She kissed me again, and this time I fell into it, kissing her back with the intensity of my feelings. My hands squeezed her supple ass cheeks, pulling her down on my quickly hardening cock.
Connor moaned, breaking the kiss and gyrating her hips on me. Her thin pajama shorts and my boxers a frustrating barrier, but she seemed to have the same thought. She sat up on me, keeping her beautiful eyes on me as she pulled her tank top off, revealing her bare breasts.
I brought my hand up to cup them, rolling my thumbs over her perky pink nipples. Connor let out another pleasured moan, arching into my touch. I thrust up against her, making my intentions known.
She got a wicked gleam in her irises and rolled her hips, the friction making me hiss with pleasure. Connor leaned forward, kissing me, her hands travelling down my ribs and tugging on the waistband of my boxer briefs.
I lifted my ass, letting her tug them off. Unashamed of how hard she made me; I took pride in how she bit down on her lower lip with a coy look.
She was torturing me, and she not only knew it—she reveled in it.
Connor’s fingers went to her own waistband, and I watched with hunger as she removed her sleep shorts. When she was bare, she straddled me again. This time when she moved her hips with intention, I could feel her wetness sliding up and down my shaft. It damn near brought stars to my eyes.
“Connor…” I said her name as a plea, hoping she’d answer it. She did—lining me up and sinking down on me with one fluid movement. Slipping into her tight, wet channel had my eyes practically rolling in the back of my head. “You feel incredible.”
“So do you,” she murmured before capturing my lips in a kiss. She rocked forward, riding me. I met her thrust for thrust, driving into her like I didn’t have a choice—and I didn’t want one either. If I could spend the rest of my days between Connor’s thighs, I would.
“If you keep riding me like this, I’ll come,” I warned her, feeling the pressure building in my balls.
“That’s kind of the point, Dare,” she teased breathlessly, biting on my bottom lip as she rocked against me again. I could feel her getting wetter and wetter, her orgasm building.
I wrapped my arm around her, moving so I was on top of her. Then I drilled into her, intent on making her come before I blew my load.
Connor arched beneath me, moaning as her orgasm hit her. I kept drilling into her, the pressure in my balls building until I followed her, pushing as deep as I could go before I exploded in a burst of stars.
Her hands ran down my back, and she let out a sigh of contentment. “That was exactly what I needed.” She sighed happily.
“Me too,” I said, a grin easily finding its way to my lips. “So…now that we’ve got that out of our system, what do you want to do today?” I didn’t care what we did, so long as we were together.
“Well, I should get groceries at some point, if I’m going to be staying here this week.”
“Let’s go then.” I squeezed her ass cheek, not wanting to leave the warmth of this bed at all, but in time we’d both want coffee and food.
“People will see us together,” she pointed out.
“So? They’re going to have to get used to it,” I teased, even though her worries echoed mine.
“That’s true.” She nodded, biting down on her lip.
“What is it?”
“I just…I don’t want my father to find out about us by walking past a magazine that has exclusive shots of us grocery shopping like a happy couple.”
“Your father is skilled in avoiding the gossip rags. I doubt he’ll even see them.”
“What if he just happens to look in the direction, and one of them catches his eye?” Connor arched a brow at me in challenge.
“Well, let’s go over there now and tell them. Let’s rip the Band-Aid off, Connor. I want to start living my life with you.”
Connor opened her mouth, probably about to argue with me, but the doorbell rang. Her eyes widened and she practically flew out of the bed, going over to the window to peer outside. “Shit, it’s my parents,” she said, rushing over to her bag to grab some clothes. Just as Connor was pulling her shirt on over her head, the door opened, and someone walked into the house.
“Connor? It’s just me. I brought you some groceries.” Maeve Jacobs’ voice drifted up the stairs to us. I could hear the rustling of the plastic bags as she moved through the house.
“What do you want to do, here?” I asked Connor lowly, arching a brow. She tossed my jeans and shirt at me.
“Well, your rental is parked in the driveway, so I think it’s pretty obvious you’re here.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
