Exactly the same way his hips move back and then collide with mine again so slowly, almost cautiously, as if he’s somehow afraid of hurting me, even after what we did last night. Maybe because of what we did last night. Maybe because he thought he hurt me.
Is that what he thinks?
That would explain that flash of uncertainty, the brief hesitation in his eyes before he entered me.
I tear my mouth away from him and take his face between my palms, ensuring that he’s meeting my gaze. “Don’t worry about hurting me, Connor. Whatever you need to give me, I can take it.”
He squeezes his eyes closed and his lips move, but I can’t make out what he’s muttering to himself. When he reopens them, the fire burning across the dark onyx is enough to make my heart skip a beat.
There is danger in his gaze.
A warning much like the ones he’s given me verbally to stay the hell away from him…
But it’s far too late for that.
We’re trapped up here together, forced together through some sick twist of fate and by the choices we’ve made—whether right or wrong.
He seems to accept that fact as he rolls his hips back and drives into me again just as slowly as before, arching his hips up when he’s embedded all the way to the hilt to grind his pelvis against my clit in precisely the way I like it.
I gasp, shifting my hands down to his shoulders and digging my nails into his hard muscles there. His mouth finds that spot behind my ear and his tongue slowly slides across the skin before his lips move over it again, licking and sucking, making my body tremble as he continues his torturously languid pace.
With my first orgasm only just beginning to fade, the new one starts to build, that heat centered at my core, where we’re connected, where we move together so effortlessly that it feels like we’ve been doing this together forever. As if we were meant to lock together this way and perfectly complete some puzzle.
What would have happened if we had done this that night?
If he had been my first?
If it had been like this?
Tears start to well in my eyes, and I blink them away, hoping he won’t see the evidence of my sudden emotionally vulnerable moment, but one starts to trickle down the corner of my temple.
Connor freezes, reaching up to brush it away with his rough fingertips. “Why are you crying?”
I squeeze my eyes closed and shake my head. “I’m not.” Please, just let it go. “I just…I need you to move.”
Faster.
Harder.
Not this…
It’s too close to doing something other than fucking.
It’s too close to doing something I’ve never done with anyone.
His low, ominous chuckle is enough to make that slight twinge of fear return. “I’m sure you do, Firefly.”
But he resumes his slow pace, sliding one hand under me to lift my ass and adjust the angle slightly in a way that intensifies the friction against my clit tenfold.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
I shake my head back and forth. Fighting through the intensity of the pleasure coursing through me. Fighting against the intensity of the feelings overwhelming me.
Connor chuckles as my words echo around the small cabin, and then his pace increases. Only infinitesimally. But enough that my body responds, my hips rolling faster, the heat building more intensely until my entire body is on fire—my skin searing, every muscle burning and tensing in anticipation.
He drops his head, feathering his lips over mine. “Are you going to come on my cock again, Firefly?”
Holy shit.
