Page 66 of Conner's Luna

"Your Uncle Alex signs my checks," I tell him suddenly.

"For the scholarship? Yeah, the CH Foundation is his baby."

"No, he owns the lab. Or, well, I guess Dr. Honekier owns it, but CH Enterprises is the biggest supporter."

Conner smiles. "I'll tell him to give you a raise," he says.

I snort. "I don't really get paid, Conner. I'm a volunteer, although sometimes it feels like more," I say, thinking of Dr. Honekier's special project.

He frowns, "have you been working too much, Babe? I thought you only worked about ten hours a week."

"Mark wants me to start working more hours. On Tuesdays and Thursdays," I explain. "If I work more than eighteen hours I get paid. Mark said he would drive... me..." my voice trails off.

It's like watching a hot-air balloon inflate. I swear Conner's eyes glow green. His hands clench into fists, and his hair looks a bit fluffier.

My own little hairs start doing their static-electricity dance.

Conner pulls me into his chest with such force that the breath whooshes from my body. "No," he growls. His chest is trembling, making a noise that sounds like it's coming straight from his core. "We drive you. Only one of us, understand?"

I squirm against him. "It's not your decision- oomph!" Conner slants his mouth right over mine. This kiss isn't like the one we shared before. It's hot with the hint of pure brutality.

Later I need to examine why that makes my panties so drenched.

"Bailey," Conner whispers gruffly against my mouth. "Damn, I can smell how much you need me." He tips me back onto the bed before I can even register that I'm falling.

"Conner, just friends," I pant, squirming against his palm as he plants it between my legs.

"Just friends," he agrees. His palm presses, the solid weight of it nothing that I've ever tried for myself. Not that I could equal the size of his mitts. They're at least-

"Honeysuckle, stop thinking," he croons. Then he's nipping at the sensitive spot on my neck as his palm keeps drawing circles against my clit. This time it doesn't tickle. Instead, need lights up on the skin that Conner is touching as if he's holding a sparkler on the Fourth.

"Conner, Ineed...please..." I gasp.

"I've got you, beautiful." My pajama pants are gone, along with my panties. I feel the pressure on my clit change, lighten, then something too large to be a finger presses inside me.

"Conner," I whimper. "It's... I don't."

"Shh, Bails. You're so tight, baby. Fuck, your pussy is like a vise. All mine, isn't it? My puffy little puss," My inner walls flutter against the intrusion as he presses deeper. "I'll have to prep you good for my cock, Bailey," he whispers. "Damn, this fresh pussy is more perfect than I expected."

Holy crap. That stick lodged in my vaginaishis finger.

"No," I gasp, "it's too big. Just... just don't stop... me... oh God."

Conner chuckles darkly. It's so sexy that I feel myself drench the bed under me. "Poor baby, are your puffy, pink cunt walls stretched too tight?" He presses, withdraws, presses, all while his thumb strokes the folds hiding my clit. I squirm, wanting the unrelenting thickness out, but needing so much more, too.

"More," I demand, my hips canting upward. My legs fall open, and that's all Conner needs to change his position. Swiftly he recenters his body, his shoulders holding my thighs open.

"So fucking pretty," he mutters against my folds. "Fuck, Bailey, it's pure honey." His mouth presses against me and he moans while I gasp, writhing.

He sits up, ignoring my mewl of complaint. His eyes are hooded, his face twisted into a look of bestial lust. "Shh," his finger pumps a few times, "you have to be quiet, honeysuckle."

I clamp my hand over my mouth obediently. Anything to get his mouth back down there.

"Good girl," he whispers. He bends back down and presses the flat of his tongue against me above his finger.

My cries are muffled as he sucks and licks me. My orgasm is just there, on the edge.

"You need a thick cock, Bailey," Conner says. His voice oozes with masculine satisfaction.

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