“Yes what? Tell me you believe me.”
I try to catch my breath and focus my mind long enough to form a coherent sentence, which is particularly hard, given the circumstances.
“I believe you,” I manage to say.
“Good girl,” Connor praises, sending a gush of warmth between my legs.
Gripping the hem of my pyjama bottoms, he gazes up at me with love-filled eyes. “This okay?” he asks, tugging the fabric a little lower.
Still self-conscious but too turned on to care, I nod.
Pride shining through his smile, Connor pulls down my bottoms and throws them onto the floor. He holds me by my bent knees, keeping them spread apart, and shuffles a little lower. He gazes intently between my legs, hunger and longing clearly evident in his eyes.
“I told you – fucking perfect.”
He’s lying to you.
The thought has been swirling around in my head but was overshadowed by my need for Connor to touch me. But now it’s sitting front and centre in my mind, and I’m feeling incredibly embarrassed.
Connor dips his head and kisses my inner thighs, another area I hate, but that’s a battle for another day. While he’s distracted, I carefully ease my top back down to cover myself up a bit more. It seems redundant, considering my lower half is totally exposed and inches away from his face, but it makes me feel a little bit better. Until Connor realises what I’m doing and moves his hand from my breast to catch my wrist.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The strict quality of Connor’s voice gives me goosebumps.
“I was just—”
Connor doesn’t let me finish. He moves my hands to rest on either side of me on the bed.
“Leave them there,” he commands. Next, he pushes my top back up, this time bunching it at my neck.
The goosebumps spread over my breasts, and my nipples harden almost painfully.
“I want to see all of you, Tilly. Every square inch of you.”
He continues placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on my thighs, moving upwards and licking the crease at the top of my leg. My whole body shivers in response.
“And, Tilly?” Connor asks before licking the crease at the top of my other thigh. “If you try to hide yourself from me again, I won’t let you come.”
I mumble something under my breath instinctively and immediately regret it. Connor’s eyes bounce up to meet mine and I squeeze mine shut like a child. His dominating demeanour has disappeared, traded instead for one of shock and pity and Ican’t stand it.
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing. Please continue,” I say, gesturing to the wet mess between my legs.
“Did you say ‘What’s new?’ when I said I wouldn’t let you come?”
Oh, how I wish I hadn’t. But I had. So, let’s have another humiliating conversation while I’m sprawled naked on the bed.
“Yes.” Connor’s eyes widen in astonishment, and I feel even more weird about the situation. “I can come when I’m on my own,” I add defensively. “I’m just normally too caught up in my own head for it to happen with someone else.”
It’s because you don’t deserve to enjoy it.
My hands fist the sheets beneath them as I try to remain calm. I didn’t intend on showing all of my crazy to Connor in one day. I was planning on drip-feeding it over several months if I can keep him interested for that long. There’s been a lot for Connor to take this morning, and I hold my breath while I wait for him to realise I’m too much and figure out how he’s going to chuck me.
“Okay,” he says eventually, a hint of anger in his voice.
Is he angry with me? I can’t believe I’ve messed this up already.
“We’ll discuss it properly later,” he says.
