Sweet Possession

CHAPTER 25

Connor returned from taking the cups to the kitchen and saw that Lyric had fallen asleep on the couch. Not that it surprised him. She’d been bobbing and weaving for over an hour as she sat and talked to him and Kane. It was obvious she had no desire to go up to her room. Alone. She’d clung to their company until fatigue had overcome her.

“Want me to get her a blanket?” Kane asked.

Connor shook his head. “I’ll take her up. She’ll be more comfortable in her bed.”

“I’m going to turn in then. See you tomorrow.”

Kane walked quietly out of the living room and Connor stared down at Lyric, who was curled against the end of the couch, her head on the arm rest. He reached down and touched a strand of her hair that had fallen over her eyes and gently pushed it back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you,” he murmured. “Just when I think I’ve got you all figured out, you manage to surprise me all over again. I wonder sometimes if you even know who you are.”

He leaned down and slid his arms underneath her curled-up body and hoisted her up. She stirred and made a murmur of protest and then promptly cuddled into his chest.

He liked the way she felt in his arms. All soft and snuggly, her head tucked underneath his chin like she was made to go there.

Slowly he navigated the stairs and headed into her bedroom, where he deposited her onto the bed. She yawned and then her eyelids fluttered open and she blinked up at him.

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “You going to be okay?”

As he drew away, uncertainty, and a little fear, flashed in her eyes. She was clearly torn between wanting him to go and not wanting to be alone. He wasn’t going to push her. She had to make the choice herself, even if he had no desire to go anywhere.

There was something infinitely fragile about Lyric. Behind the badass persona was a fascinating mix of fear and insecurity that he still hadn’t been able to discern the reason for.

“Stay,” she said. Her gaze traveled over his face and he saw a hint of uncertainty. “I mean, I’d like you to stay. If you want . . .”

He bent down and shushed her with a kiss. He was purposely tender, allowing his mouth to melt over hers. “I want. I want very much. How about we get more comfortable and get into bed.”

It hadn’t been his plan to make love to her, but he’d gone instantly hard the moment she’d given him that sleepy, seductive look.

She rolled to the side of the bed and rose. He watched in the low light as she began undressing. She pulled her shirt over her head and then peeled down her jeans until she was clad in only her bra and panties.

It was a sight to make a red-blooded man get a raging case of lust. Jet-black and lacy. Ultrafeminine but it also screamed “Bad girl gonna rock your world.”

When she turned, he could see the mounds of her breasts pushed up to their best advantage, and the slightest hint of a peach-colored nipple peeked from above the cup.

As if he weren’t even there, she stretched lazily and then pushed the frothy lace from her body. As soon as she was naked, she crawled onto the bed and stretched out on her side, her vivid blue eyes trained on him as if telling him it was his turn.

He wondered if she knew what a provocative image she posed. Probably. She was likely grinning like a maniac on the inside because he was standing here with a bulge at his crotch that would make taking his jeans off painful and damn difficult.

When she shifted restlessly and slipped her fingers between her legs to delve into those soft folds, he lost what little patience he thought he was holding.

He yanked his shirt off and then fumbled with his pants. The condoms were where he’d left them—thank God—and he reached for one of the packets on the nightstand while he unzipped his jeans with the other.

She continued to stroke herself and made soft little sounds of pleasure that drove him insane. He itched from the inside out, like he’d been invaded by a thousand bugs.

He finally managed to get his pants and underwear off and he had to work at getting the condom on. He was so hard, the latex stretched tight over his aching erection until he worried he’d split the damn thing.

He strode to the bed and she gave him an innocent little smile that told him she knew precisely how naughty she was being. He reached for her ankles, yanked her around and then pulled her to the end of the bed. He spread her thighs, held them wide apart and then stroked inside her with one forceful thrust.

Her pussy rippled over his flesh, hugging, fighting, sucking him deeper. His entire body went so taut he was going to get a frigging cramp. But damn, she felt good. So good.

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, determined not to come. He was close. After one thrust he was fighting off his release with everything he had.

He leaned down and kissed the valley between her breasts as he pulsed inside her, dying to move, dying to thrust hard and long until she begged him to stop.

Drawn to the plump swells of her breasts, he slid his tongue over the underside and then up over her nipple. A spasm rolled through her body and her pussy contracted around him in little, fluttery pulses that damn near made his eyes roll back in his head.

He nipped at the taut peak and then sucked it strongly between his teeth. She flinched and moved restlessly beneath him and then finally dug her fingers into his shoulders and lifted her hips.

“Please, Connor,” she gasped. “Move. Fuck me. Do something.”

“Christ,” he muttered. “I’m going to come, baby. Give me just a minute to calm down. I want to make this good for you, not get inside you and be done within two minutes.”

She laughed softly and stroked her hands over his back, up the column of his neck and then into his hair. She was everywhere, touching, caressing. She curled her legs around his waist and arched into him, trying to get him deeper. As if that were possible. He was already balls deep, pressed so tight against her ass that it would take a crowbar to separate them.

“Relax,” he whispered. “I’ll make it good for you. Let me love you. Let me show you how good it can be with someone who cares for you.”

She went so still that he worried he’d crossed some invisible line. She looked—for lack of a better word—lost.

Worried he’d lose her, he kissed a line to her jaw and then nibbled over to her lips before sealing his mouth over hers. He was consumed by her. He had to be careful or he’d devour her. He had to pace himself and measure his kisses. She just tasted so good that he lacked control.

Raising his hands to frame her face, he pulled back just an inch or so and then thrust again as he claimed her mouth once more.

Their tongues slipped over each other, exploring and tasting. He began moving, withdrawing and thrusting, slowly at first and then harder and faster as he finally managed to leash the raging caveman inside who just wanted to claim his woman, mark her and slake his lust endlessly.

Oh yeah, he could do this all night.

Touching her. Tasting her. Getting so deep inside her that she couldn’t shake him. He wanted her to believe in him. He wanted her to trust him. He wanted a lot of damn things.

He wanted to wrap himself around her so tight that nothing or no one could ever get to her or hurt her. He wanted to be her refuge.

His mouth slipped from hers and glanced over her cheek to her ear and then down her neck, kissing and sucking. He hadn’t given her any sort of foreplay but he couldn’t even muster the regret he should. She’d been sleek and ready for him. Hot and damp. So fucking tight that he thought he’d die getting inside her.

“Connor,” she whispered. “I’m close. I can’t hold back.”

He closed his eyes. Damn, but he didn’t deserve this. He hadn’t done anything to ensure her pleasure. He’d gone after her like a rutting pig. Pinned her to the mattress and held her down while he got inside her.

It took everything he had, but he pulled out of her. His cock screamed hell no. She let out a whimper of protest. He kissed her belly and then dropped to his knees between her thighs. He was determined to make her feel every bit as good as he did.

Her pussy was swollen from his invasion. The soft pink lips were spread and her opening was red and distended from his size. Damn, but she was sexy.

He pressed his mouth to the opening. She flinched and let out a sharp cry of pleasure. Then he swept his tongue over and then pushed in until he tasted the very heart of her.

She went satiny sweet in his mouth. Like liquid silk.

Her legs came up and looped over his shoulders, squeezing his head and holding it in place. She pulsed against his mouth. Shudder after shudder rolled through her body. She lifted her hips but he grasped them and held them in place for his seeking mouth.

He tongued her clit, rolling the tip in a tight circle and then sucking softly at the quivering peak. She was as tight as a bow at full draw, her thighs rigid on his shoulders.

“Connor,” she said softly. So sweetly it was like music over his ears. “Connor,” she said again on a sigh.

He rose and stared down at her half-lidded eyes, glazed with passion and yearning. She was sprawled out like a feast before him and he ate her with his eyes.

Then he reached and flipped her over until she was facedown on the mattress. She turned her head so that her cheek rested against the mattress and she closed her eyes as if anticipating where he’d take her next.

He cupped her plump behind and kneaded the soft flesh, pushing and spreading so that her pussy was bared. He pulled until she was bent over the edge and then he pushed into her from behind, his abdomen pressing into her as he stroked deep.

Man, he loved her like this. His hands left her ass and smoothed up her delicate spine to her shoulders, and then he gripped her neck and thrust again, pulling her to meet his forceful thrusts.

He leaned down until his body was completely covering hers. Protecting. Sheltering. Completely blanketing her. Then he began fucking in and out, the sounds of his hips slapping against her ass rising in the silent room.

She moaned and stretched her arms out above her head as if surrendering completely to his dominance. He nipped at her shoulder, lightly at first and then harder.

He wanted to own her. He wanted to put his mark on her, to let her know she belonged to him. No one else. No other man would touch her. No other man would possess what he considered his.

She may not know it yet, but he was it for her. It was going to require patience. He was a patient guy when the reward was high.

She was going to be the biggest challenge of his life, but he was up to it. He wasn’t going to fail.

She was his.

He lowered his body until his chest was flush with her back. She was cupped perfectly to him and he moved both their bodies as he stroked in and out in long, lazy thrusts.

Over and over he made his point, driving her so close to orgasm and then stilling as she moved restlessly beneath him, trying to make him take her over the edge. He waited and then began all over again, pushing into her, feeling the exquisite sensation of her pussy clutching at him.

“You’re mine, Lyric,” he whispered next to her ear. And then he thrust hard and deep and began pumping against her with renewed urgency.

He planted his palms on either side of her and levered himself up so that he could power more forcefully into her.

She cried out and went slick around him so that he glided with ease so deep, into the very heart of her. Faster. Harder.

Mindlessly he kept thrusting, even when her entire body went rigid and his name spilled from her lips over and over.

He chased one orgasm from her and went after another. Relentless. Wanting her to know who she belonged to. Who commanded her body and her pleasure.

She begged and pleaded. More. Stop. Don’t stop. Oh God. Again.

“Connor!”

Her fingers curled into fists above her, and she raised her head and pushed back against him as another orgasm raced through her body, igniting fire within him.

“Oh God, I’m coming. Baby. You feel so good. Come with me, Lyric.”

He swelled within her, so tight he could barely move even after she’d come twice and her moisture bathed him. He withdrew and rolled her over roughly, spreading her legs and mounting her again, this time face-to-face. He wanted to see her. He wanted to drown in her eyes while he finally came.

He plunged deep. Withdrew and then plunged one last time. She wrapped herself around him. Arms, legs. She raised her head and buried it in his neck.

He came apart. It was the most gut-wrenching orgasm of his life. He couldn’t be still. He kept thrusting and thrusting, like he was about to come out of his skin. He came and came, and he worried about the condom but he couldn’t stop.

She held him, stroking her hands over his back, clutching at him with her legs, pulling him deeper until there was no separation between them.

He slumped down over her, embedded deeply in her pussy as the last of his release tore from his body. He sucked in deep breaths. His entire body shook. He couldn’t catch up. Couldn’t process the magnitude of what he’d just felt. It was earth-shattering. Weren’t women supposed to be the ones who came undone during sex? He’d never felt so damn vulnerable in his life.

Knowing he couldn’t stay inside her after coming so violently, he groaned and rolled to the side, still holding her tightly against him.

He eased out of her, hoping like hell the condom wasn’t already leaking. Then he reached down and pulled it off. He leaned back and aimed for the garbage can but he didn’t give a shit if it made it or not. He’d clean it up later. Right now he didn’t want to separate himself from Lyric even for the two seconds it would take to dispose of the rubber.

She trembled against him and was so quiet, it worried him. What was he supposed to say after something like this? What was there to say?

He’d scare the shit out of her if he spouted what he was thinking or feeling. Hell, any woman would waste no time getting the hell away if he told her that he wanted to tie her to him for the next year and never let her out of bed.

Sex made a man crazy. There was no other explanation for it.

No, it wasn’t sex. And maybe that was the problem. He knew it went far deeper than that. It hadn’t been sex even that first time. He knew it. He accepted it. He just didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do about it.

Worse, he had no idea how to handle Lyric. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up. One wrong word and the walls would go up and he’d be frozen out.

How the hell was a man ever supposed to know the right thing to say or do at precisely the right time? It was a wonder relationships ever worked.

Relationship. Hell. He was getting way too far ahead of himself. He was thinking too much. You weren’t supposed to think after mind-blowing sex. That was his problem. He was getting all analytical—and, God help him, all touchy-feely—when he needed to just enjoy the moment and take things as they came.

Weren’t women supposed to be the emotional creatures who couldn’t separate sex from love?

He was fucked. So fucked.

He glanced down to see her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling as she cuddled against him. With a resigned sigh, he made the mental effort to shut his brain off. One should never make life-altering decisions when holding a naked woman in his arms.

For a long moment they lay there, silent and unmoving. He was about to drift into sleep himself, content that she hadn’t hauled ass, when she stirred against him and started to push away.

The alarm went off in his brain as she started to roll. He reached for her but she slipped from his grasp.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered, just as she’d done the first night they’d made love.

And he knew, just as he’d known then, that she wouldn’t be back.