I don’t hesitate this time. This time I wrap my hand around the base of his shaft, holding it steady so I can take him into my mouth. Relaxing my jaw, I drag my tongue over the engorged head of his cock, pulling him in as deep as I can.
“Henley…” He says my name softly, his voice thick and tight. “Jesus.” He makes a sound, low in the back of his throat, drawing my gaze to his face. He’s looking down at me, mouth parted, chest moving rapidly with each shallow breath. Gaze locked on his, I start to move, licking and sucking his cock, the salty taste of his pre-cum filling my mouth, spurring me on. Making me hungry for more.
Watching me, he reaches down to find my free hand. Taking it in his, he guides it up the inside of my thigh, pressing my fingers to my throbbing pussy. Pushing my fingers past my slick, swollen folds to tease my entrance. Showing me what he wants.
Again, I don’t hesitate. I look up at him as I stroke my fingers into my eager pussy, moaning softy around his cock while I work it against the back of my throat. Licking and sucking. Working and pumping the parts of him I can’t fit in my mouth in my fist. Grinding the heel of my hand against the top of my mound. Pumping my fingers in and out of my wet slit. Setting a hungry rhythm neither of us can take for long.
He’s still looking at me, gaze dull. Jaw clenched tight. Chest heaving. Hands in my hair, finger tight against my scalp, holding my head steady while he fucks my mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of my throat with each shallow thrust.
“Shit.” He barely breathes it, the hands in my hair untangling themselves to push me back onto the bed again. “I want to fuck you.” Skimming down my sides, his fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, yanking them down my legs with a rough jerk. Settling himself between my thighs, he raises himself on his hands to hover over me. “I want to come all over you.” I feel the blunt head of his cock pushing against me and I whimper in anticipation, raising my hips off the bed to take him inside. He responds by pressing the wide palm of his hand against my belly, pushing me down and I moan softly in frustration. “I want to come inside you.” He rubs himself against my swollen clit. Slides between my juice-slicked folds, coating himself in my arousal. Teasing me until I feel like I’m on fire. Until I’m so frenzied, so out-of-control, that I’m reaching between us to grip his cock. Put it where I want it.
Catching me by the wrist before I can make contact, he gives me that cocky, knowing grin of his. “Nope…” he whispers. “That’s my job.”
Gaze locked on mine, he lifts my hand to his mouth, slips my fingers past him lips, sucking them clean of my juices. I know the moment my taste hits his tongue. Watch his eyes darken and dull. Feel the involuntary thrust of his hips against mine. The heavy jerk of his rock-hard cock between my thighs, the head of it twitching against my hungry entrance.
Breathless, I watch him pull my fingers from his mouth before raising my hand above my head to hold it in place.
My free hand is resting on my belly and it starts to creep downward, the back of my fingers brushing against the head of his cock like it’s taken on a life of its own. “Henley.” It comes out on a low growl, his jaw tight, clenched against a groan. “Don’t.”
Ignoring his warning, I turn my hand over and reach further to trail my fingers over the hot, throbbing vein that runs the length of his shaft, following it from base to tip. I tease his weeping slit. Trace my fingertips along the head of his cock, following the curve of its rim before lifting my fingers to my open mouth. Licking their tips, I taste him the way he tasted me.
He doesn’t say anything else, just watches me. Eyes dark. Shoulders tense. Jaw tight.
Waiting.
Somehow, I know what he wants and I give it to him. Pulling my fingers from my mouth, I raise my free hand above my head, offering it to him. He stacks my hands, clamping his fingers tight around my wrists.
Holding me down.
Keeping me with him.
I want him to. Need him to take away the choice, so it’s not mine to make. I want him to make it impossible for me to leave.
I need him to make me stay.
Because as long as I’m here, as long as I’m with him, I’m free.
“Shhh…” he says softly, stroking into me so slow and deep I have to push back against the moan building in my throat, the size and feel of him inside me nearly enough to knock it loose.
“This is how it should’ve been.” Braced on his elbow, mouth hovering above mine, his dips his head to trace his tongue along my upper lip, licking at the freckle that straddles my lip line, near the corner of my mouth. “Exactly like this…” He lifts his head, so he can watch me, his hips moving against mine, each stroke of him inside me so excruciatingly tender, so perfectly right, I feel tears prickling behind my eyelids, hot and salty.
Rearing up as far as I can, I lift my head to press my mouth to his chest, the wild thump of his heart beating against my lips.
My heart.
“I love you, Conner,” I say it softly, lifting my chin to find his mouth with mine, wrists straining against the hold he has on me. “I always have.” The last of it come out on a shuddering sigh when I feel his hand wrap around my hip, tilting my pelvis, angling me against him so he can fuck me deeper, each thrust stretching me. Filling me. Hitting me just right. The calloused pad of his thumb circling and teasing my hot, juice-slicked clit, over and over, until I feel it. The tightening in my belly. The slow spread of heat up the length of my spine.
“Stay with me.”
It’s the last thing he says to me before his mouth covers mine, swallowing the sounds of my orgasm, giving me the sounds of his own.
Stay with me.