Page 39

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

VICTORIA

“Hey, sleepy girl.” Conor’s deep voice wakes me. His fingers run along my face, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Do you plan to sleep all day?”

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but I could sleep for days. Forcing my eyes open, I glance over Conor’s chest to find the other side of the bed empty. “Where’s Elena?”

“She got up a couple of hours ago,” he informs me, continuing to stroke my face. “She made me promise not to wake you for a while, because you ‘really needed to get some sleep.’”

I don’t argue; I can’t. I barely slept for days, terrified he’d wake—or worse—while I was sleeping. “You scared me, Conor.” I try to sound strong, but my voice is small and vulnerable.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He tightens his hold on me and presses his lips to my forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I thought I’d lost you.” I shift on the bed to meet his gaze, but when my eyes meet his, I find myself at a loss for words.

“Never,” he exhales, cupping my face with both hands. “I could never hurt you like that. Your heart is safe with me, cailín dáigh. ”

I close my eyes, trying to hide my tears from him. Only to have him pull me closer and press his full lips against my pursed ones. It’s soft and tender, silently emphasizing his promise. Pulling back ever so slightly, I open my eyes to find his deep blue pools staring back at me. “Always.” His promise vibrates against my lips as he pulls me back to him. “I’d crawl through hell and fight the devil for you, because you’re mine .”

My lips crash against his—probably harder than they should—but I need him. He kisses me back with a longing like nothing I have felt before. His tongue plunders my mouth as his fingers lace through my tangled locks, pulling me so hard against his mouth it hurts.

“You're mine,” he growls, his lips dragging over my jaw and down my neck. His large hands wrap around my waist, and he grimaces as he pulls me on top of him until I’m straddling his hips.

He grinds me over his hard length beneath me, and I gasp, “Are you sure?”

“I’m not asking,” he grits. Gathering the fabric from the crotch of my leggings into both his fists, he tears a hole in them to provide him access to me. “You need this. You need to feel me. To know this is real. That I’m here.”

He fists his cock and lifts it upright as he urges me to raise my hips with his other hand. Aligning himself at my entrance, he drags me over his thick length. “Mine… Never fucking leaving you.”

“Promise?” I cry, tears trickling down my face as I bury his cock inside me. I ride him slowly, savoring the feel of him filling me as his gaze bores through my soul. “Forever?”

Instead of answering, he slaps my ass, the spank echoing around the room as moves my hips to ride him. I hold the pace he’s asking of me, slow and deliberate, yet quickly hurtling me toward the edge. His hands roam over my body—dusting over my skin and palming my breasts beneath my shirt—as I ride him. They continue up to my neck, and his fingers wrap around it ever so gently, leaving me wanting more.

“I submit… to you…” I pant through the labored breaths of my quickly approaching release. “I’m yours.”

“My girl,” he croons, tightening his grip around my throat. “Ride my cock and let go for me. Let me see you lose control.”

Leaning into his hold around my neck, I ride him hard. Repeatedly impaling myself on every inch of him. I rub my fingers over my clit, desperate to give him what he’s asking for. What he’s demanding. What he knows I need. My orgasm comes hard and fast, firing through me like a bolt of lightning. Flying from my mouth with a scream as I crumple onto Conor.

Fisting my hair, he pulls me up to his mouth. He kisses me hard before tearing me away with his grip in my locks. “Fuck me,” he grits. “Or I’m going to bend you over this bed and tear every fucking stitch I have, fucking you until I fill your tight little cunt, marking it as mine.”

“It’s yours,” I husk, struggling to ride him but needing to obey nonetheless. “Because I’m yours.”

My palms planted against the mattress beside his face, I slide myself over his cock. Pain radiates around my scalp as he repeatedly pulls at my hair, demanding my stare and pace. “That’s it,” he pants his praise, tightening his hold. “Just like that. Keep bouncing that perfect arse for me. Show me how you fuck when you’re unbridled.”

“Fuck… Conor…” I cry, pain and bliss both fighting for control.

“Fucking come for me.” Conor fights a grimace. “I want to feel you spasming around me when I come.” He drags me back to his mouth and claims mine with the same need that I’m riding him. As though my body has no say, I do exactly what he’s asking. The pleasure building in my stomach detonates, shattering me. My whole body shakes, and I fist the sheets beneath us. I groan my pleasure into Conor’s mouth, feeling him grow more rigid inside me.

My pussy spasms as my body struggles with the wave of pleasure, and it’s his undoing. His cock twitches, and his guttural moans rattle from his lungs into mine—filling me with both his breath and his release.

Both of us breathless, I slide from his body and nuzzle against him as I try to catch my breath. “You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are when you let go.” Conor struggles to catch his own breath and is clearly in pain. “Seeing you submit… I would’ve given anything for the pleasure.”

Sliding my hand gently over the bandages covering his side, I whisper, “You nearly did.”