orgasm hit me, my body arching as I cried out, the sound carrying across the open air of the balcony. Connor's arm banded around my waist, securing me against his chest as I trembled and shook.
“That's my good girl,” he praised, his fingers gentling but not stopping, drawing out my pleasure until I was whimpering from the intensity. “Such a good girl, coming apart in my arms with the whole city at your feet.”
As the final pulses of pleasure subsided, I became aware of our surroundings again. The distant honking of cars far below, the fading glow of sunset giving way to twilight, and the first stars beginning to appear in the darkening sky .
Connor's arms cradled me protectively, his lips pressing soft kisses to the marks he'd left on my neck. He continued to hold me, his touch gentle yet possessive as if he couldn’t bear to let go even for a second.
I could feel how deeply Connor loved me. Not just with words or actions but with every fiber of his being. And despite my past of uncertainty, I knew without a doubt that I loved him just as much.