She bobbed once, twice…
“Wait,” I breathed as I pulled her upright, stealing the shock from her mouth and kissing her, unhooking her bra, stripping her of her satin panties that I was fucking obsessed with, and tying them around her wrists as I laid her on the bed. “Don’t fucking move, sunshine.”
She didn’t, but we both knew she wasn’t restrained because she was powerless. She was letting me see her like this because she trusted me. That, coupled with the sight of her naked and writhing for me to soothe the need in her body, would be forever imprinted in my mind.
My tongue left a wet trail down her neck, across her collarbone, teeth biting into her shoulder as she curved her legs around me, her breathy moans a symphony.
I continued moving lower, kissing trails down her stomach, to her hips, then settling exactly where I wanted to be. I parted her and swiped my tongue across her clit, and her legs spread wider for me as she whimpered.
There wasn’t any rush as I moved slowly, flicking, sucking gently, not giving her enough, yet.
“Connor,” she pleaded. “Please, I need to come.”
I smiled against her skin, because I had all the time in the world—and she knew it. “Yeah? How bad?”
I licked her once, and her back bowed off the bed. “So bad, please.”
“I like that you’re so needy for me right now, you’re dripping onto my bed,” I whispered, pushing a finger inside her, feeling her walls clamp around me, her fists grabbing the sheets.
She cried out when I added another.
My tongue flicked against her swollen nub as I kept rhythm just the way she liked it.
When her legs started to shake, showing me how close she was, I pulled away and thrust inside her in one punishing movement, desperate to feel her hold on my cock.
Our groans meshed together, filling the room, stars bursting sharp and blinding behind my closed eyes.
“Connor,” she breathed, voice wrecked. Her eyes found mine, blown wide with desire, but there was something else there too. Something that stirred an awareness just out of reach.
Her nails lightly scraped my back, and I almost collapsed at the sensation overtaking my body.
“I’m going to go slow, because I want you to feel all of it. Every inch of me fucking you,” I said, without breaking our connection. “And you’re going to take it all.”
As promised, I didn’t rush. My hands touched every part of her, lips never leaving her skin as I moved deeper and deeper. Her breath hitched with every inch I gave her, keening sounds spilling from her mouth like she couldn’t stop them anymore. I stayed right there with her, forehead pressed to hers, letting the pace stretch until the tension felt almost unbearable, until the space between every movement became its own kind of ache.
“That’s it,” I murmured, voice rough, coaxing rather than commanding. “Stay with me.”
Her body answered before her mouth could, hips lifting instinctively, chasing the contact as if she couldn’t help herself. I felt it everywhere—the way she held on, the way she trusted me not to rush, not to take more than she was ready to give. My hands skimmed over her sides, her ribs, her shoulders, grounding us both.
Learning the lines of her like I hadn’t already memorized them, my thumbs traced slow paths around her hips that made her shiver beneath me. Every reaction felt amplified at this pace—the way her breath stuttered, the way her fingers dug in a little harder, holding me tighter.
I moved with her, letting the feeling stretch until the want turned heavy and heady, until it sat low in my gut and throbbed with every quiet sound she made. She tipped her head back, throat exposed, chest rising fast now, and I knew then that this was more.
“Look at me,” I said softly. “I need to see you.”
Her eyes fluttered open and locked onto mine, darkened and glassy, and that awareness I’d felt before sharpened into something undeniable. She wasn’t just chasing release. She was letting herself feel all of it, giving me control and being fully vulnerable with me.
I kissed her slow and deep, stealing her breath, giving it back in pieces, drawing the moment out until her whole body wastrembling beneath me, wound tight and aching for more. There it was, building between us, that pressure, that inevitability.
Every breath she took was mine to feel, every quiet sound threading straight through me, pulling tighter and tighter.
Her forehead pressed into my shoulder, her mouth open against my skin as if she couldn’t decide whether to breathe or say my name.
When it finally tipped, it wasn’t explosive so much as consuming—like everything she’d been holding back gave way all at once. She clung to me, body shaking, whispering my name into my skin, and I followed her over the edge, undone by the way she trusted me enough to fall apart right there in my arms.
I stayed there, breathing her in, holding her while the last of the tremors worked their way out of her body. When she finally loosened against me, I padded over to the bathroom and came back to clean her with gentle movements. She watched me the whole time, and that awareness from before lingered like a presence between us.
She smiled at me, and my heart responded. “Are you ready for ice cream now?”
