Kiss the Sky (Calloway Sisters #1)(88)

Even if I truly wanted to.

I’m barely breathing as he delicately wraps the leather choker around my neck. His fingers graze my skin as he buckles it in the back.

My anger is replaced by this feral need for him. My entire body screams for his touch, to know what he would feel like within me. And for the first time, I’m about to find out.

He leans back to soak in my body, my position and readiness. I watch his eyes flit from my new diamond collar, to my reddened breasts from his hands, to my naked flesh that cries for him. Just come inside me already.

He rests a hand on the mattress beside my head, and he kisses my temple, his lips sucking a line down the nape of my neck, grazing over the fullness of my breasts, tantalizingly slow.

“Connor,” I moan, needing him to hurry.

“No talking,” he says huskily, his lips close over my nipple with a strong suction. The force bucks up my hips for more contact with him. He digs his hardness down into me, stifling my movements and stirring my desire.

“Con—”

His hand flies to my lips, muffling my voice. He resumes his exploration of my body with his tongue. I am at the mercy of his mouth, descending at a sluggish, tormenting pace.

All forms of intelligence have deserted me. My thoughts have resorted to a stupid, ridiculous chant. Lower, lower, LOWER!

“Lotherrr!” I mumble against his hand.

Connor bites down on the soft flesh of my hip—hard. The pain shoots up and ignites something new inside of me. Something stronger and headier. Spanking—I like. Choking—I like. So I shouldn’t be surprised that biting my hip flushes my cheeks and neck. But it does.

I like to be bitten.

Like a goddamn vampire.

Dear God.

“Shh,” Connor whispers with a forceful tone. He kisses the reddened mark on my hip and continues his descent. His lips finally graze my clit, flicking against the sensitive bud, and my entire body responds by jumping, my heart taking the biggest leap. A high-pitched noise catches in my throat, and I whimper.

His lips part at my sound, his breath deepening. He removes his hand from my mouth and lifts his head from between my legs. My eyes immediately fall to his pants where his erection tries, pathetically, to remain hidden.

He’s big, even beneath the fabric.

Any words that I anticipated saying have been lost to rawer senses. Like the way he sheds his pants slowly, without ever peeling his eyes from mine. Desire, passion, lust, they all spin inside me like a whirlpool with no bottom, no end, no resolution to these feelings.

He slips off his navy boxer-briefs, his cock in full view and closer than ever before. Connor nudges my legs open with his knees, locking them to a position for his use. He grabs my ass, squeezing and lifting me into his hands, stretching my arms that stay fastened to the headboard.

I’m horny and so confused.

Because he never slows, never hesitates. Not to put on a condom. The nerves that I kicked aside abruptly crash into me like a hundred foot wave.

Connor freezes, going still, concern shadowing his powerful gaze.

I must wear confusion on my face, a rarity for me.

“Speak,” he orders.

My throat has gone dry. I’m doing this all wrong again, I think. He continues to hold my bottom in his hands, my legs wrapped around his waist, but he sets me on the bed, no longer prepared to enter me.

Fuck.

“Dammit, Rose,” Connor glares. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re going to wear a condom, right?” I phrase it like a question, which makes me cringe. Normally I’d just command him to wrap his dick.

Connor’s shoulders slacken, and he lets out a breath of relief. I realize I scared him, an emotion he rarely feels. I suppose we’re bringing out new sentiments in each other.

I tap his thigh with my ankle. “I have one in my bag.”

A smile slowly overtakes his face. “Do you? Were you expecting to get laid on this trip?”

“I’m always prepared,” I remind him, trying to hide my own smile.

He picks up my foot and places a light kiss on the bottom of my heel. “No condoms,” he suddenly says.

“What?” I snap.

“I don’t want anything between us,” he tells me. He scoots forward, his hardness so very near, and his hands slide from my knees to my thighs. “I want to fill you, Rose, even after I pull out and hold you in my arms.” He wants to come inside you, Rose. I could stare at the ceiling and say, Thank you, Lord, but Connor would be so pissed. The thought almost urges me to do it, but the sensible part of me returns.

Because if he doesn’t use a condom that means… “We can’t…” I shake my head. “We can’t be hypocrites. Loren and Lil—”

“Are irresponsible,” Connor finishes for me. “Lily forgets to bathe and eat, and we both know she regularly forgets to take birth control, which is why we remind Loren to use condoms. And you, Rose, are the most responsible woman I know.”

His words have a way of placating worries, even mine.

I nod. This is it.

I can’t help but stare at his blue eyes that swim with a familiar ambition and passion. This is Connor, I remind myself. For ten years, I’ve known him. And not very many people ever truly do.

He’s roped to my gaze, inhaling a deep breath. He brushes a piece of damp, sweaty hair from my cheek. “I’ve wanted so many things in life,” he says softly, “but you’re the one that has meant the most to me.”