Page 65 of Better Late Than Never

When he broke away, his eyes were on fire. “How do, um…” He swallowed. “How do you like it?”

“Any way I can get it.” I ran my palms down his shaking arms. “I really like it from behind. Can’t kiss, but it means you can get all kinds of leverage.”

The whimper that slipped past his lips made my whole body hot.

“What about prep?” he asked.

I half-shrugged. “I don’t need much.”

He searched my eyes, then grinned. “All right. Let me get a condom.”

As he reached for the nightstand, I sat up. “Did you ever do anal before? Topping, I mean?”

Glancing over his shoulder, he asked, “With my ex?”

I nodded.

So did he. “Yeah, she liked it sometimes. So I’ve, um, I know how to prep and go slow and all that.”

“Okay. Okay, good.”

Connor wasn’t kidding when he said he knew how to prep and go slow. He did them both, making out with me as I lay on my back while he was on his side, and he took his sweet fucking time. I didn’t even know if he was trying to be absolutely sure I was ready for him, or if he just enjoyed winding me up. Maybe that was some payback for the first time I’d topped him. Either way, mission accomplished, because I was a pleading, toe-curling wreck by the time he finally relented.

I was trembling as I got up on my hands and knees. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to hold myself up, but I wasn’t worried—the alternative was going all the way down to the mattress and letting him plow me until I couldn’t see straight. Win-win.

Though I was more than ready for him, he still pushed in painfully slowly, and I was almost completely sure it was to tease me this time. The dead giveaway was when I tried to rock back and encourage him deeper, and he gripped my hips tightly as he gave a sexy, evil chuckle.

“You are such a bastard,” I said through my teeth.

“Uh-huh.” He eased in another fraction of a millimeter, because fuck him. “Does that mean you want me to stop?”

“It means I want you to stop fucking around and?—”

Connor slammed into me so hard, my breath lodged in my throat. I almost collapsed onto my forearms, and I was genuinely surprised I didn’t come.

“Oh my God,” I murmured.

“Better?” he asked with a grin in his voice.

I managed something in the ballpark of a yes, and he started pulling out slowly. I closed my eyes, my heart pounding as I waited to find out if I’d be treated to another punishing thrust or glacially slow slide in.

Turned out—both.

He rocked in and out slowly a few times, making me dizzy with need. About the time I’d fallen into that blissfully languid pace, he thrust in so hard italmosthurt. Again. Then one more time for good measure. And… he was back to slow and steady. Deep and hard. Slow and steady. Every time I got used to one speed, he’d switch, and all I could do was moan and beg for more.

Connor ran a hand up my back. “So when you say this position means a lot of leverage,” he whispered. “Does that mean you like it hard?”

“Very.”

The laugh was both soft and wicked, but there was nothing soft about the way he gripped my hips. “Does that mean you want it hardnow?”

“Yes. Please.”

Oh, God. He didn’t hold back. At all. One or two hard thrusts was one thing; this was one after the other, relentless, and it wasperfect. I braced a hand against the headboard to keep me upright, and Connor pounded into me hard enough it was difficult to draw a breath.

“This—is this too much?” he panted.

“N-no.” I almost choked on my voice. “It’s—Jesus, it’s so good.”

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