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STAR

I had no right to intrude upon his privacy.

No right whatsoever.

But I slipped into his room with a silence that came from practice, and I moved over to the bathroom where I could hear the shower running.

He’d left with the intention of washing up and catching some Zs, but the second he closed the door behind him, the empty room, a generously proportioned space, had started to close in on me.

Sleeping on the couch hadn’t been on tonight’s agenda, but I’d take it over being alone.

When I walked into the bathroom, I heard him humming one of my dad’s songs.

It figured that the man I was falling for would love the music I’d come to hate. Though, earlier, I had noticed his use of the past tense in regard to his dedication to them.

It made me feel weird, like I was yucking his yum. It wasn’t his fault I knew truths that would break his fanboying heart. So I guessed I’d need to work on that too.

noxxious the band and noxxious the artists were not one and the same. Dad had been a great father before Mom’s death; after, he’d just been trying to get through the days without her.

As an adult, I registered that. Especially one who had crazy feelings for a certain someone who was currently showering in another room. As a kid, I’d been hurting too and I’d missed him just as much as I had Mom.

That was something for me to think about another day, though. Now, I just wanted to reconnect with Conor so I stripped down to nothing and headed into the shower stall.

With his face being blasted by the pounding water as he soaped up, he didn’t register my presence until my front was pressing against his back. When he jolted, I smiled and slid my hands around his abs.

The strength of his muscles astonished me because he was lean and compact, a little like myself. Built to fight, not to weight train, which was the confusing part because Conor was not a fighter.

His brothers, sure, but not him.

“Star?”

“It had better be me.”

He snickered. “Is it okay to turn around?”

“Think I’m afraid of your cock?” I countered.

“I don’t know. Are you?”

It was a valid question, but this was different. This was… I felt in control.

Not answering, I slowly reached for his dick, showing him I wasn’t scared rather than telling him, waiting him out to see if he’d want me to stop.

He didn’t stop me and he was hard.

“Are you all right with me touching you like this?” I whispered.

He rested his forehead on the wall and groaned.

It was nice to know that I had such a dramatic effect on him, and I gave him a slow stroke in thanks before I pumped him faster, tightening my fingers around the tip with every pass.

With my other hand, I turned the water on low, and that enabled me to hear the curse he ground out. His own hands slapped against the tiles in front of him as I systematically tore down his walls just like he did with me.

His hips started to rock, jerking forward to follow the path of my fist, fucking me back, taking the pleasure I was offering and enjoying it—well, if his moans were anything to go by, he was definitely loving what I was doing to him.

My lips curved against the smooth skin of his shoulder as he spat, “What you fucking do to me, Star.” His tone was angry but the words weren’t.

I could tell the difference.

“I want to please you, Conor,” I crooned, my confidence brimming at an all-time high. Feeling myself getting wet, I whispered, “Do you like that?”

“You know I do,” he groaned, his head tipping back. “Nobody else I’d let touch me like this.”

Pleased with his answer, I sped up, clamping around him while I reached down and grabbed his balls.

Rolling them in my fist, I encouraged him to climax. I milked his shaft when he hissed out a curse as his cum pelted the wall, washed away by the gentle spray.

Shocks jolted through his body, making him jerk in my hold, and I finished off with a soft kiss to the center of his back.

A rumbling sound escaped him, one of purring satisfaction that had my pussy clamping down around nothing.

That was when he shifted the narrative.

When he made it so that I was no longer in control.

The water abruptly shut off a second before he twisted around so that our fronts were plastered together.

As I dealt with the fallout from that collision, one where his fading erection bobbed against my belly, where my tits pressed into his muscled chest, he took advantage of my dazedness and stalked forward, gently but inexorably pushing me along until I reached the back wall.

Eyes wide, I stared at him, recognized the replete satisfaction in his expression, and sighed when he gently tugged me down until I landed on the bench there.

When his eyes lit up with a smile that soothed my soul, he dropped to his knees and I watched as he slid both his palms along the outer length of my thighs.

“Are you going to let me taste you, Star?”

I licked my lips. “That wasn’t what this was about.” I didn’t entirely know what it was about, in all fairness, but I hadn’t expected anything in return.

His smile morphed, turned sharp. “No? Don’t you want to feel my lips on your pussy, Star?”

Gulping, I let my eyes lower to that sinful, wicked mouth that was quirking into a deeper grin at my prolonged study of it.

“I-I think we should catch some rest. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

“I’m never too busy for this,” he chided, gently parting my feet and shuffling forward so his knees could settle between them. My inner thighs clamped down so they didn’t spread, and he arched a brow at the sight. “Don’t you want to go to sleep on a high?”

My nostrils flared at the question.

Yes. Yes, I fucking did.

“No fingers,” I rasped.

His eyes narrowed at the request, but he nodded. “Can I spread your legs with my hands?”

“Yes, just…” I swallowed, knowing it didn’t make sense, but stuff didn’t need to make sense for it to be a trigger.

“I won’t finger fuck you,” he promised, seeming to sense that was the source of my unease.

“O-Okay, then,” I agreed.

“Just pleasure, Star, no pain.”

I licked my lips again, repeating, “Just pleasure. No pain.”

His smile was back to being warm, comforting, as he stroked my calves, shifting higher to my knees where he gently began to pry them apart. Pry—because my muscles weren’t obeying.

I blew out a breath as the past and present blurred into a morass of memories I struggled to evade.

This was my time.

My moment.

As he’d said—just pleasure. No pain.

I looked at him, really goddamn looked at him, and thought to myself, This is Conor . He’ll never hurt you. He’ll never, ever find pleasure in making you scared of him, in making you suffer, in exchanging sex for food.

It helped me to let him spread my thighs.

His gaze dropped to my sex, and I knew I was wet and that the slick from my arousal had nothing to do with the water from the shower.

What he saw had him groaning.

His hands moved to my feet and he angled my knees to the side, parting me farther until I was clenching my eyes closed because every inch of me was exposed.

Exposure was something I’d had to adapt to. Nudity was a way of life, but revealing this much of myself without force wasn’t.

He pressed his lips to my knee, trailing them along my inner thigh until he fluttered his tongue in the small, triangular divot where my leg met my groin. His nose ruffled over my mons, the tip trickling along the sparse hair there before he let his mouth meet my pussy.

I jolted like he’d hit me with electricity. Soft sparks buzzed through my veins, leaving me squirming as the soft flesh of lips I’d only kissed for the first time today explored the most intimate part of me with a gentleness I should have expected from him.

He seduced my pussy.

That was the only way I could describe it.

Conor didn’t dive right in; he didn’t ravage me.

He teased me, sure. But it was a slow, charming seduction that saw him nibbling on my pussy lips, that had him circling my clit with his tongue, that made him use the flat of it for maximum surface coverage over my most sensitive area.

He stroked and sucked and licked and kissed until my only fear was suffocating him between my thighs because I wanted to hold him closer, not push him away.

Conor seemed to sense the moment the rightness of this clicked in my head. His wet lips suckled my clit, harder than before. Still soft in comparison to things that had been done to me in the past, but with an intent that was unmistakable—he wanted my pleasure.

The flat of his tongue went to work again, stroking down the sensitive channel to my slit where he thrust inside me, gently circling it so that the nerve-laden entrance quivered at his caress.

“Oh, God, Conor!” I cried hoarsely as his flickering licks drove me up the wall.

When he chuckled, the vibrations shot through me, making my back arch and my ass almost fall off the bench. He grabbed me then but was quick to only get me comfortable before he moved his hands away.

The memories didn’t have time to take over. His mouth returned to my clit and he doubled down on his efforts. The noises he made were a soundtrack that lit me up from the inside out.

He reveled in this.

It wasn’t something he did to get me wet so he could fuck me with ease.

The sounds he released were of a man feasting and enjoying the banquet spread out before him.

With each groan of satisfaction he made, I could feel my body temperature spiking. My hips rocked until I was fucking his face and that was when he growled, “Yes, Star. Yes. Take your pleasure. It’s yours.”

The next second, his lips were back on my clit.

Ecstasy was within reach but too far away from touching—like a wall I needed to breach. I tried to throw myself over it, but it was too high. Then he shaped the small nub with his tongue. Figuratively, I got up and tried to scale the wall again.

I failed.

My breathing grew so fast that I turned lightheaded.

Every time I approached that motherfucking wall, I failed to climb over it.

But Conor never lost patience with me.

His lips had to be numb, but God, the way he feasted, how he savored , it made my heart skip beats it couldn’t afford to skip.

His nose nudged my clit as he retreated to my slit again. When he thrust his tongue into me and I literally was rocking against his face, covering his jaw in my juices, he mumbled, “You taste like mine, Star Sullivan. This tastes like mine. Your pleasure is mine; your cum is mine. I want it. I want it all. Don’t you want to give it to me?” Each sentence was punctuated with a thrust of his tongue or a circle of it, a nudge of my clit, a nip of my pussy lips. And the vibrations from his words had me staring blindly ahead, shivering and quaking, deep judders that quaked through my muscles.

Suddenly, the wall didn’t seem so high.

This time, when I hurled myself at it, I managed to hook my leg over the top.

The next moment, as I free-fell down the other side, I screamed as the ecstasy rattled through me. It made me feel delirious. Overheated and boneless, yet also tense and taken to my limits.

I continued riding his face, and he carried on anointing soft kisses to skin that wept for him.

When I sagged back against the bench, I knew I’d been devoured and I was happy to be his feast.

There really was no better way to end the day than that .