Kiss the Sky (35 page)

But begging sounds weak.
Internally
,
I can plead for his cock. Outwardly, how the fuck am I going to grovel?

“Please, can I have that box?” I ask, softening my usual
coarse words. I didn’t do so awful, right?

He doesn’t move. “Didn’t you say something about graduating
with honors?” he asks in amusement. Yes, I often remind him of this fact in
arguments. It’s not really a winning point considering he graduated with the
same accolades.

“Highest honors,” I refute anyway, my eyes swimming with
challenge. I like arguing with him far too much. I have a feeling it’s going to
get me into trouble tonight.

“
Highest
honors.”
His lips twitch. “Well then, if you’re so smart you should know how to beg
properly.”

“I said please.”

“Say it like you mean it.” He sets the black box on my bare
chest, the velvet smooth on my skin. With my hands tied to the headboard,
there’s no way to open it myself.

“Do you want me to call you
sir,
is that it?” I have no idea how far we’re taking this.

His eyes darken. “I have my own way of doing things, my own
rules.” He skims my leg with his fingers, which tightens the aching, pissed-off
spot that dearly, dearly wants him. “Sir is impersonal. You can call me Connor,
or if you’re really good, I’ll even let you call me Richard.”

His words relax my shoulders. My eyes drift back to the box
on my breasts, and impatience strikes me cold. “Just open it,
Connor,
” I say angrily.

He squeezes my kneecap in a firm clutch, and that hand
descends to the top of my thigh, his fingers gripping my flesh. “
No
.”

How can one word carry so much force? I clamp my thighs
tighter, my bony ankles hurting as they dig into each other. I am so naked. So
aroused. And I have to beg to get what I want. I can feel how wet I’m becoming,
and he raises his eyebrows knowingly.

The spot between my legs clenches.

Jesus Christ.

The longer the anticipation, the more torture. So I suck up
my pride and take a deep breath.

“Please, please,
please
open the box,” I plead in a whispered tone. “I want it badly.”

To my surprise, he snaps the velvet case, flipping the lid.
My heart careens as I absorb all the diamonds, strung together in long rows.
The entire necklace is made of them. It shines and glitters in the dimmed
light, the jewelry turning me on almost as much as his words.
 

And then I finally see past the linked gemstones to realize
what type of necklace this is. Not just a choker. No. These diamonds are
embedded into a leather band with a silver buckle at the back.

It’s a collar.

Anger boils in me like nothing before. “I’m not your pet.”

“You are my pet.” He climbs further onto the bed. “You’re
also my girl. My lover. As I am your man. The only difference…” He pauses,
drawing out the tension between us. “I’ll always be on top.” With both of his
hands, he has hold of my legs and in one motion, he spreads them apart. I try
to writhe against him and return my thighs to the “locked-you-can’t-have-me”
position, but he glares. And a Connor Cobalt glare is very,
very
hard to come by. His new dark
expression causes my body to go utterly still.

And then the corners of his lips curve upward. Like a
fucking prick.

“Gloat all you want. I’m not wearing it,” I snap.

His smile spreads from his mouth to his eyes. “Stop me
then,” he challenges. But he has pinned me down with his body. His pelvis in
line with mine, his erection hard against a spot that hates and loves him.
 

I can’t stop Connor.

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.”

Translation:
I love
you.

His thumb skims my bottom lip. Oh, that thumb…

And then he plunges in, so hard and fast that I cry out. The
pain comes all at once, but it’s slowly usurped by more pleasant sensations. He
thrusts, pulsing each one in deep succession, the rhythm blinding my vision. I
tilt my head back, my eyelids fluttering, trying to stay sane. The fullness
drives me to a new place, but it’s the way his hips pound into me, his force as
I stay bound to the headboard, that truly sends me over.

He grips my thighs for support as he pushes deeper. He lifts
one of my legs higher to fit more of him inside me. I gasp and struggle against
the belt restraints.
Connor…

My whole world spins.

I’m drenched in sweat while a hot layer gathers across his
skin. I’m also soaked between my legs, and if I concentrate on just how deep he
stays, just how far he goes, how it seems like his cock rides into my belly, my
back begins to arch. My rotating world lights on fire.

He groans as he hooks my leg underneath his arm, holding it
up, rampaging my body like it belongs to him for this purpose.

God yes…

Why the hell did I wait so long?

The headboard
rap
rap
raps
against the wall, and Connor breathes in low
ragged breaths through his nose, the determination in his eyes fucking me just
as much as his cock. I want him to choke me. To steal my oxygen for a second.

And just like that, he grabs my leather collar while
thrusting, not missing a beat. And he uses the collar to lift my neck up to his
face, our lips meeting. He kisses me hungrily, passionately,
eagerly
—and he chokes me of air this
way, my lips swell underneath his, numb to the pressure, his minty taste
swirling in my mouth with his tongue.

As he thrusts again, he hits a spot that breaks my lips from
his and mangles my voice. It was a noise from a place five-thousand-feet high,
in a cloud.

He watches my excitement, and his arousal continues to grow,
his muscles tightening, never letting up. He increases his speed.
Faster.

Holy…

No breaks. Not even as more sweat beads our skin. We create
heat like we’re gods.

I don’t know how he deepens his movement, but he does. My
noises escalate until I can’t contain anything anymore. And he pulls at the
collar again, kissing my parted lips once and twice before setting my head back
on the pillow. Then he reaches up to my hand on a rung of the headboard. He
interlaces his fingers with mine, holding me as he drives me to my climax.

My sex clenches around him, three or four times, my entire
body writhing. My toes curling, my moans morphing into deep breaths of dizzy
pleasure.

“Let it out,” he whispers in my ear as he continues his
mind-numbing pace.

Tears prick my eyes as I fall down from the high, but he’s
not done. I realize he hasn’t come yet. He continues to rock against me,
building me back up.

I never want this feeling to leave.

As if he senses this, he makes the moment, somehow, pass
like an eternity.

And then we both reach the peak in unison. When he comes, he
thrusts forward, hard, and then he rocks his hips against me, milking his
climax until we’re both lightheaded and breathing heavy.

As everything slows, I become acutely aware of my
surroundings and thoughts again. Of what happened. I was the virgin in this
scenario. He’s done this before, and I want to know if I was awful. Or if he’s
had someone better. I’m competitive by nature. In bed—I want to be the best
he’s ever had. It might be too much to ask.

His chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath.
He hovers above me as if preparing to do it all over again.

I kind of hope so.

And then he begins to laugh, his smile enveloping his
face—not in humor but in happiness.

“What?” I ask softly.

He stares at me like I’m the only one he wants here.
Underneath him. “You and me,” he says and licks his lips. “We fuck like
winners.”

I grin. He didn’t say
I
fuck like a winner. It was
we
. Us.
Together.

“You have ten seconds,” he tells me, “before I take you
again. You ready?”

Oh yeah. I’m ready.

[ 31 ]

CONNOR COBALT

We didn’t do it once. Or twice. Or even three
times. After I exhausted her mind and body, I finally begin to untie her from
the bed.

Her eyes flutter wearily, but she fights to stay awake, a
quality I admire.