Page 14 of Connor (Total Sinners #2)

She was so fucking wrong. I grabbed her by the hair and shoved my cock down her throat. She gagged, choking instantly, but I didn’t stop. Didn’t let her breathe.

“Fucking take it,” I growled, thrusting into her mouth, watching the spit leak down her chin, watching her throat bulge.

She whimpered around me, moaning, drool dripping onto the sheets. The brunette spread her legs beside us, fingers slipping into her soaked pussy, moaning as she watched. “God, you’re using her like a fuckdoll,” she panted. “Bet she loves it, don’t you, baby?”

The blonde whined around my cock, nodding, eyes glassy.

I pulled out with a wet, messy pop, spit and precum glistening on her swollen lips.

“Get on all fours,” I snapped.

She obeyed, panting, trembling, ass in the air, soaking fucking wet. The brunette moaned, crawling behind her, spreading her ass open with her fingers and looking between her legs where her friend’s pussy was already clenching with need.

“Fuck, she’s dripping,” she murmured, licking a filthy stripe up her friend’s slit. “Mmm, I think she’s ready for your cock.”

I grabbed the blonde’s hips and slammed inside. She screamed, the sound wrecked, broken, perfect. The brunette shuddered, licking her friend’s pussy as I fucked her, moaning as she tasted the mess I was making of her.

“Jesus fuck—” the girl underneath us gasped, voice strangled. “You’re—Jesus, you’re gonna fucking split me in half.”

I didn’t let up. I fucked harder. Ruthless, brutal, tearing her apart. She clawed at the sheets, her body shaking, moaning into the pillow as her friend ate her out.

“You like it rough, baby?” the brunette cooed, fingers slipping between the blonde’s legs, rubbing her swollen clit. “You like getting used like a little fucktoy?”

The other girl wailed , body clenching, writhing, breaking. I clenched my jaw, waiting for it. Waiting for that fire, that pull, that inevitable rush. But it wasn’t happening. I snarled, furious.

The blonde moaned, then she twisted her head and looked at me.

“Come in my ass,” she panted suddenly. “I want you to fucking ruin me.”

I froze. The words hit me like a fucking bullet, lodging deep, ripping something open.

I had a condom on. But, I’d only done it once with Summer and never again.

I spread her cheeks and spat on her asshole, watching my spit slide down her pucker and to her pussy lips, watching as she trembled beneath me, her breath hitching as I pushed a finger inside.

My thoughts stuck on Summer. On the kid growing in her stomach.

I snapped. I grabbed the blonde, shoved her onto her stomach, pinned her wrists to the bed. She moaned, rubbing her cheek against the sheets like she loved being handled. I grabbed the lube from the nightstand, spat in my palm, spread her open, forced my fingers inside her tight hole.

She shivered. Moaned. “God, you’re stretching me—”

I lined up. Shoved inside. And she screamed, her body going rigid, trembling, shaking. And then—finally. That pull. That heat. That goddamn fucking release. I snarled, thrusting deeper, harder, hips slapping against her until she sobbed against the sheets.

“Fuck, you’re breaking me,” she whimpered, clenching, choking on moans.

I barely heard her. Because at that moment—it wasn’t her. It was Summer. It was her body under me, her moans, her gasps, her voice begging me not to stop— “Don’t stop, Connor, please don’t stop—”

My breath hitched. My cock throbbed, burned, ached—And then I was coming.

Hard. A violent, mind-numbing explosion that nearly fucking ruined me.

For a second, I let myself believe it. For a second, I let myself think it was her.

And then, it was gone. And she wasn’t there.

I pulled out, ripping the condom off, tossing it in the trash like it meant nothing.

The blonde collapsed, limp, ruined. The brunette whimpered, curling up beside her. “Holy fuck,” she breathed.

I ignored them. Grabbed my jeans and pulled them on.

Already fucking running. Because the second my body stopped shaking, the second my head cleared, the truth hit me like a freight train.

I could fuck a hundred women like this. Could ruin them, wreck them, bury myself in their bodies, fuck them until my bones ached. And it still wouldn’t be her.

Summer was still there, still under my skin, still wrapped around me like a noose. Because no matter how dirty, no matter how fucking reckless, no matter how much I tried to drown in someone else…

It was still her I wanted. And it always fucking would be. The girl didn’t even react, just stretched out across the mattress like she’d done this a hundred times before. Maybe she had. Maybe she didn’t give a fuck.

Neither did I as I returned to North’s place to find him glaring at me from the porch. He looked pissed. I couldn’t give a shit, and I ignored him as he followed me to the bathroom. I had to wash that bitch’s scent off of me.

The pipes rattled, the water coming out in a weak, rust-tinged stream before turning clear.

I stepped under, letting it scald my skin, but I didn’t adjust the temperature.

I scrubbed harder than necessary, dragging my hands over my face, across my chest. Like I could wash away the last few hours.

Like I could scrub away the weight of what I’d done.

But no matter how much steam filled the tiny bathroom, no matter how raw my skin felt by the time I turned the water off—I still felt fucking filthy.

I dried off quickly, wrapped a towel around my waist, and walked back into the room. North was still fucking there. Still glaring. I couldn’t give a shit about him though, so I pulled out my bag and grabbed a pair of pajamas, not even looking at him as I got dressed.

The silence irritated me though, and I snapped before he did. “Would you just fucking say it?”

“What?” he asked, his voice cold. His stare directed at the ceiling. Prickly fucker. “That you’ve been fucking Vic’s sister? Or that you got her pregnant? No, wait… that’s not it.”

I didn’t reply. He wasn’t looking for one.

“Oh, wait! I got it,” he snapped his fingers, “Maybe it’s the fact that you just ran off and fucked someone else like a fucking pussy?

Or the fact that you broke Summer’s heart in my living room?

What do you want me to say, Con? Because I don’t have any fucking words for you right now that explain how fucking angry I am right now. ”

“I fucked up,” I snarled, throwing my towel into the basket in the bathroom. Quinn was scarier than North on any day. I’d prefer to be on her bad side then his. “I fucking know that, okay? I. Fucked. Up.”

“How long?” he asked, and I swallowed hard.

“We started that summer,” I whispered, sitting next to him. I sighed. My body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up. The mattress dipped beneath my weight. He stayed quiet. “During your party. I didn’t know she was a virgin until after. Vic doesn’t know.”

“For fuck’s sake, Con,” he murmured, shaking his head.

I laughed bitterly, knowing what he meant. There wasn’t anything to say though, so I just stared at the ceiling, listening to the sound of my own breathing, and then, her voice crept in. I’m not dealing with you when you’re like this. Not after you hurt me.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Tried to get out of my head, but it wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t fucking stop.

It was the way she’d looked at me, standing in that doorway, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. The way her voice shook when she said it.

I’m pregnant.

And the worst fucking part? I believed her. I did. But I couldn’t go back now. I couldn’t take back the things I’d said, the way I’d laughed in her face, the way I’d ripped her apart when she’d given me nothing but the truth.

“Summer’s as much of a little sister to me as she is to Victor,” North continued, his voice rough. “I’m not happy about how you handled it. It’s too much like—”

My heart squeezed. Too much like my father.

“I know.”

He left then, and I got into bed, remembering the feel of Summer’s fingers when she used to run them through my hair. The pillow was soft, but it wasn’t the same as when her body was pressed against mine.

I turned onto my side, staring at the wall, willing myself to sleep. But sleep didn’t come. Only the ache in my chest. Only the lingering taste of whiskey and regret. Only her voice, repeating over and over in my head.

I’m pregnant.

It felt like I’d slipped over the edge of the cliff and now I was just falling, spiraling, and I didn’t know if I’d ever stop.