Only breaking away for a second, I strip him of his T-shirt, tracing my fingers over the dark lines of his tattoos. Scratching my short nails up his chest, I stop briefly, plucking at his nipple rings, rendering him capable of only a growl and hip grind as a response. The heat of his body is missed as he pulls away from me.
Pulling at my pants, he opens them with more finesse than I would have thought he was capable of. In the next second, they’re on the floor along with my boxers. The sight of Conner on his knees, stroking me as he looks up at me with hooded and lusty eyes is almost more than I can take. When he pulls me into his mouth, rolls his tongue around the tip of my cock, I push deeper into his throat, needing more of his wet heat. Groaned curses fall from my lips as he lets me fuck his mouth. My hands immediately go to his hair, holding him in place. “Fuck, Con… oh, my God…”
Exhaustion give way to passion. This moment is as necessary as my next breath. Our connection is vital for my survival.
With an audible pop, my dick is freed from his mouth. “Stay right here,” he stands, pummeling my mouth with a hard, hot kiss. He disappears down the narrow hall where I assume his bedroom is. A minute later, he returns, lube and condom in hand – and completely naked.
The sight of his powerful body, of his thick, hard erection, bobbing under its own weight, of his beautifully decorated arms and chest, heightens my desire. The gentle glide of his lube-slickened hand over my dick almost makes me come like some teenager jerking off for the very first time.
I reach down, wrap my hand around his shaft, stroking at the same pace he’s stroking me. Our lips crash together before he sinks his teeth into my lower lip. Laving over the spot he just bit, he then trails his lips over my jaw, down my neck, before sinking his teeth into my neck. He pulls the condom up to his mouth, tearing at it with his teeth. Rolling it over my cock instead of his makes me grow another inch. “You take me this time,” he breathes hotly into my ear, turning us around so that he’s leaned up against the counter.
With one hand, I reach around and stroke his dick, matching the rhythm of my fingertip prodding at his ass. Dripping the slick lube over his tight hole, I push into him, first with one finger, then with two. Pushing against my hand, my name falls like a curse from his mouth. His cock swells in my hand. “If you keep that up,” he pants, pushing against my hand over and over again, “I won’t last much longer.”
I want him to come. I want to be the reason he explodes wildly. I want my name to be the one he screams. But I want all of that to happen with my cock buried deep inside of him. He bends forward, and I grab at his hips, easily gliding into him. “Fuck,” he cries, pushing his weight back onto my throbbing cock.
“So tight,” I grit out, my jaw clenched, holding on to my control by a thread. The heat of our bodies and the sounds of sex fill the room. Voices grunting, skin slapping – it’s all consuming. We build a furious pace, one that I know I won’t be able to maintain for long. The deeper I go, the tighter my grasp on his cock. With a few more hard and erratic thrusts, my legs begin shaking, the sparks of electricity gather at the base of my spine. “Ahhhh… Conner…” his name is dragged out as I come on one hard push.
Not even a second later, I feel the hot jets of his orgasm spurting over my hand. “Oh shit… fuck…” he grunts, fucking my cum-slickened hand. We crumble to the floor in a breathless, sticky mess. His back is to the cabinet, and my back is resting against his chest. With his arms draped over my shoulders, he holds me against him, kissing me on the temple. “I thought you were tired,” I question wryly, enjoying the feel of his laughter move in his chest behind me.
“I’m never too tired for that.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“We should clean up before Rachel gets home.” He peels himself away from the cabinet and up from the floor.
“You might want to wipe that up,” I point to the cabinet next to us and the mess currently sliding down it.
With a laugh, he grabs some cleaner, and wipes up the mess. After the kitchen is back to its pre fucking-Conner-up-against-the-counter status, I gather up our clothes. We take a long hot shower, getting each other good and dirty all over again before we can even think about getting clean.
When I walk into Conner’s room with only a towel twisted around my waist, he gets a hungry look in his eyes. “You can’t seriously havethatmuch stamina,” I joke, but I drop the towel just for a good tease.
“Try me.” He arches an eyebrow as he moves in for a hot kiss. His mouth tastes sweet and minty, leaving me wanting more.
I break away from his lips. “I should get going.”
With an arm wrapped around my waist and one in a death-grip on my ass, he purrs into my neck, “Stay. I’ll get you to work on time,” he promises.
“Are you sure? We only just made up.”
“Twice, actually,” he chuckles against my skin. He digs through his dresser for a pair of shorts and t-shirt for each of us.
He tosses the clothes at me. “Good thing we’re about the same size.”
“Otherwise I’d have to sleep naked.” I return an arched eyebrow and a quirked lip.
“Yeah, that’d be a real tragedy.”
We fall into the bed and prop ourselves up against the headboard. In between commercials on some sitcom rerun, I reach for the remote in between us. “The boys missed you this past weekend,” I say as I turn down the volume. He turns toward me, sliding down the headboard and leaning on one elbow. I roll to my side as well. Resting on an elbow, I stare over at him. “I told them you had to work, that you had just opened your own gym and they were really impressed. They’re all hoping you’ll be back this weekend.”
“And you?”
My legs tangle with his as I reach for his neck with my free hand. Letting my fingers dance in the hair at his nape, I say, “I’d really love it if you came back, too.”
His lips pull into the sexiest of smiles before he yawns. “Then I’ll be there.” Drowsiness falls over him, and before long, he’s rolled over, facing away from me, snoring lightly.
Spooning up behind him, something more meaningful than I can put words to takes root deep in my chest. When he pulls my arm from around his waist, links our fingers together, and pulls our joined hands up against his warm, hard chest, a part of me I thought was gone long ago comes back to life.
Streaks of early morning sun slice through my room. I look over at the clock and curse. “Shit.” I jump out of bed. Stumbling to my feet, I trip over my sneakers. “Fucker.”
