Not able to hold off any longer, I slip the button at his waistband through its hole and sink to my knees, taking his zipper down with me. His pants and boxer briefs go next. It’s a joint effort. I push them over his trim hips and down his muscular legs. He kicks them off along with his shoes and socks.
Holy. Hot. Damn.Yeah, I’ve seen his dick before. But that doesn’t stop it from having its usual effect on me. He’s already erect, undulating proudly in a way that’s almost hypnotizing. A bead of pre-cum hangs from the tip, seemingly defying gravity.
“Come to mama,” I murmur, taking his impressive length in my hand and trying—but failing—to wrap my fingers around it.
There’s no closing my eyes this time as I guide him to my mouth. I tease the head with my thumb before taking him inside. I’m afraid I’ll never get enough of this. The taste of his warm, clean flesh. The naughty things he whispers as I take him deep into the back of my throat.
“Fuck, yes.” His head falls back, eyes closed.
I run my tongue down his length before releasing him with a soft pop.
“Eyes open, remember?” I say, taunting him with his own words.
He grumbles but complies. I put my mouth on him again, and he looks down through sinfully long lashes that any woman would kill for, watching his cock as it slides in and out, again and again. One hand tangles itself in my hair, anchoring me. Or maybe it’s him he’s trying to keep steady.
I concentrate on taking him as deep as my throat will allow. My jaw aches and my eyes water, but none of that matters. My mind has one track, and right now it’s fixed on making this the best fucking blow job Connor’s ever had. Something he’ll remember long after this thing between us has run its course and we’ve gone our separate ways.
His body tenses and his breathing gets increasingly erratic, signaling that he’s about to come. When he does, it’s explosive, and I swallow every drop, continuing to suck on him even as his cock softens and his grip on my hair loosens. Eventually, he drags me off him, groaning when my tongue comes out to lick my lips.
“Holy fuck.” He rakes a shaky hand through his sweat-slicked hair. “That was—”
“Hot as hell,” I finish for him, sitting back on my heels.
His head turns slowly toward the glass wall, like he’s just remembering where we are. That anyone can see us. Then he reaches down and hauls me to my feet, pulling me away from the windows.
“I think lower Manhattan’s had enough of a show.” He tilts my face up so our eyes meet. I expect to see desire there, but instead there’s something deeper. More profound. And infinitely more frightening. “I want this next part to be just between us.”
I release my lip—which I wasn’t even aware I was biting—from between my teeth and exhale. “Next part?”
“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” He grabs me by the waist and lifts me up like I weigh next to nothing. “We’re just getting started.”
He deposits me on the bed, taking a foil packet from the nightstand drawer and tossing it onto the comforter before joining me. His dick is already starting to get hard again—he really does have the most amazing restorative powers—and it pulses against my hip.
I grin and spread my arms over my head, knowing from experience how incredible it’s going to feel when he’s inside me. Filling me. Stretching me.
He props himself up on his elbow, smiling back at me, flashing that damn dimple, the one that never fails to make my heart go pitter-patter. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be good to go.”
But it doesn’t take ten minutes. It doesn’t even take five once he starts moving against me, rubbing his cock on my thigh in slow, tantalizing strokes.
“I like this.” He fingers the delicate strap of my bra then slides it over my shoulder, following its path down my arm with his finger.
A familiar tingling sensation builds between my legs. Because he ran his finger down my forearm. But who am I kidding? He looks at me sideways and I’m turned on.
“If I say I like it too, are you going to rip it off? Because I’m warning you, my bras are even more pricey than my panties.”
“I’m pretty sure I can afford to replace it.” He reaches underneath me to unhook the clasp. “But don’t worry. I’ll take it off the conventional way. This time.”
He does, and we’re both finally, blissfully, totally naked. One hand cups my breast as the other reaches around for the condom he dropped on the bed earlier. He finds it and is tearing it open when I put a hand on his forearm, stopping him.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’m on the pill. I’m clean. And I trust you.”
If I didn’t already realize the import of my words, the expression on his face would be a huge tip-off. His smile is slow and dreamy, and his eyes go all soft and gooey, like chocolate ice cream left out in the sun.
“Are you sure?”
I nod. We’ve never had sex without a condom. Truth be told, I’ve never let anyone fuck me bareback. But this isn’t anyone. This is Connor.
He chucks the condom onto the nightstand and glides into me, nice and easy, inch by inch. I plant my feet on the bed and arch into him, willing him to go deeper, faster, harder.
