Castle: A steamy romance novella (Angels Series Book 3)

by Ashleigh Jameson

  A group of guys walking past let out a loud wolf whistle at our public display of affection, and I feel my cheeks heat up as I break into a fit of giggles.

  "You're corrupting me, Mister Connor," I say.

  "That's because you're such a tease, Miss McKinley. We are getting take out for dinner." Connor says, with a finality to his words.

  Leading me by the hand, we hop into his car and he drives us away.

  I want to ask where we are going, but it doesn't really matter. As long as he's with me.

  Connor is focused on the road, his jaw tense and eyes narrow as he zips in and out of traffic. He's probably going to end up with a speeding ticket to go along with the parking ticket. I seem to be costing this man quite a bit of money.

  I should make it up to him.

  Wriggling my body to the side, I reach for his trousers. His large shaft forms a visible outline against his thigh, and I gently rake my nail over his length, making it twitch.

  I pull my hand back.

  "Don't stop," Connor says. He's still watching the road, but his breathing has picked up.

  Grabbing my hand, he presses it against himself and begins stroking his cock with it.

  I let him use my hand, watching in awe as the size of his bulge increases more and more.

  Never have I ever wanted a man's cock in my mouth more than I do in this moment. I want Connor to lose himself in me while he's incapable of doing anything with his hands. I want to wield the power over him like he did with me yesterday, although I know full well that as soon as the car stops, this man will make me pay for it dearly.

  I can't wait.

  Connor signals left at Aftenbury Road, leading us into a quiet street which runs through the back buildings near Canary Wharf. Banks and service offices tower above us. The lights are still on in some of them, and I wonder if anyone can see us.

  That thought only serves to turn me on more, and I begin fumbling with Connor's zipper. Pulling it down, I slip my hand inside, only for him to stop me.

  "What now?" I pout.

  "You think I'll let you suck me off while I'm unable to touch you?" Connor smirks, shaking his head.

  He suddenly pulls off the road, and into the car park of what seems to be a hotel.

  Adjusting himself, he exits the car before opening my door.

  We walk hand in hand towards a lift lobby, which is brightly lit with expensive black couches dotted around, and a uniformed guard. Connor shakes his hand then leads me inside a lift which brings us to the thirty fifth floor.

  It's only when we exit that I realise this isn't some hotel. It's a block of flats.

  Ridiculously expensive flats.

  "My God," I whisper as Connor leads me down a carpeted path towards door number two.

  There's literally only two doors on this entire floor, one on each end.

  He opens the large mahogany door and walks in. Lights come on, illuminating the most incredible flat I've ever been in.

  It's huge.

  This whole place looks like the interior of one of those fancy furniture shops I always pass by on my way to work.

  "Wow," is all I can say.

  The highlight of Connor's flat is that there are no front walls in the massive sitting room. In its place are huge floor to ceiling windows overlooking the wharf. The windows run across the entirety of the front in this flat.

  Walking over, I press my nose against the cold glass, staring into the water below. Everything is dark at this hour, save for the lights from nearby buildings and street lamps which dance in the night sky beneath us.

  "You like it?" Connor asks, handing me a glass of wine.

  "I love it."

  "Good."

  Taking me by the crook of my elbow, he leads me to what looks like a ten seater couch. It's shaped in a semi circle facing a huge plasma TV. It's only as I'm sitting down that I realise what's missing from this beautiful place.

  The reason it feels like a fancy hotel suite, is because it is one. There's nothing in here that's personal to Connor. No photo frames, no plants, no quirky cushions or throws. It's an incredibly comfy place, but it just doesn't feel like home.

  Why doesn't he have pictures of himself? Of his friends and family?

  Does he have anyone in his life? Someone to look after him?

  Kneeling down in front of me, Connor pierces me with his eyes. There's so much truth in their depths. I see hurt, and pain. Loss.

  I cup his face, bringing my lips to his, and kiss him softly.

  "I'm here," I whisper.

  Alarm bells go off in my head. I wasn't supposed to get mixed up with anyone. Hell, I've only just got out of a long term relationship. What the hell am I doing?

  But I can't help myself. I just can't think straight around Connor. We speak on a wavelength so different to what I'm used to. Verbal communication is meaningless between us.

  Connor reaches his hands into my hair, pulling me closer so he can kiss his way down my neck.

  "What are you doing to me, woman?" He asks, nibbling my delicate skin.

  "The same thing you're doing to me."

  Lust simmers in me, threatening to boil over. I can't control myself anymore.

  I push Connor's jacket off and tear his shirt open. Buttons fall onto the wooden floor with soft clicks as I stare at his exposed torso in shock.

  A myriad of scars line his powerful physique. Long gashes, and small stabs. Some of them have no shape, it's like random pieces of something were thrust into his skin, leaving a permanent reminder of their existence.

  Connor tries to pull the fabric of his shirt back together but I stop him.

  "Don't."

  Grabbing the material, I push it down past his shoulders.

  And burst into tears.

  Connor stays still, watching as I study his body with hot tears streaming down my face.

  So many scars.

  What has this man been through? How can anybody go through so much pain?

  I trace my hands over his skin, studying the marks.

  They run up and down his shoulders, along his neck, tattooed chest and belly. I can only imagine the state of his back.

  "How?" I whisper.

  "Does it matter?"

  "Yes."

  "I was a soldier," he says. "And then I was a bodyguard. I've only known violence all my life. These are the mementos I picked up along the way."

  I want to know them. I want to know each individual scar, and the time will come for that.

  The time will come.

  Because I'm never leaving this man. For as long as I can, I'm going to be by his side. I want him to know that life is beautiful.

  I want him to know I will never hurt him. I'll never leave a scar on him, physical or otherwise.

  "Connor, I..."

  He silences me with a kiss. A deep, powerful kiss that negates the need for words.

  He feels this too, I know he does.

  Our kiss deepens and we take from each other until we're breathless. Pulling away, I stare at him.

  "I want you," I say.

  Connor scoops me over his shoulders then walks to the master bedroom. He tosses me onto a huge bed, framed with sturdy metal beams.

  "I'm going to take you, Lizzie," he growls, grabbing hold of my jeans and tearing them off.

  My top quickly follows suit, leaving me clad in just my lingerie. Half naked, but completely wet.

  Connor sees this. His eyes cloud over when he takes in the sight of the wet fabric between my legs.

  He's on me in an instant, pushing my thighs wide apart as his mouth finds my oh so sensitive spot. He licks me firmly through my knickers, sending bolts of pleasure up my belly. Next, he hooks both thumbs into the soft lacy material and tears them open completely.

  I gasp as the fabric rips like cheap paper.

  "They were beautiful, but not as beautiful as this pink pussy," he says.

  Dipping his head, he sucks my little nub between his lips as his magical fingers work th
eir way in me.

  I've replayed yesterday's events so many times in my mind that my body is now coiled up so tightly, that the moment Connor flicks his fingers up, my entire back arches and I let out an ear piercing scream.

  My walls clench so hard around his fingers that they threaten to push them out. But Connor stays put, rubbing my G spot like a pro, swelling it so much until I explode in a burst of pleasure.

  "Oh my fucking God!"

  I thrash around the mattress as my pussy explodes onto him. Hot cum jets out of me, soaking Connor's arm before dripping down my naked thighs and onto his sheets.

  He keeps going, making me ride this wave for what seems like an eternity of bliss, pressing down onto my belly to hold me in place. By the time I finally stop cumming, my throat is hoarse from the screaming while my pussy screams for more.

  Falling back onto the bed, I lay perfectly still, trying to catch my breath.

  "You're so fucking hot when you cum," Connor says, standing up. "Look what you've done to me."

  He pulls his trousers and boxers down, and his erect cock springs out.

  It's thick and heavy. Harder than any I've ever seen.

  I wet my lips, getting up to my knees.

  "Come here and suck this cock, gorgeous. Wrap those naughty lips around me and show me what a good little cocksucker you are."

  I moan at how dirty his words are. More than that, those words being directed at me sends a flush of excitement through my body.

  Without a second of hesitation, I grab his thighs and push my mouth over him, savouring his delicious musky scent. I take him as far back as I can, yet by the time he's hitting the back of my throat, there's still plenty left to go.

  I wrap a hand around the balance of his shaft, then begin sucking and stroking for all I'm worth.

  "Oh, shit," Connor growls, grabbing me by the hair.

  My jaw aches, and I'm dribbling all over his engorged cock, but I don't care. He makes me feel like a wanton slut and I fucking love it. I fucking love sucking this big cock like a good little whore.

  "Jesus, woman," he gasps. "You're going to make me fill that pretty mouth up if you don't slow down."

  I ask him to fill me, but the only thing that leaves my mouth is a strangled sound.

  "Let me fuck that dirty mouth. Put your hands behind your back."

  I do as I'm told, and Connor cups my jaw. He begins thrusting in and out of me, being careful not to hit the back of my throat.

  His moans grow louder, and I feel him swell even more, like that's possible.

  I want him to cum in my mouth. I want to swallow every drop of him. I want to do something I've never done before.

  But he suddenly stops, and pulls himself out.

  "Hands and knees," he snarls. "Now."

  Scrambling around, I get into position.

  "Get that sexy arse higher up for me. I want it spread out so I can enjoy you."

  I widen my thighs, then lower myself into my forearms.

  "Good girl. Look at your tight little holes, just waiting for me."

  I feel the mattress sink beneath Connor's weight, and his knees nudge my thighs even farther apart. He grabs my bum firmly, spreading me open.

  Closing my eyes, I brace myself for his massive cock to slide in.

  Instead, his tongue finds my clit again, and he licks me all the way up.

  All.

  The.

  Way.

  Biting the sheets, I moan deeply as his mouth begins exploring a place I've never let any man near. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but a primal urge shuts my brain down entirely as his tongue flicks and probes me. Little sparks of electricity follow, lighting me up with each stroke until I'm pushing my bum against him, begging for more.

  And he gives it.

  Connor keeps going until another orgasm hits me, crumpling me down with its sheer force.

  "On your knees." He orders.

  I try, I really do, but I'm too weak to move.

  Gripping my hips, Connor hoists me back up into position.

  I hear the tear of a foil packet, and soon feel the bulbous head of his cock pressing against my entrance.

  "Fuck me," I beg. "Fuck me with that big cock, please."

  He pushes into me, inch by inch until I feel like I'm going to be split in two.

  I gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to accommodate him.

  He's much, much bigger than any man I've ever been with. Which was just the one.

  Hell, Connor is bigger than any damn toy I own.

  "Are you okay, gorgeous?" He asks breathlessly. "I don't want to break your pretty pussy so soon."

  I nod, biting the pillow and preparing for what's to come next.

  Connor withdraws very slowly, until he's nearly completely out, then slams into me with such force that the entire bed shifts.

  "Fuck!" I scream in shock.

  Grabbing my bum, Connor holds me in place and starts pummelling into me. His thrusts are long and powerful. He brands my insides with his mark.

  The mark of the devil.

  The whole room disintegrates, and I start seeing fireworks as he picks up the pace.

  "Tell me you're my fucking slut."

  "I'm your fucking slut, baby," I moan, pushing myself back against him harder and harder.

  "That's right. My fucking slut. Mine." He growls, raining spanks down on my bum.

  "Whose pussy is this?"

  "It's yours baby, its your fucking pussy."

  Connor's moans get louder, and I feel his cock swell again.

  He slams into me like a freight train as he finally unloads, roaring his release like a beast.

  He pulls me onto him as he drops onto the bed.

  Connor's heart is beating so fast, I can hear it go like a drum in his chest. I press my face on him, gently kissing over his beautifully scarred skin.

  He just dissolved everything I thought I knew about sex.

  He showed me that I've never even had real sex before, and now I don't want to go back.

  I never want to be without him.

  Connor strokes my hair gently while our breathing slowly returns to normal.

  "I love you," I whisper, as sleep comes for me.

  Maybe I'm dreaming, in a state of orgasmic bliss where the world doesn't make sense anymore.

  But I'm sure, as I drift into slumber, that I hear him say "I love you too."

  8

  Lizzie

  Waking up in Connor's arms is a dream come true. Cradled tightly within his powerful embrace, I snuggle up to his warmth. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, with the morning sun dancing delicately off his rough features.

  Such a contrast, hard and soft. Strength and vulnerability.

  My body is deliciously sore this morning.

  We had sex until the early hours, with short breaks in between for pizza and a nap. My body craves his touch, and he took me in every which way. Used me for his pleasure. And I accepted him greedily.

  This is what sex is supposed to feel like.

  I've been so lost, thinking I'm broken for never having a high sex drive when I was with Jack. Now I know the issue was never with me. It was my choice of partner.

  The view I had of myself as a straight laced, demure, albeit occasionally coy lady went out the window the instant Connor laid eyes on me from across the crowd that night.

  He awoke something else within me.

  An insatiable, powerful goddess. He makes me feel empowered and submissive all at once, and I'm crazy about him. Crazier than I've ever been about anyone in my life.

  I smile. This is just madness. A couple of days ago, I was insisting that nothing more will ever develop with this man. I would use him for my physical pleasure and that'll be all. Now here I am, thinking of all the love and sunsets I wish to share with him.

  I'm thinking of nursing whatever pain he carries inside. To cherish him, and to love him. To give him so much love that he forgets the darkness that lurks behind his beautiful eyes.

>   I know he feels the same way. I see the way he looks at me. Hear it in the gentleness in which he speaks to me. Feel it in the soft touch of his lips on mine. The way he kisses my nose so softly. How he winks when he catches me staring at him.

  For every sordid thing he does to me in the heat of passion, he counteracts it with the most loving of gestures. The man is a bloody walking contradiction.

  Reaching a hand to his bedside dresser, I retrieve my phone, annoyed to see the battery nearly dead.

  More than that, however, I'm annoyed to see an email sitting in my inbox.

  From Pinkleworth Holdings.

  Frowning, I open it.

  Jack.

  Fury boils within me as I read the message.

  Jack Pinkleworth is listed on the company's register as the person of significant control at Lizzie's Threads, my company. My baby.

  He mansplained this decision to me, saying it was best to have him in that role due to his family's influence. It'll make getting loans easier, and will also help with the overall standing of the company. His financial adviser, an oily looking character named Bob, enthusiastically nodded at Jack's suggestion, his three chins agreeing in unison.

  In my eagerness to build something of my own, I idiotically agreed. Jack was my life partner after all, the man I'll one day marry, and whose kids I would bear.

  However, a person with significant control has the power to overthrow the Director of a business. Me.

  As soon as we ended things, I sought legal advice on how to proceed. I was hoping to approach Jack amenably and ask him to step down from the role. Surely he doesn't need anything from my little company, with the vast wealth he already has?

  But clearly he's a spiteful bastard.

  His email has requested my resignation from the role of Director, to be duly replaced by Annie Lewis.

  Seeing her name brings tears of rage to my eyes.

  He's snatching away my baby and giving it to the woman he was shagging on the side? He's giving that bloody home wrecker everything I've slogged away for?

  How dare he!

  How fucking dare he?

  This is my business. My life.

  The only way he's taking Lizzie's Threads from me is over my dead body.

  Jumping off the bed, I get dressed in last night's clothes.

  "What's wrong?"