Reflection (The Chrysalis Series) (17 page)

He pulled her in closer, resting her head on his chest while at the same time pushing his hips against hers so she couldn’t miss his obvious arousal. He waited for her to tense and was surprised when she just melted further against him.

Plunging ahead, he said, ‘That’s why, Bridget. I don’t think you’re ready yet for how I’m feeling tonight and I’m not sure my control will hold tonight.

‘I want you too badly. You feel too good. You look too good. You smell too good. And, dammit, I want inside you more than I want to breathe at the moment. But I’m not feeling gentle, Bridget. I want it rough and hard. And, baby, you need gentle. You need calm and considerate. We’re still feeling our way through this and I don’t know that I can give that to you tonight.’ He took a deep, deep breath and set her away from him. ‘So, I better go.’

Damp, green eyes searched his face for long moments before she turned away reaching for her key. What hope he’d had that she’d take him up on his offer crumbled to ashes. He watched her unlock each lock – the mechanisms that symbolised her scars as much as they protected her – and in that moment he wanted to rip to shreds the man who had so indelibly changed her.

The last lock clicked and she opened the door before turning to him, a tentative smile on her lips.

‘Connor.’ She held her hand out to him.

He took it in his, prepared to give her one last kiss and take his leave.

‘I’m not made of glass, Connor. What I need is for you to treat me like a woman. Your woman. I trust you, baby.’

Gripping her hand tightly, Connor said, ‘Be sure, Bridget. There’s no going back once I start.’

Rather than speak she pulled him closer, raised up on her toes, and kissed him.

He didn’t kiss her, he ravaged her mouth. And, for once, she melted into it. He nipped at her lower lip and sucked gently to eradicate the pain. He walked her backward into her foyer and kicked the door shut behind them.

‘Locks,’ she panted against his mouth and he broke the kiss long enough to slam all the locks tight.

Unwilling to wait, Bridget grabbed him by the jacket and pushed him up against the wall next to her door. She ripped the jacket off and tossed it aside, praying Daisy didn’t decide to use it as a bed later.

As if summoned by the thought, the pit bull terrier came out to greet them and simultaneously they hollered, ‘Daisy, bed!’ Daisy gave them a doggy huff and left in search of her bed, clearly not happy at being excluded, but the last thing Bridget wanted was an audience.

The interruption did nothing to quell the heat between them. It had been building in the time they’d been seeing each other. Growing hotter with each interlude as Connor slowly drew out her sensuality, reminding her she was a woman, not just a female with the requisite body parts. Now, the heat was too much. She might not want to jump off the ledge altogether, but she definitely wanted more than what they’d done the other times.

All of his teasing and play while they were out had left her with a gnawing need inside her. She wanted it satisfied. A plan he was clearly on board with, considering the way he looked at her. Her awareness of him, already heightened from their interlude at the restaurant, grew exponentially.

She could see the pulse at the base of his neck. It was fast and hard; his chest heaved and he all but panted even as his erection tented the cotton of his boxers. She could smell the woodsy, earthy scent of the soap he used and, as she stroked along his skin, she was convinced the small hairs on his body stood at attention. The chemistry between them made manifest.

In another first, she took the lead. Stroking his body, she watched his muscles ripple and flex, dancing under her fingers like he was the puppet to her master. He let her have her way for long minutes. Allowing her to trace his nipples with her fingers. To squeeze and pluck them before leaning in and licking gently, absorbing the feel of the flat discs under her tongue.

He groaned and leaned into her mouth. His hands he kept planted on the wall and her heart squeezed that, even in this moment, he was thinking of her.

It was time for her to think only of him. Time to give him what he gave her.

She sank to her knees in front of him and smiled as his eyes flickered in surprise. He began to reach for her, to pull her up, but she held up a hand and fended him off.

‘Be still, Connor.’

With shaking fingers, she pulled down his boxers. Gripping him in her hand, she licked him and revelled in the moan she got in response. She licked him again and again, treating the silky flesh like an ice cream cone and growing more enthusiastic with each moan, each gasp and groan, until finally he stopped her, saying, ‘Enough. I don’t want to come in your mouth; I want to come in your pussy.’

His graphic words set her blood on fire and had her body clenching in all the right places. Moisture flooded her sex and her nipples were hard. She wanted more. She wanted everything he had to give.

That thought gave her pause. She couldn’t lose herself completely. She might not recover. But she wasn’t going to fail him tonight. Tonight they’d take another step.

Standing, she kicked off her heels and faced him. Reaching up, she slid the straps of her dress from her shoulders and let the silk pool at her feet. Clad in only her thong, garter, and stockings she waited, unsure of where to go from there.

‘Jesus!’ The look in his eyes seemed to scorch her everywhere his eyes trailed over her skin, leaving her feeling physically stroked, and she felt herself sway toward him.

He came for her then, stalking her like a big cat with prey in its sights. Rather than scare her, the leap in her heart and the catch in her breath were all about the need to be possessed by him. Even as she backed up, she wanted him to catch her, and catch her he did.

She could go no further as she felt her ass bump up against the table in the hallway she used for keys and mail. Turning, she thought to tease him by giving him her back; instead, she was brought up short by the sight of them in the mirror that hung over the table. It was so large, she could clearly see them both from the hips up.

He dwarfed her. His bronze skin unbroken in his nakedness. He stepped up behind her, pressing his erection into her ass as he reached around her and cupped her breasts. They were full and swollen with desire, her dusky nipples hard and distended.

His hands were large and still her breasts spilled out of them. His touch was electric as he squeezed her nipples. Zings of pleasure raced through her veins. She closed her eyes …

‘Watch!’ he demanded and nipped her shoulder.

She gasped and did as ordered. She watched as he cupped and massaged her breasts. She absorbed the sight of him pinching and tugging her nipples even as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. She took in the image of the two of them together, building in a crescendo of ecstasy as her sex swelled and pulsed with the need to be filled.

She pushed back against him, pressing her ass into his groin.

‘Tell me what you want, sweetheart,’ he demanded as he ripped her thong from her and kissed each cheek. Kneeling behind her, he tugged on one ankle and spread her legs.

Rising up behind her, he gripped her hips and growled, ‘Look at you. You’re so fucking gorgeous. You look like a woman waiting to be good and thoroughly fucked, Bridget. Your pretty breasts with your nipples so hard –’ he plucked them as he spoke ‘– and your pussy, swollen and dripping, just waiting for me to fuck you.’

She flushed with embarrassment even as she felt her clitoris pulse with each graphic word he uttered. He groaned as she pushed against him again. Moving quickly, he snatched up his pants and grabbed a condom out of his wallet. After efficiently rolling it on, he repositioned himself behind her. His cock was rubbing along her slit and she wanted more, but she didn’t think she could say the words.

Leaning into her, he whispered, ‘Say it, Bridget. Say the words.’

‘I want you, Connor.’ She pushed against him again.

‘Where, baby? Tell me where.’ He stroked her slit with his shaft, parting the slick folds and teasing her with the lightest of pressure.

‘In me, Connor. Please.’ She all but growled at him; the tension in her belly was growing. Her skin felt tight and a light sheen of perspiration broke out along her skin.

‘Tell me what I want to hear, Bridget. Tell me to fuck your sweet pussy. I want you to say it. Let your inhibitions go, baby.’ His voice was rough, guttural, and she quivered at the urgency she heard in it.

She mewled in frustration. She wanted him inside her in a way she’d never experienced with any man. Especially since her rape. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, but he stopped her.

‘Uh-uh.’ He pressed forward, the tip of his cock teasing her entrance. ‘Look at me and give me the words. You have to own this, Bridget. Trust me.’

Understanding broke over her in that moment. He was right. She did have to own this act, this moment, these words. It was her body, it was her choice. She had to do more than hint and imply.

Meeting those beloved grey eyes in the mirror, she said, ‘Fuck me, Connor. Fuck my pussy. Now.’

He pulled back and gently, oh-so-gently, he began to slide into her. Rocking in short, even strokes until finally he was fully seated. He gave her time to adjust to the light burn and stretch of him inside her.

She watched him in the mirror. The flex of his hips and the play of his stomach muscles was fascinating and seeing him moving inside her while feeling him pulse and ripple along her vaginal walls was almost surreal. She needed more though. She needed him to move. To possess her. To bring her to the completion she could feel hovering just outside her reach.

As if reading her mind, he began to move. His hands gripped her hips and he set up a slow, easy rhythm, pulling out almost completely and plunging back in.

Bridget stopped trying to catalogue her feelings and simply went where they took her, demanding, ‘Harder. I won’t break!’

He gave her no resistance and fucked her harder, deeper. Cupping her breasts and tweaking her nipples until her own moans verged on screams. Every time she closed her eyes, he said, ‘Watch!’

She marvelled at the sight they made. Her lips were swollen, as were her breasts. Her nipples were hard and berry-red from his play. They jutted proudly from her body even as her full breasts swung and jiggled with each impalement of Connor’s cock.

Her hair tumbled down around her face and her eyes were sleepy with sex and lust. She looked like a woman in the throes of passion. Connor had the intent look of a man on a mission. His face was hard with lust and pleasure. He towered over her, making her feel both dominated and yet safer than she’d ever felt. Together they looked sexy and uninhibited.

As the image of them joined in passion seared itself onto her brain, he reached down and stroked her swollen clitoris, sending her into an orgasm the likes of which she’d never experienced. Pleasure pounded through her veins, burning through her, causing her to scream in agonised ecstasy. She felt Connor pound into her before finally holding deep, spilling himself inside her.

Her last thought before losing herself completely to the vortex of ecstasy he’d wrought upon her was that, just maybe, she was no longer broken.

Chapter Twenty

Bridget woke to the tantalizing aromas of breakfast and felt her heart squeeze. She couldn’t remember any of her former boyfriends cooking for her.

Boyfriend! That thought drove the last vestiges of sleep right out of her mind. Is that how she was thinking of Connor now? It was definitely further along than she’d been intending so early in their association, but after last night, she couldn’t deny her feelings went deeper than mere physical chemistry.

She rolled onto her back and stretched languidly. Her body still tingled and was luxuriously sore in all the right places. Connor had been perfect.

They had been perfect.

It had been so intense and rough, but she’d never crossed the line. She giggled in excitement at the realisation that she could actually have it all. A man with whom she could let down her guard enough to experience more than physical copulation and who didn’t ask for more than she was willing to give.

But what was she giving him? She hadn’t even told him about Whittier.

Doubt threatened to crush her glow and she shoved it away. She may have deepening feelings for Connor, but they’d made no promises or commitments to each other. She was entitled to her privacy.

Flipping onto her side, Bridget snuggled into the covers and inhaled Connor’s scent from the sheets. Just the smell of him excited her. So much of this was new to her. Or at the very least, if it had been like this with Doug, she didn’t remember.

Connor was fast becoming a human aphrodisiac. Seeing him, touching him, smelling him all made her want to take him straight to bed. Yes, she still slipped perilously close to the edge with him as well. He made her feel so secure. As if everything was acceptable, and she had to catch herself in those moments. It just wasn’t worth the risk in her opinion.

Especially not now, when last night had proven they could have fantastic sex without delving into any of the areas that she was ashamed of.

She bit her lip and smiled as she remembered his reaction to Victor’ creation. He’d definitely loved it, just as Claire had predicted. And if she remembered correctly, there was a sweet little purple teddy with matching panties hanging in her closet.

Connor would love that.

With a grin, she scrambled out of bed and went to dress for her man.

Connor grimaced as he scraped the burnt pancake off the griddle and into the trash. His mind wasn’t where it should be. Rather than concentrating on cooking breakfast, his thoughts strayed back to last night.

He had no right to be frustrated. No right to be dissatisfied. But, damn it, her walls were still firmly in place. Sure, she was making an effort, but it was like getting a drop of water when you really needed a full cup. Rather than slaking your thirst, that drop only made you crave more.

His thirst had grown exponentially after last night.

They’d been right there. He could feel her desire for more. To go further. Deeper. Then, he’d felt her shut it down. He’d wanted to scream his frustration last night, but how fair would that have been when she’d already given more than she had before?

Every time they were together, it was like making love to her through a barrier of shrink wrap. He could feel her, see her, but not truly connect with her. It frustrated him beyond belief, especially because it was good between them. Real good. He should be content. But he wanted more. He wanted all of her. Not the neatly packaged Bridget she was giving him. He wanted her wild, down and dirty, and screaming his name as she demanded even more.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and willed himself to relax. It was too soon for that, but he was finding it harder and harder to refrain both from acting and from confronting her on it.

When he’d woken in bed next to her, he’d had an overwhelming need to fuck her blind. To do all the things he’d dreamed and fantasised about. His hands had literally itched to spank the creamy skin of her ass. He’d imagined putting clamps on her nipples and making her come while he tugged on them.

When temptation had morphed into desire, he’d gotten out of bed, determined to cook breakfast on the erroneous notion that the mundanity of the chore would dampen his lust while also serving as a nice surprise for Bridget. And it would have worked if he could have kept his mind off his fantasies.

They could be so good together if she would just –

Ah hell, Connor. You need to slow your roll, he told himself. You two are still getting to know each other. Relax.

With a deep sigh, he rolled his head on his neck to dispel the tension growing there and focused on cooking. Pancakes were his personal favourite and his gran’s secret ingredient never failed to please.

A competent cook, Connor wrangled breakfast in no time and had just finished pouring coffee and assembling it all on a tray when Bridget entered the kitchen.

‘Hey, back to bed,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘There’s a reason it’s called breakfast in b –’

He lost all thought as he turned and took in the sight of her. Quickly, lest he drop the tray, he thrust it back on the counter top.

Like last night, gone was the ugly cotton. Frankly, he hoped she’d burned it all. She wore a small, silk teddy in a purple so deep it could have been black. The neckline plunged, displaying a mouthwatering amount of cleavage. A wide satin ribbon wrapped around her ribs and tied tantalizingly between her breasts. Some sort of gauzy fabric in the same deep purple draped around her midriff and showed off her taut belly. Matching panties finished off the ensemble.

He was thunderstruck. His cock had no such issues, however, and rose to the occasion with no problems.

‘Mornin’, sugar.’ She smiled wickedly. ‘You’re up early.’ She giggled.

He had no idea if she was referring to him or his dick and he didn’t care. She was standing there in invitation looking sexy as hell and all for him.

‘It is now,’ he growled as he stalked her. She made as if to run, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the table where he lifted her onto it.

Despite his raging desire to push her limits, he reached deep for self-control and gently untied the bow. As the silk fell away, he licked and sucked on her nipples until she was moaning and arching into his mouth. The little sighs she made were all the encouragement he needed. He removed her panties and delved between her sensitive thighs, feasting on her.

Breakfast, and his darker fantasies, were forgotten as they lost themselves in the pure pleasure of one another.