Page 47 of Inflict

Connor didn’t even think about it before he had picked her up, taking note that she still felt far too light in his embrace. Cradling her, her head rested against his bare arm as he took careful steps toward his bed. She didn’t wake up once he had her in his bed, and actually, rolled over into his pillow and grasped for whatever was close, which happened to be his blanket.

For a long while, Connor simply stared at the sight in front of him.

Even asleep and so unbothered by the world around her, Evelyn was a classy, sweet lass in his sheets. The sight of her there was a harsh reminder for him that he was nothing more than a man with desires, regardless of the current situation. Her curls spilled over his bed, and his fingers itched to run through them before taking in a handful to grab and pull. It was easier not to react to the beautiful, lost creature in his home when he was focusing on the problems she presented, but right then …

Right then, there was no problem.

Except that he thought she would look feckin’ grand, if he were in the bed with her.

All right, that’s enough of that, you gobshite.

His mental berating did nothing to quell the goddamned erection straining against his boxer-briefs. Evelyn certainly wasn’t a child anymore, and nether was Connor. He blew out a harsh breath, determined to get his mind on the tasks he had to do for the day. With that new train of thought, he headed for the attached bath, not bothering to close the door that separated the bathroom from the bedroom.

Guessing by the way Evelyn was already down for the count, he didn’t think she would be waking up anytime soon.

Connor made quick work of stripping down, still making every feckin’ effort to ignore his hard cock jutting outward as he stepped into the cool spray of the shower. He preferred the water as hot as he could get it, but given his issue, cold water was the way to go.

It didn’t help.

Even after he washed up, the hard-on was still present, and feckin’ with his head. He opted to just glare at his prick, willing it to go down so he could go on with his day and be done with it. That didn’t work either, not that he thought it would.

The world was clearly laughing at his foolish arse again.

Connor decided the only way to get rid of his erection was to take care of the problem and that would be the end of it. With his hand fist-tight at the base of his cock, a heady sense of relief was already started to sweep through his nerves, promising calm was soon to follow.

He certainly had more than enough images to bring to mind as he stroked his length—women he’d been with, random encounters that had ended without even learning his partner’s name. He tended to have a rough hand in bed, he liked the control, and he enjoyed the feeling of a woman’s body when her pleasure mixed with her pain. The sounds he could elicit from a classy mouth before he filled it with his cock could play on repeat in his mind for days.

Except … none of those things came to mind like they usually would. Instead, he was stuck on the woman in his bed, her quiet demeanor and pretty lips set in neither a frown, nor a smile. Doe-eyes and silky hair—freckles and hints of red in her curls.

He wished he could say he thought of nice things, but his mind didn’t work that way when it came to sex. He preferred to be brutal, he liked seeing skin pink from his roughness, and he needed his woman to want more.

Never to find her limit, no.

More.

In the dark, hazy fantasy Connor’s mind conjured up of Evelyn, “more” was the only thing she said. Whispered and soft, in that gasped, pleading way of hers, it was only more.

Before he even realized it, his grip had become damn near painful, but he was too far gone to care or to loosen up. The familiar heat bloomed in his spine, and his semen painted the floor of the shower in ropey streams, his low, guttural groan bouncing off the shower walls.

“Feckin’ hell.”

For a long while, as he caught his breath, Connor did nothing but stand there and watch the steady pulse of water wash away his awful truth. His cock finally softened in his hand, which he supposed was a good thing, except that now he had a bigger problem.

He’d like to make that fantasy a reality.

He was pretty sure that was wrong.

He still didn’t care.

Connor assumed Evelyn would still be sleeping in his bed, since his shower hadn’t lasted that long. The walk-in closet attached to his bedroom was only a short walk across from the attached bath. He walked out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, passing the figure on his bed a glance, expecting her to be the same as he had left her.

She wasn’t.

Connor came to a full stop, his grip on the towel at his waist tightening just in case. Evelyn sat cross-legged on the bed, handfuls of his blankets curled around her fists and pooled at her waist. She wouldn’t let him take that damn white dress and give her something else, so she was still wearing that, though it was clean enough.

Her brow furrowed as her gaze traveled over his figure, exploring in a way she hadn’t bothered to before. Connor stayed still, unsure of what exactly to do. He didn’t need to send her running when she was already like a skittish deer, ready to bolt at the slightest whisper.

“You all right, lass?” Connor asked.