11. Connor #3
My whole body longs to be closer to him. It’s willing him, just an inch closer, another inch….
A weight settles on my waist over the blanket. I look down to find Connor’s hand resting there.
“Is this okay?”
Yes, God, yes. All I manage is a hum in response.
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
He shuffles closer until his bare chest is pressed against my back. There’s a layer of cotton between us, but I know he’s naked from the waist up. He hooks his arm more firmly around my middle and pulls me closer until his nose is buried in my hair.
“Connor,” I let out a weak protest.
“A little friendly spooning,” he whispers into the back of my head.
I laugh through my nose. “Do you spoon your teammates, too?”
“No. But Smitty did spoon me in his sleep once.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Nah. No point embarrassing the guy.”
I swallow. Jealousy rising at the thought of some hockey player spooning him. “Did you like it?”
“‘Course not.”
“Why not?”
I feel him shrug. He starts nosing at my hair before answering. “He’s not my type. ”
I swallow again. The sound is too loud. “What is your type?”
A pause before he answers. “Not sure.” He starts drawing circles on my chest over my t-shirt. My eyelids flutter. “Just know what it’s not.”
His thumb brushes over my nipple through the shirt and I gasp.
The sound acts as an invitation for him to press himself closer, hold me tighter.
His erection pressing insistently against my ass.
If the gasp didn’t give away how turned on I am, then the sigh that follows leaves nothing to the imagination.
Connor starts kissing my hair.
I have to stop him. But every reason why I should tell him to stop escapes me. Why do I want to stop feeling this good? Why do I want Connor Ryan to stop kissing my hair and rubbing his cock against my ass?
Quick, find a reason. “I’m all sweaty,” I whisper.
“Don’t care.”
I push back, letting my body take over for a second. He groans as he grinds his cock against me.
“I like your sweat,” he whispers.
I sigh again, letting my head fall back.
Connor brushes his lips down the back of my neck and keeps going until he can suck on the curve of skin where my neck meets my shoulder.
We shouldn’t be doing this. I should tell him to stop.
But it feels so good, it just…. He rolls his hips, his erection pressing into my crack through the shorts. A moan rips through me and I gasp.
“Stop.”
His whole body freezes.
We’re both panting. Sweat has my t-shirt stuck to my body. My cock throbs with the need to be touched. Connor stopped when I asked, but his hand is fisted in my shirt and his body is still pressed tightly against me.
“Tell me what you need,” he says into my hair.
It’s different from what he asked me last time, Tell me what you want.
When he words it like this— need —it feels different. Feels … I don’t know, less selfish.
“I need …” I know we won’t be interrupted in here, that my dad probably wouldn’t be roused even by the fire alarm, and that knowledge is terrifying.
Makes it feel like I’m tottering on the edge of a cliff.
Stones flaking off around my feet. And Connor’s behind me, holding me by the shirt, making sure I don’t fall.
He’s patient, his hand over my heart as it thuds like it’s about to break out of my chest. He strokes me with his thumb, planting tiny, innocent kisses in my hair. Waiting.
“I need to feel good.”
I expect him to maul me the second I admit it, but he doesn’t.
He stills for a second before sliding his hand down to my stomach and lifting my shirt.
My hot skin sings as it’s exposed to the cool air from the fan.
My breath stutters as Connor’s fingers spread out over my bare skin and his lips find my neck again.
“I wanna make you feel good, Eli.”
“Oh, God,” I sigh.
“You deserve that.”
I roll my hips in time with him rutting against me. My eyes closed. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle seeing him do this to me.
“You, too.”
He sighs against my neck and I swear I feel him bite his lip as he grinds against me. I hook my leg over his thighs and give into the delicious friction .
“Connor,” I whisper, bringing my arm around to bury my hand in his hair. He moans against my neck.
I could come like this. Connor thrusting against me in his underwear, his hands and mouth on me, his smell in my nostrils. But I need more. If this is going to be the only time, I need more of him.
“Please.”
“Tell me.”
“Touch me, please.”
He doesn’t make me elaborate, just brushes his hand down my sweaty stomach until he reaches the waistband of my shorts and hooks his thumb in.
“Sure?” he asks, sliding his thumb over the sensitive skin under the waistband. The way his skin brushes mine makes my eyes roll.
“Mm.”
I shuffle and lift my hips to help him pull my shorts down just under my butt. He slips his hand under my boxers and squeezes my bare ass.
“Fuck, Eli.”
It makes my head swim to think I’m turning Connor on. That my body is the cause for that rock hard erection pressing against me.
He kisses my neck, licks the clammy skin. I love having his saliva on me, love the thought of him tasting the salt on my skin.
He pulls my boxers down further, the elastic getting stuck on my clammy thighs.
“I’m so sweaty, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I love it. Your skin smells fucking amazing.”
He gives one more tug on my shorts and my cock springs free. The second his hand wraps around the base, I moan.
“Shh. ”
“It’s okay, he won’t hear us,” I tell him breathlessly, fisting his hair. I’m so far gone, even if my dad hasn’t taken his usual sleeping pill, I couldn’t care less.
I slide my hand between us and stroke his cock through his underwear, lingering on the tip where a wet patch blooms through the fabric.
Connor hisses. Knowing I made him do that makes my head swim.
He tries to stroke me, but his hand gets stuck. We’re too clammy.
I kick the sheets off, and when he sees what I’m trying to do, Connor breaks away and throws the sheet on the floor.
For a moment, I’m exposed. My cock out, my shorts pulled down somewhere in the middle of my thighs. My t-shirt bunched up and drenched in sweat. But the way Connor looks at me tells me I don’t need to be embarrassed.
“Fuck, Eli.”
Before I can react, he’s tugging at my shorts and pulling me along with them. He laughs and stops what he’s doing.
“Wait.” The headboard acts as a good anchor as I grip on tight and let Connor finish undressing me from the waist down. The cool air from the fan feels amazing on my bare skin.
“You,” I say, toeing his boxers. As good as he looks tenting his tight, grey Calvin’s, cock leaking through the fabric, I can only imagine how good he looks naked.
He doesn’t need any further coaxing. In another moment, he’s hooking his thumbs in the waistband and pulling his boxers down to his knees.
I bite my lip at the sight of Connor Ryan in all his naked glory. His broad chest tapering to a slim waist, the V-shape fully exposed, the plume of thick, dark pubic hair and the impressive cock standing erect, long and thick with a bead of precum glistening at the tip.
“Holy shit.”
He looks down at me with a sexy smile, running his hands over his abs. “I’m not as lean as I was when I was training.”
“Are you shitting me right now?”
He cocks an eyebrow, looking almost shy.
“If you were a picture on my phone, I’d think you were AI.”
He snorts. “This—off,” he says, tugging at my t-shirt.
Something about him communicating in little more than grunts turns me on more than I can say.
Connor’s chest heaves as he looks down at me, his lips parted. His tongue snakes out as his eyes meet mine and my breath catches.
I keep waiting for him to run out of patience. For him to show me that he’s just horny, and I’m here. A naked and willing body.
But when he comes down to join me, he does so slowly. Resting his elbows either side of my head and looking at me before he kisses me. He lowers his hips enough for his cock to brush against mine. Our breath catches at the same time as we sigh into each other’s mouths.
The fan still spreads delicious, cool air over my skin as I wrap my legs around Connor’s waist. He takes it as an invitation and presses his whole body against mine. I moan into his mouth at the contact.
He pulls away only to brush his lips across my cheek and down my neck. His hips grind in a lazy motion between my legs. My skin starts to overheat despite the fan. When I brush my fingers through Connor’s hair, it’s drenched in sweat .
I let myself be greedy. Do it for the lonely, nerdy kid who wanted Connor Ryan so badly he would have done anything for even a fraction of this.
I hold on, gripping his shoulders as he thrusts his hips, his cock and chest sliding against mine. Still clammy, still unbelievably hot.
“Connor.”
“Tell me what you want and I’ll do it. Anything.”
“Condom, drawer.”
His hips still and he looks down at me.
The hesitation stops me in my tracks. “If you want to….”
“I want to,” he says, brushing my sweaty hair off my face. “Sure you want to?”
I nod. “I’m not a virgin.”
He growls. “Don’t make me jealous.”
I blow out a disbelieving laugh. He’s seriously jealous? “I’m sure they won’t have anything on you.”
“No pressure.” He cocks an eyebrow.
“Trust me.”
His eyes soften. Does he know how impossible it would be for him to do anything wrong? How he’ll automatically be the most memorable sex of my life because it’s him?
He brushes the softest kiss anyone’s ever given me across my lips before coming up onto his knees to open the drawer.
My heart pounds as I watch him rifle through the nightstand for a condom. Is there anything in there I don’t want him to see? When was the last time I went through it?