Needing Her (From Ashes #1.5)(39)
“I was stopped in the hall by one of your random f*cks, and she was so kind as to remind me that you call all your one-night stands ‘sweetheart,’ and that you’d say all the right things and make me feel special for a little while before leaving me, like you’ve done all the rest.”
“Maci—”
“I can’t believe I was f*cking stupid enough to forget that you called them all ‘sweetheart.’ I was so happy that you and I were finally together, that I didn’t even realize it when you called me that. In fact, I loved it.” Connor opened his mouth, but I kept talking. “I’m not going to be one of your random hookups!”
“You’re not! When have I ever treated you like one? I’ve told you from the beginning that you weren’t like them. Did I ever let one of them stay over? No! And you know that. I’m sorry calling you that made you think that, but you have to know by now that I would never do to you what I did to them. I was an * to them, and, granted, I’ve been an ass to you so many times. But, Maci . . . can you really not see that you’re everything to me? I can barely make it through a shift because all I want to do is get home to see you. I’ve been going out of my mind all day knowing you were mad at me, and I just—you know what? Fuck it. You’re never going to believe me. This is what you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been waiting for something to give you a reason to get pissed at me again. So now you have it.”
Laughing loudly, I ran one hand roughly through my long hair and tried not to start crying again. “You found me out. Congratulations! Obviously you know your way out. So, have an awesome f*cking life, sweetheart.”
Connor had started walking out of my room, but stopped, and turned back toward me. Quickly closing the distance between us, he grabbed me and crushed his mouth to mine. I pushed against his chest, but he didn’t move away.
His lips only left mine long enough to say, “I’m not letting you do this to us.”
“Connor—”
“Maci, I know I took a long time to finally realize what you mean to me, and I know it’s only been a week and a half. But I know you’re in this deep . . . just as deep as I am. Do you think I’d risk my friendship with my two best friends for some random f*ck? No. You know I want you, and, Maci, I want you so goddamn bad, it’s all I think about. And don’t say it’s just about sex with you, because you know it’s not. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t wake up with you in my arms tomorrow morning. I hate watching you walk away from me, I hate getting out of bed when you’re in it with me, and I know you feel the same.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I seriously f*cking hate you right now,” I choked out.
Connor’s thumbs brushed back my tears and he shook his head. “No you don’t.”
His mouth fell onto mine again, and it was all I could do to hold onto him. He moved us until my back was pressed to my bedroom wall, and his tongue teased my lips until I opened them for him. A whimper rose up my throat when our tongues met, and I moved my hands over his broad shoulders and up his neck so I could run my fingers through his hair.
Slowly, his hands ran over my waist and dropped to my hips. Usually we were ripping each other’s clothes off, but the controlled way he rid me of my jeans—his mouth leaving mine to make a trail down my bare chest as he took them all the way off—had my breath accelerating. Lazy, openmouthed kisses made a trail back up my body, and his hands went to the scrap of fabric covering my torso. With movements just as slow and calculated as before, he pushed the fabric up over my shoulders and down my arms, pushing the rest of the shirt past my hips so it fell to the ground.
Gripping the backs of my thighs, he pulled me up against the wall, pinning me there so I had no option but to wrap my legs around his still-clothed body. But the moment my legs locked around his hips, he was turning us and walking us toward my bed. My hands went between us to grab at the bottom of his shirt once he’d laid me down and stayed hovering inches above me. With help from him, his shirt was thrown over the edge of the bed, and my hands eagerly went to the belt on his jeans. I barely had the belt and jeans undone, and down to his thighs, before he was already pushing against my entrance. The second they hit the floor, Connor was slowly sliding into me, and I couldn’t stop the erotic moan from leaving me.
Every movement against each other was slow, and in sync. Every movement had my blood rushing through my veins, and my stomach tightening in a delicious way. Every movement had the tears falling faster down my face and into my hair as I finally accepted that I’d fallen in love with him.
He hooked a hand behind one of my knees and brought my leg to rest on his back as he gently made love to me for the first time; and his lips met mine briefly before going to my wet cheeks to kiss away the tears. When our movements quickened, nothing about the passion that was flooding my room changed. Everything still felt like it was going in slow motion, and every time his body moved against mine, I struggled with not telling him the three words that were repeating themselves over and over in my mind.
I gasped, and my body felt like it burst into a million pieces seconds before Connor stilled above me.
He’d been rough, he’d been intense, he’d finally lost control with me, and he’d exuded raw power every time we’d been together. I’d craved more, and loved every second of us together the last week and a half. But he’d never been like this. He’d never been gentle; he’d never been this loving; it had never felt like this; and I wanted it again and again.