Page 109 of Connectio
“You’re not forcing me to make this choice. It was made long before you came along.”
I close my eyes, praying he’s telling me the truth. “So this is why you never settled down, because you told every woman you dated you didn’t want children?”
“Yes, and no.”
“No?”
He smirks. “None of them were you.”
I can’t help the smile that lights my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“There’s no question here.”
“We’ll never have the fairy tale we deserve.”
Will shakes his head and smiles. “You don’t get it, do you? We can make our own fairy tale, together.”
“But—”
“No buts. You get me, and I get you. We fit. Sometimes it’s a squash—” He looks himself over then gives me a sheepish grin. “—but we fit. Like a pipe to an elbow joint.”
I blink. “A what?”
Sliding his fingers under my arms, he hoists me onto the benchtop and settles between my legs, his hands on my thighs. “Not all pieces that connect are the same.” He tips my chin up. “You’re one piece, and I’m the other.” Leaning forward, he softly pecks my lips. “We’re not the same, but we connect.”
I’m about to tell him he’s the sweetest man I’ve ever known, when he lifts his hand and makes a circle with his thumb and pointer finger and then pokes his other pointer finger inside it, pulling out and repeating the motion several times.
“See?” He grins, all teeth and tenacity. “Connection.”
I push at his chest and laugh. “I’ll give you connection.”
Will growls and reaches around my back, squeezing my arse before sliding my body across the benchtop into his. I gasp, my core a flutter of desire as I lock my ankles behind his back.
Searching his stormy sex eyes, I want to ask one more time if he’s sure I’m worth the sacrifice, but it’s as if he knows what I’m thinking, his pinched expression saying I should shut the hell up and focus on the fact that his cock is now pressing my clit.
Pushing the thought out of my mind, I surrender and rock into him, reaching down to cup my hand over his erection and giving him a light squeeze. He growls again, threads his hand into my hair, and pulls me to his mouth, his kiss hungry as he rocks his cock into the palm of my hand, hard and unapologetic.
Will’s tongue sweeps mine a little faster, a little messier, and all I want is to feel his silky warm skin against mine.
Lifting his T-shirt over his head, I let him take over and remove it while I unbutton the top of my sleep shirt. He tosses his shirt on the floor then coaxes the lapels of mine apart, his fingers skating across my breasts. My nipples peak, and I dig my heels into his arse and grab at the buckle of his jeans, frustrated as I fumble with the zip.
“Off,” I demand, pushing the denim over his arse and down his legs.
Will kisses my neck and nibbles my earlobe, his lips featherlight as he trails them down my body, over my collarbone, and between my breasts, a growl emanating from his throat when his teeth snag the centre of my bra.
“Off,” he mumbles, sliding my shirt from my shoulders as I reach back and unhook the clasp of my bra.
I remove it and lean back on my hands, legs spread, chest bare.
“Fuck me, you’re beautiful,” he says, cupping my breasts
Will rubs the pads of his thumbs over my nipples before leaning down and sucking one into his mouth. My nerve-endings fizzle to life, heat surging my body so fast I almost combust.
Gasping, my head falls back, and I arch into him as he swaps breasts then runs his hands along my thighs, pushing up the hem of my shirt.
“Touch me,” I beg, not recognising my voice or the words coming out of my mouth. I’ve never begged anyone to touch me.
He presses his finger to my clit.
