Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(64)

Any other time that might have struck him as funny, but right now he had only one goal. Taste her, f*ck her. Own her. “Look at me.” He waited until she complied. “I will listen if you say that word. I will listen and stop. Always.”

Her eyes cleared of everything but lust. “I know.”

He dropped onto his stomach between her legs and plunged his tongue inside her. Wood creaked as she screamed and begun to chant his name. His only regret was her fingers not being free to pull at his hair, but he more than consoled himself with her already-spasming flesh, the thighs that locked around his head like a vise. The knowledge that she was entirely at his mercy. Finally.

“Oh God, oh my God. I-I can’t.”

Yes you can. Recognizing the ecstasy in her tone, Connor kept his tongue inside her and added his middle finger, moving them in and out, devastating her with the smooth rhythm. Christ. The taste of her could keep a man alive in the desert. Possessiveness caught him in a stranglehold. Not a man. Him. He could live off her, the taste of her keeping him alive. Living to keep her satisfied. She was warm, wet woman. Ripe and delicious. He would never get enough. Never. But he couldn’t get close enough because her hips worked feverishly in time with her hoarse cries of his name.

“Hold still,” he commanded, crooking two fingers inside her to play with her G-spot. “I need to get my lips around your clit. I’m going to suck that little bud until you pass out. You’ve been keeping her from me, but time’s up, sweetheart. She’s mine.”

Erin started to shake, eyes going blind with her orgasm. The most beautiful goddamn thing he’d ever seen in his life. “N-no more. No more. I can’t—”

He suctioned his mouth over her clit and took a long pull. She shot off the bed, heels digging into his shoulders as she moaned. He took her ankles in his hands and held her legs open on either side of him while he worshiped the most sensitive part of her body. After she’d come once more, he gave her back his fingers and worked her hard, getting her ready to be f*cked. His head was swimming with her, turned on by every lithe, desperate movement of her body. He pictured her as she was, stretched out on the bed, wrists bound as he mouth-f*cked her, and it drove him crazy. His hips started to roll against the edge of the bed, pushing and dragging his cock along the mattress.

Not good enough. Nowhere near good enough. Inside her. Get inside her.

He tore his mouth away with a growl and crawled over her body. The head of his length slipped through her * and his breath shuddered out. Taking hold of himself, he was poised at her entrance when he searched her eyes. What he saw there sent him reeling. Sent him even higher.

She looked…tamed. Owned. From the sweat-dampened pillows where she struggled to catch her breath, she was a woman looking up at her master. It humbled him. It filled him with an unbreakable determination never to live without that trust from her. That trust owned him as much as he could ever own her.

“I was coming back to you,” she whispered.

A weight crushed down on his chest. In the crystal clarity of the moment, with her handing over her terror and doubt to him, to share, to repair, he knew she meant it. “I know.”

The exhilarated smile that spread across her face reached inside Connor and mended every damaged corner of his being. It mended him. Made him whole. It made him want to live forever so he could see the same smile as many times as God would allow. There was no choice before him but to press their bodies together and kiss her.



Erin had lost any sense of space or time. She was everything Connor decided to give her. Everything he decided to make her feel. His to conquer and direct. Yet at the same time, she was there with him, moving in the same patterns, accepting every gift of sensation with a sureness that he would provide with it. There was no uncertainty here, only revelry. The overwhelming intensity of being tied up, trapped, had been transferred to him until he became all she could see, feel, taste. Her all. His mouth moved over hers, hard and delicious, vanquishing any reminder that her arms were bound. He was the only thing binding her now.

This kiss started out slow and savoring, but it built. Oh, it built until they were struggling to wrap their bodies around each other. Growls of desperation, bucking hips, licking skin. His hips wedged between her thighs and even without being inside her, he was already f*cking her. His bulky erection slid through her wet flesh, over her sweaty belly and back down to nudge her entrance.

Instead of thrusting into her like she was physically begging him to do, he took hold of his length and teased her clit with the smooth head, jaw loosening as he groaned. The green of his eyes had turned almost gray in the dim light. His massive body hovered over her like a predator, muscles catching the light and shadows, highlighting every valley and ridge. For the first time, she wished for the use of her hands if only so she could explore that unbelievable body, touch the man who was about to take her. He was f*cking magnificent. And by some twist of luck, he was hers.

His head dipped so he could close his mouth around her nipple, watching her through hooded eyes as he sucked. When she started to writhe, he moved to her other breast and licked it reverently. “After tonight, we won’t talk about how you left ever again. For my sanity, Erin. We won’t discuss it.” With a drive of his hips, he plunged inside her and held her there, pinned, without moving. She couldn’t breathe or think beyond the pressure already building in her abdomen. “For tonight, though, we won’t forget.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m a man who lost his woman and I’m going to f*ck her very hard until she knows what it did to me. I’m going to make sure she never does it again.”