Page 76 of Kiss and Tell
My hands tangled themselves in his hair without conscious thought, needing more. He gave it to me, going harder and faster, thrusting and licking and sucking and nipping until my muscles all locked up and I flew over the edge with a silent scream, back bowed and eyes wide and unseeing as fireworks shot across my vision.
He kept going, ceaseless and unrelenting, until I had to yank at his hair to make him stop, the pleasure turning to pain as the sensations became too much. I collapsed down onto the sofa cushions as my tensed muscles became jelly. I slumped there, breathing heavily, letting out short, sporadic moans as the aftershocks zipped through me.
I was still shaking when Connor crawled back onto the sofa and cuddled me to his chest. He gave me a soft kiss and I could taste myself on him. It was erotically thrilling.
“You’re amazing,” I panted as I snuggled down.
He kissed my forehead softly.
I let my thoughts wander, feeling warm and safe. I hadn’t expected to feel safe in Connor’s arms. Every moment spent with him was a risk. A risk to my career, my reputation.
But I couldn’t make myself regret my decision. Not when I was lying in his arms. Not after that mind-blowing orgasm. Not after he’d shared something so personal, so painful, with me.
Connor’s lips were pressed sweetly to the hair on the top of my head. I thought I heard him inhale deeply, taking in the smell of my vanilla shampoo. I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one obsessed with my partner’s intoxicating scent.
“That was amazing,” I said sleepily. “Thank you.”
Connor tipped my chin up to meet his eyes.
“Did you think we’re done?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Uh—” I said dumbly.
“I don’t recall hearing you scream,” he said matter-of-factly. "I believe that was the deal, wasn’t it?”
My insides fluttered.
“Again?” I asked weakly.
“And again and again,” he agreed. “Until I get what I want.”
Connor tumbled me back down onto the sofa so I was under him, legs splayed to either side. My inner walls clenched and ached as his eyes glimmered with a wicked heat.
“I’m not going to stop until you’re screaming my name.”
Twenty-Four
Unlike that morningat the hotel, this time I woke up before Connor. I left him asleep in bed and slipped into the t-shirt he’d been wearing last night and a pair of clean boxers I found in a drawer. His shirtless chest rose and fell as he breathed, slow and shallow. The sheets were tangled around his hips and legs, but his feet stuck out. I had the urge to tickle them, but I decided to be nice and leave the bedroom to make coffee.
Connor had one of those machines with the coffee pods. It wasn’t the brand I was used to, but I figured it out. While I waited for the coffee to pour, I sat at the kitchen table and thought back to last night.
I couldn’t stop a silly smile from crossing my lips.
Connor had made good on his promise, bringing me to orgasm again and again, until I was doing exactly what he wanted — screaming his name. By the end I’d been a puddle of goo. All I could remember was strong arms lifting me from the sofa and gently placing me on the bed. There were no other memories.
But the ones I had were more than enough.
I wrapped my arms around myself to contain a happy little wiggle. It was immature of me, but I wanted to squeal out loud like a sappy tween with a crush on the cute boy next door. Connor brought out the twelve year old girl inside me.
I glimpsed at the clock on the wall, knowing that it was late morning but unable to bring myself to care. I was supposed to be working on-site today at the bar, so no one was expecting me to be in the office. I would have been up earlier anyway, but Connor had thoroughly worn me out. I’d needed the rest.
The coffee finished brewing, so I picked up both mugs and took them to the bedroom. I perched on the edge of the bed on Connor’s side and put his coffee on the nightstand. I sipped at mine as I watched the muscles in his face twitch, slowly waking to the smell of coffee wafting into his nose.
His eyes blinked open then squeezed shut at the bright sun shining through the curtains. His nose wrinkled in distaste, clearly not ready to be awake. His lids parted again, carefully this time.
The disgruntled expression on his face was too cute. I swooped down and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. His eyes flew open.
“Good morning,” I said brightly.
