“Oh Connor,” I whispered.
He opened his eyes. They were completely feverish – possessed, almost. He stared at me – mesmerizing, powerful – and then he moved in, pressing his body against mine. His right hand cupped the side of my face, and he lifted my head to his as he leaned over and kissed me.
His lips barely touched mine at first, but an electric current of desire flowed between us. The caress was enough to send shivers through my entire body – but then his lips pressed more firmly against mine. His hand brushed against my jaw, then down my neck and shoulders, and finally he put both hands around my waist as he pulled me against him and kissed me sweetly, passionately, longingly.
My knees were reduced to jelly. I grasped him with my hands and opened my lips to him, letting him inside me.
His tongue met mine, and he kissed me so deeply that it took my breath away. Only his strong arms around me kept me from falling. Warmth and wetness and desire rushed through me. I had never wanted him more than before that moment.
His tongue pulled away from mine, but he kissed my lips over and over, the gentlest of touches, as his hands roved against my bare back and down to my ass, cupping me, pulling me hard against his hips.
I moaned into his mouth, and he pressed me even tighter against him, letting me feel him getting thicker and harder against my body.
I was so wet.
God, I wanted him so badly.
But at that moment he chose to break away.
I gasped, my breasts heaving under my dress. His gaze took me in greedily, and then he stared deep into my eyes.
I was afraid he was going to say something about having to leave, so I spoke first.
“Is there someplace… more private we can go?” I whispered.
The flames in his eyes became a bonfire.
“Yes,” he said with a smile, then draped an arm around me and pulled me out of the ballroom through a hidden exit in the back.
35
We entered a service hallway of some sort, long and white and lit by fluorescent lights. Waiters and waitresses in black vests and crisp white shirts shuttled back and forth to the ballroom carrying silver platters of drinks and hors-d’oeuvres. They watched in shock as we walked by them, their heads turning as we passed.
Not every day you see a walking sex scandal, I guess.
There was a loud clack behind us and the tap tap of running shoes. We turned back to see Johnny entering the hallway through the same door we’d used. At first he looked panicked – until he spotted us thirty feet away. He gave Connor an admonishing schoolmarm look, then followed along discretely at a distance.
“I can’t ever get rid of that guy,” Connor joked.
“And you shouldn’t,” I scolded him.
“I was afraid he was going to pull me back to the party.”
My step faltered the tiniest bit. “Do you… want to go back?”
“Oh hell no,” he grinned, and let his hand trace down to the curve of my ass.
Then his expression froze and slowly faded. The hand moved a couple of inches up to my waist.
“Unless… that’s not what you had in mind,” he said, his voice neutral.
“No, that’s exactly what I had in mind.”
The relief on his face was immense and immediate. “Thank God.”
I had to stifle a laugh.
He grinned and gave me a tiny, fleeting kiss, then guided me to another doorway.
We exited into a recessed alcove, and suddenly we were back in the lobby of the hotel. But this time we were far away from the crowd and closer to another part I remembered: the private elevator for the penthouse.
The nearest people in the lobby were over a hundred feet away, and hadn’t noticed us at all.
“It’s like a spy movie with all your secret passageways,” I whispered.
“That’s me: international master of catering halls,” he said drily, and hit the button for the penthouse elevator.
The door in the alcove opened, and Johnny strode into the hallway just as the elevator door opened.
Connor saluted his bodyguard jauntily and pulled me inside the elevator, then immediately hit the ‘Close Door’ button.
“You don’t want him coming with us?” I teased as the doors slid closed.
“No, I don’t,” Connor said, and leaned down and kissed me again.
He was even more passionate this time, his hands roving over my body, caressing my skin, pulling my hair to force my head back and expose my neck, which he kissed up and down in a frenzy. I just closed my eyes and let him do whatever he wanted – though my hand found its way down below his belt, where my fingers softly traced the thick, straining outline of his cock.
He grunted as my fingers cupped him through the cloth. “Lily,” he whispered in my ear, and I felt myself grow even wetter when I felt the desire in his voice and the tickle of air across my skin.
The elevator slowed down, the bell dinged, and he swept me up into his arms, the same way he had carried me into the hotel in Vegas. Taken by surprise, I gave a delighted little shriek – but then I just enjoyed the feeling of his strong arms supporting my body and cradling me against his chest.
That, and the slow, lingering kiss he was giving me at the same time.
He carried me to the doorway and paused our kiss to tap in the code. The light turned green, the door opened, and Connor carried me inside.
36
The penthouse was just how I remembered it, with the long glass wall and the fairy lights of the Hollywood Hills beyond.
Connor flicked a switch, and soft lighting faded up in a few key spots through the massive room. He kissed me again, then gently set me down on my feet.
He looked into my eyes… and hesitated.
I saw it, clear as day: fear.
Then he smiled, broke away from me, and went over to the bar. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“No,” I said.
My elation was dying down, only to be replaced by growing worry.
He nodded, but set out a glass for himself and poured a shot of bourbon from an expensive-looking bottle. Then he looked down into its depths, taking a second before he lifted his eyes back to me.
“We should talk,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t a good ‘we should talk.’
“No… I’m pretty sure you should take me to the bedroom,” I whispered as seductively as I could.
He grinned involuntarily, but then something in his expression hitched, as though he had experienced a twinge of discomfort. He looked back down at the glass of alcohol… took a deep breath… and pushed it aside. Then he walked back over to me, his eyes soft and pained.
“We need to talk,” he said again.
I shook my head. “No… actually, we don’t.”
He took my clutch away from me and tossed it on the nearest couch, then took both of my hands in his. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”
I shook my head again. “It’s okay.”
“There was a reason.”
My stomach knotted up like a pretzel.
Because I’ve met someone else, I imagined him saying.
Because I’ve fallen in love with another woman.
And – in the grimmest nightmare scenario I could imagine – I’m back with Miranda.
“W… what?” I asked, my voice no louder than a breath.
“I… I still can’t tell you what you want me to say,” he whispered.
If he’d said it out of nowhere five minutes ago, it would have hurt.
But after a parade of the worst things I could imagine, it was almost funny.
I gave a short, relieved laugh. “It’s okay.”
He stared at me, his brows knit. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t understand what?”
“That was a big deal to you.”
I reached up and looped my arms around his neck. “I found out that losing you was much, much worse.”
I strained upwards to kiss him, and h
e bent down and pressed his lips to mine. But after a few seconds, he broke it off and pulled back. “I don’t want to lie to you – ”
“Then don’t,” I whispered, reaching for his lips again.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you, either.”
“You’re not,” I whispered, and brushed my fingers against his face.
“But I hurt you…”
I looked deep into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He took my hands in his. “I don’t want to rush into something… you might regret.”
“I won’t.”
He shook his head. “This is something I might do with someone I… didn’t care about. One last time for the road. And I don’t want it to be like that.”
That stung – but I forced myself to dwell on the words, I don’t want it to be like that.
“It doesn’t have to be,” I reassured him.
I could see the struggle in his eyes. “But I can’t give you want you want – ”
“What I want is you. Right now.”
He searched my eyes, trying to see if I was telling a lie.
But I wasn’t. Right now, all I wanted was him inside me, his naked body pressed against mine.
I traced my fingers along his jacket, let them trail down the front of his pants.
He closed his eyes in strained pleasure, then opened them. “We shouldn’t,” he whispered.
Claim your man.
I reached up, grabbed the back of his head, forced him down against my lips, and kissed him passionately, strongly, deeply. He resisted for just a second – and then he matched me in intensity and power.
But I broke it off this time.
His eyes fluttered open, confused.
“You want to make it up to me?” I whispered.
He looked back and forth between my eyes, sensing a trap. “…yes…”
“Then give me what I want.”
“…what?”
“One more night with you.”
He grinned in spite of himself… but then his smile faded. “I can’t promise you anything beyond that.”
I ignored the hurt his words inflicted, and instead remembered something else Sebastian had said:
Seduce him.
I pulled his head down to my lips so I could whisper in his ear, no louder than a sigh:
“Then fuck me so good it’ll last me the rest of my life.”
I pulled away to see his reaction.
It was halfway between pain and sexual ecstasy.
He stared at me like he couldn’t quite believe who I was.
I bit my lip, which I knew would drive him wild.
It did. His breathing quickened, and I could feel his cock strain against my body as he stared at my lips.
“Connor…” I whispered.
That was all he could take.
37
He swept me into the bedroom, my hands pulling at his tuxedo jacket buttons as I stumbled backwards, his hands supporting me so I wouldn’t fall. The entire time he kissed me fervently, relentlessly. I sighed and moaned as his hands edged beneath my dress, caressing my breasts, and then he smothered my moans with more kisses.
He pulled the thin straps of my dress off my shoulders, and I felt the cloth slide down across my body and cascade at my feet. His arms reached around and unsnapped my strapless bra, and then he was kissing my bare breasts and licking my nipples. He knelt in front of me, kissing my stomach as he went, then hooked his fingers through my underwear and pulled them down to my ankles.
I ran my fingers through his hair and closed my eyes in ecstasy as he kissed my thighs, then between them, his lips brushing lightly over the down of hair between my legs. His tongue gently touched my clit, circled it twice, stoking my fires, teasing me – and then he pressed his face against me and licked deeply, his tongue running across my lips, drenching me in wetness. I moaned and felt the tip of his tongue part me, enter me… and then withdraw.
He stood up in front of me, fully clothed, and me naked except for my high heels. He proceeded to devour me, his arms encircling me, his mouth crashing against mine, ravishing my bare shoulders, his hands pulling at the nape of my hair to bend back my head and expose my neck to his kisses.
The imbalance of power was intoxicating – this handsome, powerful man, fully clothed, seducing me, naked and vulnerable and completely at his mercy.
Except that, even with the imbalance, I felt more powerful with him than I ever had before. I couldn’t get enough of his kisses – and I could not stop my hands from roaming down to his pants and massaging him, both hands cupping his magnificent shaft beneath the cloth. I got the buttons of his tuxedo jacket loose, fumbled open his fly, and after a few seconds – with a little help from him – I freed his cock from his pants.
Oh my GOD it was gorgeous. He was swollen so thick and so huge in my hands that the desire to please him was overwhelming. Actually, it wasn’t even a desire to please him that I felt; it was a burning need to use him for my own pleasure. I wanted him in my mouth; I wanted to taste him; I wanted to feel his hot, feverish skin on my tongue.
I sank onto my knees, my hands trailing down his thighs, and I cradled his glorious cock in both hands and kissed it softly. It contracted and pulsed, and he groaned as I stroked it, kissing it up and down, just using my lips at first, caressing it with little kisses… and then I opened my mouth as far as I could and enveloped his head – but I didn’t touch his skin to mine. I kept my mouth a millimeter away from the head of his cock, letting him feel my hot breath on his skin, making him anticipate my plunging down on him, wet and willing… but I waited there, and let my eyes move up to his face.
He looked like he was about to go crazy. He put his hand on the back of my head to force me down on him, but I broke away, taking my mouth completely away from his cock. I shook my head and wagged one finger at the same time: No no no no no. Then I took his hands and reached around his body, my cheek brushing against his shaft as I did it. I heard him moan in blissful agony, but I ignored it as I placed his hands behind his back.
The message was clear: no touching.
I’m going to do to you what I want to do.
He looked like he might begin groaning in pain, but he dutifully kept his hands behind his back.
I smiled seductively – Good boy – and as a reward, I cupped his balls with my palm and played with and tickled them with my fingers. They moved and pulled tight against his body, and he made a sound like he couldn’t take anymore – but he still left his hands where I’d put them.
Then I put my lips at the base of his long, thick shaft – but not touching the skin, just letting him feel my breath – and I moved upward, breathing against his velvety softness. Maybe halfway up his considerable length I let my tongue touch him, and slowly, wetly, softly glided it along the underside of his cock. He groaned again, and his cock stood up straight and rock-hard as another tiny convulsion made it swell.
Then I got back to the head, where I had originally started. I put my mouth around him again – but not touching him, just breathing on him, teasing him. There was a huge bead of pre-cum on the slit of the swollen crown. I touched the tip of my tongue to it and tasted salty, warm, liquid sex – and then pulled away. He watched me, his eyes wild, as the bead of his wetness pulled away and became a shimmering thread connecting his cock to my lower, pouting lip.
Then I rubbed my lips together, and his juices slid slippery across my skin, wetting them down.
All the while I looked up at him with huge doe eyes, like, Please, oh PLEASE let me suck your cock.
Then I leaned back in and ran the full length of my tongue along the ridge of skin below his swollen crown. As he gasped, I took the head in my mouth completely, sucking softly. I slowly bobbed once… twice… three times, until he filled my mouth.
Then I pulled away, a single strand of his wetness and my saliva intermixed, connecting us. I teased him again, running my tongue up and down the length of his shaft from his tip to his balls…
tickling them… and then slowly returning.
“Jesus, Lily, you’re torturing me,” he gasped.
I looked up at him and winked. “I know,” I cooed.
Then I stood up and lifted my head to his. He leaned down and kissed me hungrily. I enjoyed knowing that he was tasting himself on my lips.
As we kissed, I ran my hands up and down his cock. It was slick and wet and scalding in my hands, and I caressed him, letting my skin glide like wet silk over his throbbing, pulsing shaft.
He groaned even louder as I invaded his mouth with my tongue – all the while slowly stroking up and down his full length, my fingers in a ring around his thickness.
I pulled away. “You’re wearing way too many clothes,” I whispered.
“I can fix that,” he said hoarsely.
I helped pull off his jacket and was struck by an odd sensation; it felt heavier than I expected – much heavier, like it was made of something besides wool or cotton or whatever designer tuxes are made of. But I forgot about it as it dropped to the floor, and I turned my attention to the rest of his outfit.
I got a few of the buttons undone on his shirt, but I was helpless when it came to the black bowtie and the collar. That was fine – he handled it while I ran my hands up and down his sculpted abs and chest, feeling the light curls of his chest hair tickle my skin… and then, just for the fun of it, I bent over and took his cock in my mouth again, fast and wet and as much as I could fit. Then I removed my mouth with a wet pop! and stood back up so I could see his reaction.
His mouth was hanging open and his brows were knit. He looked like a caricature of someone about to say, How dare you!, but I knew his true feelings were more along the lines of Oh God PLEASE don’t stop.
“Now the pants,” I ordered.
He kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks, and unbuttoned the top button above the open fly. Just like he had done to me, I knelt in front of him and hooked my fingers through his underwear and pants and pulled down. Of course, there was something very large and pointing up at a 45 degree angle, so we had to work to get it back through the fly and the underwear down over it – but then I enjoyed pulling his pants down his sculpted thighs, past his knees and massive calves, and into a pile at his ankles and feet.
All That He Loves (Volume 2 The Billionaires Seduction) Page 26
