Page 172 of Rules of Association

And to his credit, he did. Spreading my legs open wider, he eased his shoulders back slightly, ducking his head so he could see me. Slowly, he let his fingers trace the lines of my most intimate features, his eyes tracking every second of it. Finally, when I began to writhe with need, he slipped a finger inside, both of us sucking in air at the sensation.

One finger and I was full. And then there was his voice, all rumbly and throaty and different than I’d ever heard it before. “Fucking perfect, Ceci.”

My body tingled at the praise, my warm flesh gripping onto his finger as I savored the first seconds of him in me. But he wasn’t moving and no matter how much of it he thought I had, I really was never good at patience.

Wrapping my hands around his big wrist, I held on and started to move my hips until I could finally feel the sweet attention I was begging for. Throwing my head back again, I groaned at the fullness of his finger brushing inside me. Connor’s eyes went glassy as he watched me ride his hand.

“That’s so fucking hot,” he let out in a gruff whisper.

When he laid a staying hand on my hip, I thought he was going to stop me again, but instead he was holding me still, wrapping a hand around the top of my thigh to hold me open. And then adding another thick digit to the mix.

I was panting and moaning and begging in seconds. The need in my clit beginning to feel like life or death. And then all of a sudden he was touching me there too. Flicking me with his thumb and pumping me with his fingers and pulling at me with his mouth and I felt myself climbing and climbing this invisible ledge that I wanted so badly to be pushed off. My skin hot, my heart beating, my legs shaking.

I think I lost air when I felt the press of another finger at my opening. I tensed up, my arms tightening around Connor, limp and jellylike.

“Too much,” I panted as I squirmed away from the stretch of his big fingers.

“Mmm,” he hummed onto my lips. “Just two?”

“Yes, please.”

“You’re gonna need more than that to get ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“For me,” he said.

And then he was lowering to his knees in front of me. I was speechless as he lined his face up with my sex, no hesitation as he used his palms along my thighs to spread me out wide in front of him. I couldn't imagine what I looked like staring down at him from where I sat on a dirty tire wheel, but I could see what he looked like. And all I could describe it as was a man starved.

And that’s how he tasted me. Like he'd been waiting his whole life for this one specific thing. His tongue enthusiastic as it lashed out at my flesh. Teasing, sucking, and lapping at my slit in unforgiving, unrelenting motions. His fingers finding their way back to my opening and filling me up so good and full that I didn't even hear myself as I cried out again for more, faster, harder.

Connor's hum reverberated through my whole body as he asked, “How about now, honey?"

"Okay," I whimpered and immediately cried out as that third finger entered me, joining the others as he continued pumping me and sucking me and cleaning me up as I spilled more over. I nearly fell apart right then and there.

“Connor,” I said, my voice a warning cry as I felt a tightening, convulsing pressure settle over me. Building me higher, so high that I knew I was soon to be tumbling down. My next words were a plea. “Connor I’m about to—”

He doubled down. Sucking on my swollen, sensitive nub in a hard, sloppy pull as he speared me with his fingers in quick, slapping thrusts. I lost control of my whole body as tremors rocked through me and I cried out as I exploded. Warmth enveloped the entirety of me as I wracked with shudders, convulsing as I splintered all over him. The groan he let out was so deep and growly, you would have thought he’d just exploded too.

“Mmm, so fucking good, Ceci,” he said as he stroked me down slowly from my release. “Good fucking job.”

Giving me one last intimate kiss down there, he started to make his way back up to my level. Kissing my legs and my hips. Righting my panties and my bra as he did. Holding me up as I started to sag in exhaustion and pure bonelessness. His mouth slanting over mine and kissing me roughly as his hands softened to coax every last residual shiver and shake out of me.

Slowly, my mind and my soul began to return to my body. I felt as loose as the sand underneath us, threatening to float away with the slightest breeze.

And it was nice…

Until the common sense I left suspended up in the air came slapping back into me like a fucking whip.

Me and Con had gone there. We had goneeverywhere. His mouth, his body, his hands had been all over me and it all felt amazing and destined to be andso damn right. And that was so damn terrifying because it meant it could be all the more devastating with what this could do to us. Everything that happened before could be explained away or reasoned to some degree, but this? How did friends come back from this? How could“friends”produce something so atomic in the first place? It confused me how something so fundamentally wrong could feel so right.

Half-naked and panting, I clung to him. Not like before when I’d wanted his hands on every part of me, seeking the pleasure he was so readily giving. But in a near desperate sort of way, my face buried into his shoulder, my heartbeat never coming down for a break. I felt nauseous, felt nervous, felt dread.

Connor rubbed my back. “You okay?”

I squeezed him tighter, afraid to look up at him. Afraid to look into his eyes and see something I wasn’t ready to see.

His slow hands moved in circles along my skin. Trailing up to my neck and then to my hair. I felt his chest rumble as if he would speak, but he didn’t. That happened three times, him trying to find something to say but each time coming up short. Each time it solidified the dread in my stomach. The knowing that we had just made a horrible mistake.

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