Then she was crawling over him, straddling his lap, and every labored inhale he took was filled with her scent. Lush, willing, aroused woman. Unlike any other woman in his history.
The slight tinge of fear he'd felt melted into a feeling of rightness he could not deny. He didn't feel trapped by Stacey's longing. He craved it, craved her, and only when she was in his arms did the gnawing ease.
She reached for the button and zipper of his jeans and the feel of her fingers brushing along the length of his cock snapped him out of his daze. He reached between her legs, parting her with his fingers, finding her slick and hot.
"Yes," she breathed, tugging harder at the button of his jeans, which was difficult to free because he was sitting.
"Let me eat you," he said gruffly, desperate for the taste of her on his tongue.
Tension stiffened her frame and she stared at his mouth with heavy-lidded eyes. He bit his lower lip, then released it slowly, feeling her quiver beneath his stroking fingertips. Circling her clit, he licked his lips. She whimpered and her nipples stiffened further, directly before his face.
Leaning forward, he opened his mouth and sucked her in. It wasn't enough, not nearly. He cupped the other breast with his free hand, squeezing and kneading, feeling it swell and grow heavy with her desire. Cheeks hollowing, he pressed a puffy nipple to the roof of his mouth and licked his tongue back and forth along the underside of it. Rubbing between her legs, relishing the sounds she made, the mewls and gasps, the way she writhed against him and dug her nails into the bare skin of his shoulders.
He stroked two fingers over the slitted entrance to her pussy, then pushed inside her. She was soaked, dripping down his fingers, clenching greedily as he began to fuck her. In and out. Working her cunt with every bit of skill he possessed, making her cream and beg for his cock.
"Please… fuck me…"
He loved it. Would never get enough of it. Not for his ego, but for her. Because he wanted her to be happy. He wanted to be the man capable of making her happy.
"Connor… please…!"
All the while he suckled her, nibbling with lips and teeth, flicking rapidly over the hard peak with his tongue. She began to grind her hips, fucking him back, lifting and falling, riding his plunging fingers. Her cunt was so drenched he could hear it as well as feel it, the wet sounds so erotic he feared he would lose it and blow in his pants.
He withdrew his fingers with a growl and released her breast with a wet popping sound. "I need to eat your pussy."
Unable to wait for her help, Connor caught her by the waist, twisted his body, and lay on his back lengthwise along the couch. She cried out in surprise as he pulled her up and over his mouth, then moaned his name as he lifted his head and licked her from cunt to clit in one heated swipe.
His dick hardened further at the taste of her, making Aidan's jeans painfully tight. Connor reached down and freed himself, hissing with relief as the pressure lessened and the open air cooled him enough to take him down a notch.
"Lower," he rasped, tugging her thighs.
Stacey blinked at the golden god sprawled between her obscenely widespread legs and felt the slickness of her lust coating her inner thighs. She'd never been so aroused. He was all over her. Devouring her. Just as she had suspected he would be.
There she'd been, pulling the finished pie out of the oven, imagining what it would be like if they were dating. Imagining what it would be like if this were the beginning and not the end. From the way he was always touching her and teasing her, she guessed he would be the kind of man who would fuck her on the kitchen table because he couldn't wait to get to the bedroom. She pictured him coming up behind her while she worked at the sink, pushing down her shorts, then pushing his cock into her.
He was a primitive, highly sexual male. And she wanted him. Never in all of her years had she met a man such as him. What if she never did again? Balls-to-the-wall sex. Nothing-held-back sex. No-holds-barred sex. She'd only had sex like that once in her life. Last night. With Connor. And it had been phenomenal. Would she be kicking herself later for not enjoying more when she had the chance?
In that moment, with a bubbling apple pie in her gloved hands, Stacey had decided that she was a big girl and she could take it. There were worse things in the world than having a two-night stand with a guy you liked and who liked you back.
"Come down," he repeated, pulling at her, his lips parted and glistening, his gaze dark and hungry. "Sit on my face so I can fuck my tongue deep into you."
Stacey shuddered violently. He was the type of man who enjoyed going down on a woman. Would enjoy driving her crazy and owning her in such a highly personal way. Branding her, making her his.
Today, she wanted to be his.
Clutching the back of the sofa for balance, she came down, biting back the sounds that would have escaped as his hot breath gusted across her wet skin.
"Yes," he purred, his large hands holding the cheeks of her ass and urging her into him. He started licking her, long slow licks, dipping into each groove and crevice, breathing harshly against her. He teased her clit, fluttering feather-light and hummingbird-quick across it.
"Right there," she whispered, rocking into the maddening motion. A firm lick would set her off and she tried to catch it, swiveling her hips, chasing his tongue. Knowing damn well what she needed, Connor moved away from the tiny protrusion, tilted his head, and thrust into her.
"Ah, god!" She was shaking, her fingers white with the strain of gripping the couch back.
Connor growled and pulled her closer, holding her hips and grinding her pussy into his mouth, his tongue fucking fast and deep. Seductive sucking noises filled the air as he drank her down with rough, hungry groans.
The resulting orgasm was devastating, her eyes squeezing shut, her teeth grinding together. Her silence seemed to incite his ardor further. He lifted her and rolled to the side, setting her bottom on the wooden coffee table before looming over her. His lips at her ear, his left hand at her hip, his right dipping between them to position himself at her opening. He lunged hard and deep, pinning her to the surface with the burning length of his thick cock.
She cried out in startled pleasure, her breath caught and held as he thrust one hand into her hair and pulled her head back. He mantled her with his big, hard body. Dominated her. Owned her inside and out. Even his breath was hers. She couldn't breathe without inhaling his exhale.
"Mine," he rumbled, his hand at her hip pulling her hard into him, until there was nothing separating them. He flexed powerfully inside her, as if to say, I am in you. A part of you.
The sensation caught the tail end of her orgasm and caused her to clench tighter around him, reigniting the fading convulsions of her climax.
He groaned as she rippled up and down the length of his cock, his sweat-slick forehead pressing tightly to hers. "You were made for me."
The fit was perfect, if a little snug. Prior to meeting Connor she could have sworn she couldn't take a cock that big. But he made her so damn hot and wet. She rotated her hips in a tentative circle, just to get the full effect of his size.
"Oh!" she gasped, as everything tightened up, ready for more.
"Yes," he crooned, his lean hips grinding right back, restlessly, near mindlessly, his heavy balls resting against the seam of her buttocks. "So good… so fucking good…"
Her arms were behind her, palms flat on the coffee table, propping her up. "Fuck me," she begged, rolling her hips into him, feeling every bit like a desirable passionate woman. Something she hadn't felt like in far too long.
"I am fucking you, sweetheart." He rose slightly, giving her an eyeful of taut, sweat-sheened abs and revealing the fact that he was still wearing his jeans and boots. That made Stacey even hotter, the look he wore of a man who couldn't bother with getting undressed because he wanted her too badly to spare the time.