Connor doesn’t stop me. Instead, he watches me with nothing less than predatory interest as I draw blood.
“Deeper,” he orders. “You want to make it hurt, sweetheart? Dig deeper.”
“Don’t want it to hurt,” I rasp out. “Just want it to scar.”
He goes still. “What?”
There are times I think that I’m nowhere near as unhinged as Connor Heyward. Then there are times when I wonder if he’s the normal one in this relationship.
This is one of those.
Once I’m satisfied with my handiwork, I lift the knife to my lips. I lap at the blood on the knife the same way I was just licking at the head of his cock. Only when I’ve cleaned the blade of every drop do I meet the stunned look in Connor’s pretty blue eyes.
“What? You showed everyone that I marked your arm with that scar, didn’t you? Now anyone who comes near this cock knows that it also belongs to Haven Smith.”
“Haven Heyward,” he gasps, the moment he gets… really gets… what I mean. “You’re Haven Heyward.”
He has a point.
Now, I’m not about to put a second ‘H’ next to the first; even if no one else will see it, I know better than to mark him like that. I do however use the tip of his pocketknife to add a plus sign, then a ‘C’.
As though he’s a big oak and we’re sweethearts, I carve our initials right next to his dick. And Connor? The second he realizes what I’ve done, he grunts and shoots ropes of semen right into the curtain of hair around my bowed head.
Sitting up, I toss the knife onto the coffee table before checking out the damage.
I pick up a clump of hair, thick with his semen. “Well… that was fun, babe, but I think I need a shower.”
“Uh-uh. No, you don’t. I’m going to lick you clean.”
I raise my eyebrows, showing him the spunk in my hair with a wrinkled nose.
He lets out a husky chuckle. “No, I’m not about to eat my own jizz. Give me some credit, babe. I have something else I’ll use my tongue on.”
My heart jumps. I pull away from Connor, staring up at him. He doesn’t mean… does he?
“Come over here and sit on my face, Haven.”
Oh. Yes.
Hedoes.
“Connor—”
“My wife just claimed me with her mouth. It’ll take a second for me to fuck her the way she deserves, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just sit here and wait for my cock to come back to life. Get your pretty little ass over here and sit on my motherfucking face.”
It’s the way he says that. He’s never given me a direct order in bed before—letting me believe I have all the control—but now that he has… I kind of like it.
Doesn’t mean I’m going to jump to listen to him, but—fuck—am I getting aroused.
It only becomes even more noticeable when his tongue darts out, dabbing the corner of his mouth before he tells me, “Grab the knife.”
I blink.
He nods. “Yeah. You heard me. Grab the knife, Haven. It’s on the coffee table where you put it. Get it.”
When I hesitate, his voice becomes more of a croon.
“I’m not going to carve into your skin like you did to me. One day you’ll wear a ‘C’, but not yet. I still want you to know you’re in absolute control if you let me have this. If you need to say stop, but you can’t do it, stab me in the shoulder. I’ll get the hint. So grab the knife, Haven. Yeah?”
