Page 94 of Make Me Mean It

And when my eyes meet his again, the uncertainty I find there has nothing to do with whether he wants this.

It’s everything that wanting it means.

“I just-” Connor’s fingers flex against my chest. “I need-”

He stops, lips pressing together as he looks away, and the hand against my chest curling into my shirt.

I watch him fight with it for another second before my hand comes up, settling against his cheek.

My thumb drags slowly over his cheekbone, and Connor’s eyes lift back to mine.

“Tell me.”

His tongue slips across his bottom lip. My eyes follow it, because I have absolutely no self-control where his mouth is concerned.

“I need something that’s mine,” Connor says.

My thumb stops, the words sinking beneath my ribs.

“Use me,” I breathe.

Connor’s lips part, his eyes snapping to mine.

“You sure?”

“Never have been with you,” I laugh, short and breathless, my gaze dropping to the hand still against my chest.

When I finally look up, he’s watching me so carefully that irritation starts crawling back beneath my skin.

I’ve said yes. I’m still standing here. I’ve practically handed myself to him, and he’s looking at me like he needs to make absolutely certain before he takes anything.

God, just stop talking and do it.”

Connor’s brows lift.

My fingers curl uselessly at my sides. Fucking hell. I’ve never had to ask for this before.

“Please.”

Connor steps fully into my space, eyes locked on mine as his shoe nudges against the inside of my ankle, pushing lightly until I spread my legs and let him move between them.

His hips press flush to mine, the hard line of him dragging against me when he shifts closer. My teeth clamp down on the groan pushing up my throat, but there’s no hiding the way I tense against him, my cock throbbing beneath my jeans as my fingers flex uselessly at my sides.

He watches me, eyes moving over my face while I stand there with my legs spread around him and absolutely no intention of changing my mind.

“Connor,” I growl, impatiently.

His hand closes around my jaw, his mouth finding mine.

I sink into him, opening beneath the first demanding press of his lips, my hands finding his waist.

“What do you want?” he asks against my mouth.

“Fuck me.”

Connor stills, his name halfway up my throat when he pulls away, his eyes flicking between mine.

“That’s-” His brows pull together. “I don’t-” He blows out a frustrated breath. “Fuck. Are you sure?”