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Letting me see.
I lift my hand, letting my fingertips run the length of them. Across the hard slab of his shoulder. His neck. The wide, muscular plank of his chest. The powerful line of his arm.
Taking them in.
The Celtic love knot inked into the skin of his throat. The Claddagh that spans his entire chest, the heart inverted, the point of it aimed toward his own. The warrior’s sleeve that reaches from shoulder to wrist. The complex mathematical equation that runs along the inside of his bicep.
Trying to accept what he’s showing me.
Understand what it means.
That they’re for me.
That he marked his skin so that every time he looks at himself, he sees me.
Remembers me.
I look up to find him watching me, guarded and wary because he expects me to do what I’ve always done. Push him away. Refuse to let him in.
I lean forward, pressing my mouth to the base of his throat, my lips vibrating with the groan that builds beneath them. I dip lower, skating my tongue over his nipple, nipping it with my teeth and he hisses out a breath, the hands on my hips tighten, digging their fingers into my ass when I lick my way across his chest to press a kiss to the inside of his bicep. “Henley…” he breathes my name, his hips flexing against mine. His hands press me tighter against him, opening the seam of my wet pussy, soaking the front of his track pants with my arousal. My mouth slides along the slope of his shoulder while my hands find the waistband of his pants, working them down enough to free his cock. Palming it, my fingers unable to meet each other around its girth, I give him a long, slow stroke from base to tip.
“Christ.” His head falls back against the chair, hips flexing, pressing against me, deepening the strokes I’m giving him while my tongue licks its way up the length of his throat, teeth grazing his jaw on my way to his ear.
“I want you to fuck me,” I moan, my hand pumping and stroking. Want isn’t what I’m feeling and it isn’t need. It’s a craving. A bone-deep craving that hums and jangles across every nerve-ending I have. Three days ago, I was a virgin with an over active imagination.
Now I can’t get enough of him.
Of this.
Mindless, I raise myself off his lap, against the pressure of his grip, my hand on his cock holding him steady so I can lower myself onto the hard length of him. Before I can get him inside me, he captures me by the wrist and holds it, trapping it behind me. “Please, Conner. I can’t—”
He catches my other hand and pulls it behind my back to join the other, bracketing both of my wrists between his long, callused fingers. My arms captive, he pulls down gently, using the leverage to draw my shoulders together, arching my back to push my breasts higher.
“Now, now, Henley,” he says, his voice low, his words sounding like they’re being dragged across hot asphalt. “Is that any way for a lady to behave?”
As soon as he says it, I feel a full body flush erupt over my skin, covering me from head to toe. Because it isn’t.
Because I’m behaving like a crazed animal.
Because right now, that’s exactly what I am.
An animal.
And I like it.
I moan, my head falling back, chin tipped toward the ceiling, my breath catching in my throat when I feel his hand move between us.
“Ladies are patient.” He slowly traces the seam of my slick, throbbing pussy with this thumb, gathering the arousal I’m practically dripping with.
“Ladies don’t demand.” He slips higher, pushes between my lips to skim light, feathery circles against my clit.
“Ladies aren’t greedy.” He strokes me until I’m shuddering and panting, dangling over the edge. Hips lifting, I rock my hips against the base of his cock. His thumb. The hot, swollen length of him. Any part of him I can reach.
“Ladies don’t fuck.” His tone is tight, and he pulls lower on my wrists in response, pushing my breasts even higher until I can feel his warm, uneven breath against me.
“Conner…” I whimper mindlessly, turned inside out by need and desperation. “Please.”
“Please what?” he says, lifting his hand to brush his wet thumb across my breasts, coating their engorged nipples with my juices. “You know how this works…” He licks and sucks my breasts, drawing their hard tips into his mouth and I start to shake, strung out and needy from the feel of his mouth on me. The throbbing pulse of him between my legs. “You have to ask for what you want, Henley.” His tongue skates around the curve of my breast, leaving a trail of aching desperation in its wake. “Say it…”