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“Maybe,” I say with a coy look over my shoulder.
His palm hits the plump flesh of my asscheek, and I moan. The sharp burst of pain gives way to pleasure as he lines up the head of his dick with my pussy and starts to push in. I arch my back, trying to take more, but he stops me.
“Patience, Little Bird.”
I groan and watch him smile from the corner of my eye. My face is pressed sideways on the comforter, and he reaches down, grabbing my arms and holding my hands together behind my back.
“Fuck me,” I demand.
And he does. Holding my wrists with one hand, he slams into me, over and over. I want to touch my clit or have him touch it, but he doesn’t. He takes his pleasure with his own delicious moans.
Each thrust causes my nipples to rub against the bed, keeping them hard and sending little bursts of bliss through my body.
“Fuck, Wryn,” he says. The words are a guttural sound from his throat, and they set my body on fire.
My hands are clenched into fists behind me, and his grip grows tighter with each noise I make.
“Grab the cover.”
He releases my hands, and I do what he said.
His hands spread my cheeks gently, and he spits right in between them. The warm fluid drips down my seam. He catches it with a finger, spreading it around my forbidden hole. He rakes his free hand down my back in a calming gesture. I arch into his touch. And he pushes the tip of his finger in, a little at a time. His hips are moving, dragging his cock in and out of me, and each time he pushes in my pussy, he inserts his finger a little more.
I thought I would hate it, but I don’t. The sensation is foreign, but it sends a burst of electricity through my core that has me crying out for more.
Why have I never explored that part of myself?
“I knew you’d like it,” he murmurs, and I’m not even mad at his smug tone.
I push back a little more, taking his finger deeper at the same time his dick hits the right spot inside me.
He keeps a firm hold on my hip, anchoring me as he languidly pumps in and out, and I let the sensations take over my body. They crawl beneath my skin as I sink toward an impending orgasm.
He pulls me back up.
“Open,” he says, grabbing my hand, and I obey. He inserts my pointer finger in my mouth. “Lick.”
I curl my tongue around it, then close my lips, slowly dragging my finger back out with a pop.
“Good girl,” he says. “Now, rub yourself while I fuck you.”
I push my hips up a little more and wiggle one hand between the bed and myself. There’s a frenetic energy in the air. Connor has my body on edge, and I wonder if he’s working out his own tension or if he’s fully here, but the way he’s making me feel tonight has my endorphins running wild.
Could this be the start of moving from lust to something more?
I rub my clit, circling it slowly at first, then faster. My orgasm hits me hard.
“Connor, Connor, Connor,” I say, chanting his name like a prayer, and my body goes stiff. My release blooms from my core, filling me with warmth and then ultimately exhaustion as I fall boneless back against the bed.
Then, Connor pulls out, and I’m empty until he flips me, crawling on top of me. My body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and I run my hands lazily up my stomach and cup my breasts while he watches. He leans down, sucking one nipple into his mouth, and I rise. He tips back, grabbing my ass, and then pushes back into me, holding my legs up.
His body is a work of art, and I feast on it as his muscles ripple with every move. His shoulders bulge, and his biceps contract. I track a droplet of sweat down between the valley of his abs. I want to lick it from his skin.
He pulls out, tearing the condom from his dick, and then fists himself. His pupils are wide as he stares down at me. Drinking me in, the same way I’m doing to him. This has started to become more than fucking. Maybe it’s a way for him to connect. I don’t think he’s had that much in his life. Always having to hold himself apart from others. Were the friends he had in school really friends? Or were they carefully cultivated for what they could give him or what he could do for them?
It’s no way to live, but I realize that my life hasn’t been much better. Outside of Ruby, I never tried to make friends. I was always aware that they could be taken away at any time. Ironic that my only friend was taken from me as well.
I watch Connor stroke himself, twisting a little at the head and then back down. His eyes dart wildly over my body, and I bring my hands up, rubbing my nipples. His tongue peeks out, licking his bottom lip, and then with a jerk that has him bowing over me, his hand dropping to catch himself, he comes down and releases on my stomach and breasts.
