Page 55 of Kiss and Tell

His eyes flashed with a dark heat.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “I want to hear you say it.”

I knew exactly what he wanted.

“Fuck me,” I begged. “Please.”

With a thrust of his hips, he entered me, piercing me to the core. I groaned at the sensation, at the stretch of his thick length ceaselessly parting my inner walls.

He pulled out then thrust in again, making me cry out. The head of his cock scraped against a sensitive part inside me, causing sparks to shoot through my every nerve ending. Each push and pull sent jolts of pleasure throughout my body, down my limbs to every finger and toe.

Soon, the pressure became too much and I was teetering on the edge. I brought a hand down to play with myself, but Connor was already there. He took my clit between his fingers and thumb, rubbing and kneading and pressing in just the right way and I found release for the second time that night.

My eyes clenched shut and my lips parted in a long, low moan. My inner muscles fluttered and throbbed around Connor’s cock, squeezing him like a vise. He let out a loud curse and crushed his lips to mine as his every muscle tensed up and his body shook violently.

We clung to each other as the pleasure reached soaring heights then slowly abated, letting us come back down to earth until we were slumped next to each other on the bed, limp and spent.

Our breathing began to even out. Connor reached for me, tugging me into his arms. He buried his face in my hair.

“You’re amazing,” he said.

I was so worn out, so overwhelmed with sensations, I couldn’t do more than murmur in response. My eyes wouldn’t stay open. The world was dark and warm, smelling of leather and spice.

Just before I drifted off, a thought tickled my brain, not yet a fully-formed worry, but more of a note of concern.

I now knew what it felt like to kiss Connor. I knew what it felt like to fall apart in his arms. How in the hell would I be able to make myself stay away from now on?

A better questions was: Did I even want to?

Seventeen

I woketo the scent of coffee wafting in the air. I rolled over and buried my face in a pillow, but the enticing smell was enough to rouse me from my groggy state.

I turned my face to the side so as not to smother myself and opened my bleary eyes. I squinted at the sunlight streaming through the parted curtains. Had I slept in? I was usually awake early enough that the sun was still below the horizon.

My eyes flew open as memories from the previous night trickled in.

Connor and his naked chest.

Connor and his lips on mine.

Connor and his mouth preoccupied with other, more intimate, places.

The air whooshed from my lungs. The beginnings of panic began to tear at the corners of my mind, trying to claw their way to the forefront. An alarm blared loudly in my head.

I mentally flicked it off.

Shut up and enjoy this,my body told my mind.

The warmth of the sheets, the pleasurable ache between my legs, and the lingering spicy-sweet taste on my lips helped keep the panic at bay.

I inhaled deeply as I stretched out. My muscles were slightly sore, but I’d thoroughly enjoyed the reason why.

The door to the bedroom opened while I was still in mid-stretch. Connor walked in with two cups in his hand.

“Coffee?” he asked.

I sat up in bed, gathering the sheets around me.