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I agree, and we reminisce for a bit before I go to pack up my scant belongings. By the time Conor’s car pulls up outside, I have everything packed, and I’m only a little nervous about this next step in my life.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Mom, I’ve got to go,” I say, hanging up when I hear the sound of the front door opening.
A moment later, Conor calls out, “Babe, I’m home.” A goofy grin lights up my face at simply hearing his voice. The last couple of days have been absolute bliss. I took some leave from the cafe to allow myself time to move in and get settled.
Since Conor refuses to let me pay rent or bills, I’ve been repaying him in home-cooked dinners and sex. It’s been perfect. I’ve never smiled more or felt more carefree.
“In here,” I shout from the kitchen as I pull a casserole out of the oven.
“Mmm, something smells delicious.”
I grin at him over my shoulder before lifting the lid off the casserole dish. Steam billows out, and I hurriedly replace it, leaving the food to cool while I greet Conor.
“How was your day?” I murmur against his lips before he silences me with a possessive kiss. His hands grip my hips in a bruising hold.
“Better now that I’m with you.”
My heart melts at his sweet words, and whatever blood is left pumping throughout my body shoots directly south at the heat in his eyes.
I yelp as he lifts me onto the counter, nudging my legs apart with his hips as he shimmies between them and slowly pushes up my dress.
“Conor,” I gasp in shock. “We can’t. Dinner is ready.”
“It can wait another fifteen minutes,” he says, uncaring. “I’m hungry enough for a starter, and there’s only one thing I want to eat.”
My core tightens at his filthy words. I’m already so turned-on, and he’s hardly touched me yet. He hitches my dress up to my waist, his eyes locked on the scrap of fabric covering my pussy. I lift my hips when he taps me on the thigh, enabling him to pull them over my ass and down my legs, where they are then discarded on the kitchen floor.
“I’ve thought about nothing but this cunt all day,” Conor murmurs as he flattens me against the countertop.
Resting on my elbows, I watch as he leans in and licks a scorching hot trail along my slit. I stare, enthralled, as he coaxes soft moans from my lips, working my body into a cyclone of desire. Screaming his name, I come all over his tongue.
I’m still breathing heavily as I come down from my release, when he stands up and unbuckles his belt. Pushing down his slacks, he frees his hardened cock and pumps himself while he uses his teeth to rip open a condom packet. Rolling the condom on, he lines up and slides home.
Still fully dressed in his suit, he’s a sight for sore eyes as his vibrant green eyes lock on mine. He holds me captive with his gaze as he fucks my pussy until I see stars.
Feeling like the princess in a smutty fairytale, I can’t help but think I could get used to a life like this.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Conor whispers in my ear as he pulls out a chair for me at the restaurant. It’s another upscale place, and as usual, all eyes were on Conor and I as we walked through the restaurant. I still find it strange, but I’m growing used to having spectators when we’re out in public.
Admittedly, that’s not often. Most of the time, we prefer to stay at home, cuddling up on the sofa or spending the day in bed, naked. But once a week, Conor drags me out to a fancy restaurant, claiming he wants to show me off. How can a girl say no when he looks at me the way he does and says please in that irresistible accent of his?
Sliding into the seat beside me, he takes my hand in his, stroking the backs of my fingers while we peruse the menu.
Halfway through our meal, his phone goes off in his pocket and he excuses himself to answer it. As soon as he’s out of sight, some leggy blonde woman who I’d bet my left tit is a lingerie model because regular women don’t look like she does, steals his seat.
“So you’re Conor’s new flavor of the month,” she drawls as her eyes rake over me, finding me wanting based on the wrinkle of her nose.
“Excuse me?” I glance around us nervously, hoping Conor will hurry up and return.
“You’re not his usual type. Too…”—she taps her finger against her lip as she searches for the right word—“innocent.” She waves a manicured hand at my face. “He’ll be sick of that doe-eyed look in no time, honey, so don’t go getting attached.”
“I’m sorry, who did you say you were?”
I may have been raised to be polite and hold my tongue, except I’m sure as shit not going to let some stranger talk to me like that.
The woman smirks. “Don’t worry. You won’t be around long enough to need to know my name. He’ll chew you up and spit you out in no time. Men like Conor need women who present more of a… challenge.”
