Page 69 of Text Appeal

Guess he gets frustrated with my favorite dress. Because I hear stitches tearing as he shoves it down my arms and over my hips. I will absolutely take the damage up with him later. But, for now, I am too turned on to care.

He doesn’t say a word. Guess he’s done with talking. With one arm around my back and the other beneath my knees, he sweeps me up into his arms. As if I weigh no more than a feather. Such a romance hero move.

Through the kitchen and into his bedroom. There are no lights on back here. But the moon is high and shining brightly. Along with a million or so stars scattered across the sky. He was right about them being spectacular. Ever so carefully, he lays me down on his bed. However, he doesn’t follow me onto the mattress. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark. To find him standing there staring down on me. I think he enjoys positions of power. And moonlight and shadows suit him just fine.

Slow and easy might work for him. But I need more now. It takes some wriggling around to undo my bra. But I get there. Guess Connor receives the message, because he skates his palms up the length of my legs. Not stopping until he reaches my Brazilian briefs. With a finger hooked on either side, he tugs them off and I’m bare. His gaze doesn’t move from between my legs the whole time. And the stiff outline of his cock beneath his boxer briefs seems to grow longer and thicker. Whatever he’s hiding under there is sizable.

Of course, he pauses to inspect my underwear, dangling the tangle of lace from his fingers. “What do we have here?”

“Connor…”

“Fuck you smell good. I could get high off the scent of your sweet pussy for days.”

“Come here.”

He cocks his head. “Seems I like some sweet things after all.”

Talk about a whole-body blush. Though it’s not like he can tell in the low lighting. It’s a little embarrassing, but whatever makes him happy. And it’s not like he doesn’t go straight to my head in all the ways. In a first for tonight, my underwear doesn’t get thrown aside. He places them almost reverently on the bedside table. Which is all nice and well, but the man really needs to focus.

“Hurry,” I say.

And he nods.

No thought is given to his own underwear. He simply pushes his briefs down his legs before stepping out of them. Then he searches the drawer for a condom, tears open the packet, and rolls it on. His capable hands make quick work of the job.

It’s hard to see much in the low light. But the feral glint in his eyes as he crawls between my legs is thrilling as fuck. The heat radiating off him is intense. My thighs cradle his hips as he holds his weight on one elbow. His mouth finds mine and his hand grips my breast. Back and forth, the pad of his thumb brushes over my hard nipple, making me shiver. Happiness is his tongue in my mouth and his hands on my body. Everything he does hits me straight between the thighs.

We kiss until I’m light-headed and dizzy. The hard length of his cock teasing the lips of my sex all the while. Sliding back and forth against my opening and driving me wild. I couldn’t be any wetter if I tried. I could cry for the need to have him fill me. To ease the horrible empty ache. But his hand settles on my neck, fingers gripping just so, holding me down to tell me he’s the one in control. No amount of squirming can maneuver him inside of me. And when my hand heads in the direction of his dick, he gives me that feral grin again and grabs my wrist.

Who is making that petulant whining noise? It can’t possibly be me. How embarrassing.

Of course he’s a control freak in bed. I love it and hate it in equal measures. My hands are anchored above my head, and he smacks my pussy with the flat of his palm. Holy hell, do I gasp. The shock of the sting is everything. Then his mouth attaches to the side of my breast. He licks the skin before sucking hard. Such a clever fucking mouth and hands he has. Because while this is going on, his calloused thumb rubs carefully on either side of my clit.

I can’t think for all the throbbing. Like my body is a raw nerve he knows how to play. Any minute now I’m going to explode. I have needed to come this badly approximately never.However, proving he is a complete and utter asshole, he stops short of giving me what I need.

And he accused me of being a serial killer.

I shudder and moan beneath him. However, he just gives me what I now know to be an evil grin. For shame. He should have warned me he was into edging. Which is not to say I wouldn’t still be exactly where I am. But manners matter and it would have been polite to say something. To give a girl warning. And I am going to tell him as much as soon as I am no longer overwhelmed and out of my mind and have remembered how to speak.

Meanwhile, his feverishly hot mouth is busy tracing a path. Up my neck and over my jaw and back to my mouth. My wrists push against his hold but it’s no good. Connor is more than strong enough to keep me in place. Though there is perhaps salvation in sight. He reaches down to grip his cock and lines up the head with my core. Fuck yes. Finally. Back and forth, he draws the thick, blunt head through the lips of my sex. Everything low in my body draws tight in anticipation.

There’s no finesse to him now. No cleverness or delaying. He shoves the long length into me. Like his dick is a goddamn battering ram knocking down a door. The sudden stretch of his thick hard-on inside me is a hell of a shock. All those little muscles in my sex spasm, and the way he groans into my ear. Like he’s the one barely hanging on. And it’s this guttural sound that hits me between the thighs and works for me to no end.

“You’re so hot and wet.” He presses the side of his face into my hair. “Fucking hell, Blue.”

I am this close to replying when he starts to move. When he grips the outside of my thigh, angling me just so, and proceedsto fuck me into his mattress. He’s all brute force and destruction as he slams himself into me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s broken down doors with his dick. But one thing I am certain of—the outline of my ass and back will be embedded in his bed for all time. And holy shit do I love it.

Our sweat-slick bodies move together. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the quiet of the night. Every muscle in him is straining as he thrusts into me. I wrap my legs around him and hold on for the ride, raising my pelvis to take him deep inside. My wrists have been freed. All the better to scratch his back and tug his hair and urge him on. Harder. Faster. Each stroke of his cock draws the tension between my hips tighter. Sensation sits at the base of my spine. So much feeling spreading out into each and every corner. No part of me is left untouched. It’s sharp and bright and ruins me completely when it hits.

I shout out and the sound echoes through the house and rings in my ears. My arms and legs wrap tightly around him. Like I’m afraid he might try to get away. But his hips buck against me, and he groans as he comes before collapsing on my chest. His chest heaves as he catches his breath. And tiny tremors have the muscles spasming in my sex. Little earthquakes keeping me from finding my feet and regaining my equilibrium. I knew sex with him would be good. This, however, is on a whole other level.

A post-coital silence settles in, punctuated by our heavy breaths and the beating of our hearts. It’s so strange the way I feel sparkly and numb and tired and happy and concerned at the same time.

He oh so carefully pulls out of me, holding the condom in place. Then he sits back on his heels, kneeling between my legs.A disheveled hero in supplication to my sex. That’s what I would name a statue of him. He ties off the prophylactic, climbs off the bed, and heads into the bathroom. All without a single word.

Someone has to say something. The quiet is killing me. But there’s no way I’m going to talk first. And anyway, it’s good for him to practice his communication skills. By being cowardly and not going first, I am in fact doing him a favor. So there.

The water turns on in the shower. He still hasn’t said anything. There’s no way he could have thought the sex was bad. I am still lying here shook. Literally. My knees are shaking like jelly. No, he can’t possibly have thought it was shit.

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