Page 24 of Conor
I’m breathless and spent, but Conor is just getting started. His fingers glide down and slip inside of me, and he groans at what he’s done to me. He likes me this way. Open and raw and vulnerable to him. And it’s unnerving, but I don’t want it to end. I’m on the verge of telling him how much I want to feel him when he starts to finger fuck me.
“Holy shit.” My nails curl into his back, digging into his flesh. He buries his face in my throat, alternating between inhaling me and sucking at my tender skin. He tortures me for so long that I start to entertain thoughts I shouldn’t. He must do this sort of thing all the time. It’s the only logical explanation for how he could know my body so well.
I don’t want to imagine him with anyone else. In this moment, I don’t want to believe that anyone else ever existed before me. I’ve only been with a few men in my life, a serial monogamist to my core. But none of them knew how to please me. Not like Conor. Not like this.
“Oh, God,” I cry out.
The tension swells deep inside my core again. It’s so intense. I don’t think I can hold back, and that’s what I’m afraid of. My nails scrape up his neck and into his hair, tugging as I arch into him. The orgasm rips through me with all the force and delicacy of a bullet. I’m sore, breathless, and I feel like I just had an exorcism as I lay there panting, unable to move or speak.
Conor draws in a ragged breath and curses as he slides his palm through the sticky mess between my thighs. I watch with heavy eyes as he palms his dick and coats himself in my arousal. It’s the single most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed, and I want to watch him do it again and again.
“Fucking hell,” he rasps. “I have to warn ye, this is probably going to be quick the first time. I haven’t felt a woman’s body in a few years.”
My eyes move over his face, looking for the lie, but it isn’t there. I don’t see it. All I can see is his drugged expression as he maneuvers his body between my thighs and grinds his cock against me.
How could that possibly be true? I saw the way the waitress at the diner threw herself at him. I saw women at the club checking him out. He’s without a doubt one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen, and he’s at a strip club practically every night. I still find it difficult to wrap my mind around what he’s telling me, but when he starts to push inside me and shudders with every inch, I know it’s real.
“Christ, ye’re tight.” He closes his eyes and releases a shaky breath. “Fuck. Am I hurting you?”
I’m fuller than I’ve ever been, but I wouldn’t let him stop now if he wanted to. “No.” I reach up and touch his face. “Give it all to me.”
“Goddamn, woman.” His hips jerk forward, and he eases himself all the way in, using his forearms to balance his body over mine. “I hope ye know what ye got yourself into. I could fecking live inside ye just like this.”
I wrap my arms around his back, and he starts to thrust. His eyes close and his head falls back, and the sounds that rip from his chest are the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. Like I’m torturing him. Like it’s pure torment to be inside of me because it feels so good.
Conor was right that he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Every muscle in his body is drawn tight when he curses again. “Fucks sake—”
The words get lost in a long, lamenting growl that vibrates from deep inside his chest. He’s balls deep inside of me, dick quivering as he floods my body with hot come. There isn’t anything between us. He fucked me raw, and I know when I look up at him, that was his intention.
I also know when he collapses beside me and tells me to give him a few minutes because he has every intention of doing it again… I’m in big trouble.
Iwake to a mess of blonde hair against my chest, and when I glance down, Ivy is still passed out on top of me. She looks peaceful curled against my side, her hand draped over my waist as she uses my bicep for her pillow.
My arm is still wrapped around her too, and it’s an odd feeling to have, being so comfortable with her already. I’ve made a habit of avoiding relationships and even sex since Sammy betrayed me. I’ve been content to keep myself busy with the brotherhood, and being the new guy, I was never short on shite to do.
Ivy is the first woman I’ve even wanted to feel wrapped around my dick since I climbed out of the dark hole Brady’s death left me in. But lying here with her now, I realize how fecking stupid that is. She isn’t here because she wants to be. She’s here because she has no other choice. I would do well to remember that before I go and get myself tangled up in her.
Ivy hasn’t accepted her fate without a fight. I’ve seen it in her eyes, the questions in the back of her mind. How long she can survive here until she leaves. There is still a part of her making contingency plans. She hasn’t yet figured out how this works, and when she runs, I will give chase. I will track her down and drag her back here, only to have her hate me in the end.
For a few hours, I allowed myself to buy into the fantasy of what Crow said. But this isn’t a ready-made family. We aren’t two people who met and came together because we wanted this. Our situation is forced, and we can’t transform that into something authentic. For Ivy, I will always be another captor.
When she opens her eyes and looks up at me with a sleepy, shy smile, I can’t deny that I want to change our fates. She could warm my bed every night, and I could fuck her until my dick gives out. But I need to be realistic. I need to establish boundaries. And I need to do it now.
“Last night was really grand.” I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. “I think we both needed that.”
Sensing where I’m going with this, she withdraws her hand and untangles herself from my body. I choke down the part of me that wants to tug her back into me.
“It’s probably best we don’t make a habit of it. I don’t want things to get complicated.” It’s as stupid of an explanation as it sounds like, and Ivy’s face falls the moment I say it.
“Right,” she mumbles. “It probably wasn’t the best idea. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s on me,” I say gruffly. “You did nothing wrong. I just don’t want the lines to get blurred.”
She gives me a stiff nod, and I don’t know why it feels like I’m digging a deeper hole. I don’t need to give her any further explanation, but I want to. Only, the words don’t come. So, we lay there in stilted silence, and slowly, she pulls further and further away, and I feel the loss of her all the way down to my dick that’s gone soft.
“I guess I should take a shower,” I tell her.
“Okay,” she agrees, her voice uneven. “No problem.”
