Her hands roamed to his thighs, touching, stroking, and kneading her way closer to the hand he still used to hold himself. She wanted to be the one to hold him-to devour him-to make him feel.
His fingers massaged her scalp. "That's it, baby, suck me."
His heavy sack brushed her hand and she moved to it, cupping and measuring its weight in her palm. He groaned and thrust into her mouth, far enough to challenge her gag reflex. But she took him in, didn't gag, forced her muscles to comply, take whatever he gave her. He grasped her hand and let it replace the one he'd used to hold his shaft, let her fingers curl around his girth then covered her hand with his. She stroked him with her fist while taking him with her mouth.
Her fingers only held half of him. She squeezed her thighs and rocked her hips, her body responding to the idea of this great big thing inside her. It made sense he'd be big. No man strutted like he did without having the goods to back it up. And he had them, had enough to justify his arrogance and then some.
She gasped when his cock left her lips, let air fill her lungs before she took him back in and pumped him firmly with her hand. Her chest burned, her jaw strained. Wanting him was an ache upon an ache. Like being addicted to something that hurts a little-worth the sting for the rush it delivers. That's what Connor's cock was like.
His thigh stiffened under her free hand and he withdrew from her mouth completely. She arched her neck and opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out as far as it would go for more.
"Look at you." Connor tugged on her hair and butted the tip of his dick against her tongue but didn't feed it to her like she wanted. "Do you have any clue how fucking stunning you are?" He groaned and released her then tugged her up by the arm. "Shirt off now."
Her legs went weak on her but she did what he asked and pulled off her T-shirt and then her bra. Her breasts fell out, heavier than they'd ever been, nipples hard as stones. The skin across them tingled. He grabbed her breasts in his big hands, squeezed them, and rolled his thumbs over her nipples.
Her head lulled back and his arm circled her waist, held her and she arched over the security of his embrace. His mouth closed over one ridged nipple, laving it with his tongue as his free hand tweaked the other. Pleasure shot between her legs and control swirled out of her grasp.
The rough scrape of his whiskers against her skin added layer upon layer of sensation to what was already too much. He moved to the other breast and gave it equal attention, offering it a light nip with his teeth.
"Oh god please, Connor," she cried.
Her legs gave way and he caught her then hoisted her over his shoulder. Her bare bottom stuck in the air, his hand resting on it.
"Just remember you asked for this." He smacked her ass-cheek hard enough to smart then rubbed the spot and carried her to her room.
Her breasts wobbled against his back and blood rushed to her head, making it spin. He'd thrown her over his shoulder but she reveled in his barbaric behavior.
Conan the fucking barbarian.
He deposited her on the bed then climbed over her. Her heart beat so hard the sound rang in her ears. He pushed her thighs apart, dipped between them, covered her rigid clitoris with his tongue and worked it. Pleasure hazed her vision, doubled it until the room was only shadows and light. He drove two fingers into her. Her back arched off the bed. Too much … All the freaking teasing had heightened her sensitivity. She moaned breathlessly, sounding like someone else.
He raised his face and swirled his fingers in her. "Don't come yet."
She grasped the back of his head but his short hair provided little to grip as she urged him down.
"I have to," she screamed.
He rose above her, grabbed the back of her knee and flipped her over. Her stomach hit the covers and her knees were knocked apart, her hips drawn back. He palmed her bottom, squeezed her cheeks then pressed one still-wet finger against her rear entrance. She jerked, clenched her cheeks and gasped. Her thigh muscles twitched, desperation shaking every cell. He circled her ass with his damp finger.
"Who's in charge, Charlie?"
She panted and squirmed against his touch, both longing for and dreading what he'd do next. He pulsed his finger against her but did not enter. A taboo threat, a subtle promise of a different kind of pleasure-deeper control.
"Who-tell me who."
His other hand delved under her and stroked her clit, pushing her to the sweet edge.
"You, Connor, you're in charge," she gasped.
He smacked her pussy softly. "And when will you come?"
"When you tell me to," she groaned.
He leaned away from her but she stayed still, pressed her bottom back wantonly.
"Protection, baby?"
"The drawer," she whispered and waited.
The drawer creaked open and he pulled out the box of condoms. The freaking unopened box she'd never had the chance to use. But as with every task he tackled, Connor worked efficiently and the wrapper tore before she had to worry about the wait.
His legs brushed the back of her thighs and she tilted her ass back against him. The head of his cock ran along her slit, up and over, nudging her and moving on.
"Is this what you want, baby? Say you want me inside you."
"I want you in me, Connor." She dropped her head onto her forearms and prayed she didn't sound as desperate to him as she did in her own ears.
He growled softly and turned her again, this time onto her back. She barely had a chance to blink and he was there-pushing his way into her.
She gave a half-shout. He drove in hard, planted himself to his base then maneuvered her thighs. Her pussy spasmed around him, pleasure tinged with a burn. She'd known he was big, measured his thickness in her palm, between her lips-but this, him stretching her open, filling her so fully she barely dared to breathe-the strength of these sensations were something she couldn't have expected.
He stayed still, must have known she needed a chance to adjust to his intrusion. Pressure filled her abdomen, made her roll her hips. He touched every corner of her with his girth.
"Now, baby. Now you can come-with me in you."
He withdrew, purposefully but with restraint, then surged back in. Her muscles tightened, she was so ready and his cock felt as if it was made to rock against her G-spot.
Moisture flooded her and when he pulled out, he slid with ease. He went from restrained to unleashed, grasping her hips and tilting her center to him, pumping into her. She reached out and touched his abs, glorified in the ridged nuances flexing with each thrust. He scooped up her hands and pushed them over her head, driving into her savagely. She lay stretched out beneath him-could do nothing but surrender-give in completely. Let him fuck every thought out of her head, fuck every morsel of tension into a ball of electric energy that centered in her vagina.
The grip on her wrists shifted and he grasped her jaw, covered her mouth with his and kissed her. His tongue stroked her mouth, filled it in the same delicious rhythm. He consumed her, from fingertips to toes. No escape. Kissing him, fucking him, breathing him in, and tasting him. Her vision splintered, her limbs twisted, an orgasm crashed over her. Pleasure exploded in waves, shook her in its thunderous fist.
She moaned into his mouth, shuddered and convulsed. He ate her cries with his lips as if he could taste the flavor of her ecstasy. He took her harder, faster. Pumped into her until new tension buzzed through her core. He reached between them and touched her clit, forcing that tension into a sweeter sensation.
The world narrowed, everything else slipping from importance. Nothing mattered except the energy between them. His gaze on her. He stroked her clit, using firm, quick strokes, matching the tempo of his cock. Another orgasm gripped her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sank her teeth into his shoulder.
She shook and tasted the scent of soap on his body mingled with the tang of sweat. He groaned and pushed home, his cock butted her tender cervix as he came. He collapsed on top of her, his hips still rocking, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from her.
Finally he stilled but remained inside her. He rolled them onto their side and pulled her thigh over his hip to hold her close. He breathed into her hair, arms wrapped around her, stroked her from shoulder to hip. Tenderness wormed its way inside her chest, made her believe life had just changed. He hadn't lied.
She was his.
Connor rubbed his cheek against the silkiness of her hair. He could live to be a thousand and he would always remember the feel of it against his skin-the soft, feminine scent. Like something he could eat-a cupcake … vanilla frosting.
Charlie curled into him, stroking her fingertips over his collarbone. He knew why. She couldn't stop touching him just as he couldn't stop touching her.