Page 78 of Make Me Mean It

My fingers flex against his hips, every comment I could make trapped behind my teeth, because I don’t want to win this one.

I just want his mouth back.

“Just don’t stop kissing me,” I groan against his lips.

Fuck pride.

I’ll let him call it nothing if nothing means he keeps doing this.

We crash together, all teeth and tongue and absolutely no patience, chasing each other’s mouths whenever one of us pulls far enough to steal a breath. Connor gives me everything back, kissing me with the same desperate hunger until I can’t tell which one of us is pushing and which one is giving.

“Theo.”

My name catches between us as Connor’s fingers knot deeper into my hair and pull, the sting dragging my head back and ripping a rough breath straight out of me.

“More,” I rasp, pushing into the pull instead of away from it.

Connor stills, his fingers still tangled in my hair as his eyes find mine, hesitation already beginning to creep back into them.

“This means nothing,” he says, eyes searching mine.

I slide my hands up his sides, fingertips brushing warm skin beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

“Uh-huh,” I murmur, nodding as I lean back towards him. “Nothing. Whatever you say, princess.”

My mouth brushes his.

“Just don’t stop.”

I kiss him before he can make me listen to it again.

Connor’s mouth opens beneath mine, the kiss turning messy. I press him harder into the wall, but apparently he’s had enough of that because his hands are suddenly on me and the room shifts.

My back slams into the wall, a breath punching out of me.

Connor crowds me there, and whatever was left of my ability to think goes straight out the window. My fingers knot into his shirt and pull him closer, needing him there before he gets another stupid idea about backing away.

He breaks the kiss, his chest brushing mine with every uneven breath, his hair a mess from my hands, cheeks flushed beneath those blue eyes.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, his eyes lifting to mine.

I brush my thumb over his lip, pulling it free from his teeth, Connor shivering beneath the touch.

“How-”

The word comes out rough, his eyes darting away from mine.

I flip us, putting Connor’s back against the wall. My hands flatten against his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart beneath one palm before my attention slips lower.

Down his stomach. Over his hips.

And stops.

Fuck.

There’s no hiding how hard he is, the thick outline of his cock straining against his jeans, and the sight of it punches straight through whatever restraint I had left.

I drop to my knee, the floor punishing beneath them, but I barely feel it. My hands are already at his jeans, fingers finding the button and popping it open.