Sweet Possession (Sweet #5)(68)

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 pu**y 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 pu**y 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 f**k 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 f**ked. So f**ked.

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.

CHAPTER 26

It was somehow fitting that during the night a cold front moved through and brought with it raw, rainy temperatures. In a lot of ways, it suited Lyric’s mood.