Colorful, p.14
Colorful, page 14
“That’s my girl,” I whispered before I pulled her towards the end of the bed and lowered my mouth.
At the first touch of my tongue to her wet slit, she moaned, her arms back over her face. I smiled and sank deeper, tasting her, groaning when I felt how wet she was for me. I didn’t take it slow, I devoured her, darting my tongue in deep and sucking on her clit. Amara’s moans intensified and I shifted to slide a finger into her hot sheath. She gasped and her hips bucked against my mouth. I used my other arm to press down on her lower abdomen and lapped at her, sinking a second finger deep inside her, my dick weeping, wishing it were buried in her instead.
Soon.
I crooked my fingers inside her, finding that place that made her cry out and her back arch. Again and again, I teased her, licking and sucking, my fingers thrusting and twisting to bring her closer and closer to the edge.
“That’s it, Amara, you’re so goddamn beautiful,” I praised, watching her mouth fall open and her back arch. Her muscles began to tighten around my fingers, and I doubled down, determined to make her come on my mouth and fingers, wanting nothing more than to taste that first release.
“Connor,” she whimpered, rocking helplessly, her thighs trying to close but held open by my shoulders. I moaned against her, the vibrations against her clit the final straw. She gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth as her inner muscles fluttered and clamped down hard. Her back arched beautifully, her moan smothered by her hand, her body flushing warmly. I lapped at her, refusing to let up, dragging out every second of her orgasm until she was pushing at my head.
“Too much, it’s too much,” she panted. I smiled and wiped my mouth before I kissed up her legs and stomach, stopping to suckle at each of her breasts before finally making my way to her mouth. She was hesitant to open to me, and I wondered if she’d ever tasted herself on a man’s lips before. My cock practically split my pants at the thought of me being the first to do this, and something told me I was. She kissed me slowly, deeply, her hands sliding up to my hair again where she dug her nails in gently, dragging a moan from me.
I pulled away gradually and she was panting, her eyes heavy and dark, lust burning back at me. Stepping back, I loosened my belt and dragged it through the loops as I kept my eyes locked with hers. Her breath was unsteady, but she still looked eager, hungry. I dropped the belt to the ground and gripped my shirt at the back of my neck and pulled it up over my head. Amara’s swift intake of breath was like a goddamn medal around my neck as she took in my shirtless chest. I’d seen her looking at me like that before, and it had taken the restraint of a saint not to pounce on her for it. Her eyes followed my hands as they dropped to my jeans, and I leisurely released the button and dragged the zipper down. I almost groaned, both at the feeling of relief and the growing desire on her face.
Hooking my fingers in the sides of my jeans and briefs, I pushed them down and kicked them away from me leaving me standing before her, totally naked. Her eyes were wide and cheeks still pink, but her gaze was lowered to my crotch. My cock jumped at the way she was watching me, and I leaned forward to grab the condom from my wallet before I stepped towards her.
“Can I...” I met her gaze and nodded, watching with bated breath as she hesitantly raised her hand to wrap her fingers around me. I gritted my teeth as she slowly ran her hand up and down my length, exploring, testing. She swiped her thumb across the head of me, smearing the precum and I almost lost my load as she deliberately lifted her finger to her lips and sucked it.
“Fuck,” I gritted out. She lowered her head, her breath hot on my dick, but I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back sharply. She hissed softly, her eyes wide, and I shook my head.
“Not yet, not this time. I need to be inside you so badly; I won’t last if you put your mouth on me.”
Understanding lit her eyes, as well as satisfaction.
“Next time,” she promised. I grinned, glad she was thinking in terms of doing this again. I wanted to talk to her more about the future, our future, but now was not the time.
“Move back onto the bed,” I ordered, gently releasing my grip on her hair and she did as she was told. I stroked my cock as I watched her, and her eyes were locked on the movements. “I saw you the other day in our hotel room,” I began.
“You saw me?” she asked, frowning. I nodded, and continued to stroke myself, and I watched her realize what I meant. “You saw me.”
“Until three minutes ago when you came on my mouth, watching you touch yourself while you thought about me was the single hottest thing I’d ever seen. I had to refrain from barging in and finishing the job myself.”
Amara looked embarrassed that I’d seen her, but she licked her lips and dropped her gaze back to my hand as I continued to stroke myself.
“What did you do?” she whispered.
“This,” I admitted. “I watched you touch yourself and whisper my name, and I stood in the doorway and fucked my fist, imagining it was me beneath the sheets, making you whimper and cry out.”
“Connor,” she hissed, sounding desperate.
“Say it,” I ground out. “I need your words,” I reminded, sliding the condom on, my hands shaking slightly with the need to touch her.
“Connor, I need you. I want you… inside me. Now,” she admitted, but her eyes never left my face.
“My girl needs me?”
She smiled and nodded. “I need you. Now.”
Thank fuck.
I crawled over-top of her, and she spread her thighs to make room for me. Leaning down, I kissed her again, grinding myself against her entrance, my fingers plucking and tweaking her nipples. She moaned, her back arching and her breath rasping. I wanted to make her come again, to tease her some more, but I was afraid that if I didn’t get inside her soon, I’d embarrass myself. I notched myself at her entrance and pulled back to look at her. She tried to cover her face, but I took her hands and pressed them into the mattress by her head.
“I want to look at you when I sink into your body, Dimples, I need to see your eyes when I take you and see the look on your face when I fill you and sink deep inside your body,” I explained, my voice a barely recognizable rumble.
Amara’s wide, violet eyes were unsure but heated, and I rocked forward, the head of my cock sliding inside her. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as I slid deeper inside her, inch by slow inch, enjoying every damn second it took to share her skin. Amara’s eyes fluttered and I paused, gritting my teeth.
“Give me your eyes, Amara.”
She did as she was told. Such a good girl.
I pulled back and rocked forward again, feeling her sheath stretch around my girth, the look of ecstasy on her face was almost enough to make me come. But not yet. I thrust a little harder this time and she cried out.
“Yes, take all of me,” I groaned, feeling her inner muscles give a little, gripping and releasing.
“More, Connor, please.”
I grounded my teeth together and stopped trying to be slow, to take it easy. I pulled back and speared forward in a harsh thrust. My name tore from her, and I knew I’d remember the sound of it forever. She moaned beneath me, her nails digging into my back and dragging down.
“Yes. Again,” I ordered, needing more. Knowing what I wanted, Amara didn’t go lightly and dug her nails in deeper. I was lost. Over and over, I drove into her, faster and harder, rocking my hips, grinding against her so that I hit her clit. My orgasm was building, and I gritted my teeth to hold off, watching the way her face contorted with pleasure. She was almost there… almost.
“Give it to me, Amara. Come for me.”
And just like the good girl she was… she came. Her scream of pleasure and release filled my ears as I thrusted harder, feeling her gripping me with her velvet sheath, milking me. I came hard, my balls drawing up, my spine tingling and chest tightening. Amara’s legs were locked around my hips, her inner muscles rippling around my shaft as I emptied myself into the condom, my heart pounding hard and my ears ringing.
“Fuck,” I whispered breathlessly, dropping my head to her chest. Amara was panting, her heart pounding hard in her chest. Her fingers tangled themselves in my hair as we struggled to bring our breathing under control. I lazily drew one of her nipples into my mouth and she clenched around my cock again. We moaned simultaneously, and I gently released it, raising my head to look at her.
Her cheeks were flushed with pleasure, violet eyes dark and sated. She still looked bashful, but she wasn’t trying to hide her face anymore.
“I want you, Amara,” I confessed.
She grinned, dimples poking out. “You just had me.”
I smiled back softly and shook my head. “No… I want more. I want a relationship with you, I don’t want to pretend anymore. I meant every word of my song. The night we first kissed, I decided I didn’t want to fake things with you. I wanted you for myself, for real,” I began, watching her eyes widen and her gaze skitter away for a moment.
“You don’t know what you’re saying. It’s just the sex talking,” she told me as she inched away from me. I took her hands and shackled them together and pressed them into my stomach, watching her seriously.
“I know what I want… and it’s you. I’m not asking you to promise to be with me forever… which is odd, since we’re technically married. I know you feel something for me, and maybe you’re scared. I’m not saying we’ll last forever… but I want to try. You’re worth the risk to me, Amara. Try with me?”
Her dark eyes searched my face, a small frown furrowing her brow.
“You’re serious?”
“One hundred percent.”
More silence as she thought about this, and she studied me.
“I want you, Amara. I want to make this real, to make this work. What do you say? Will you be my wife and date me?”
Amara’s lips tilted up in humor, but she soon gnawed on her lower lip, indecision warring inside her. I gently eased her lip from between her teeth and watched her eyes focus on me again before she slowly smiled, looking bashful again.
“I want you too, Connor,” she admitted.
Grinning, I leaned down to kiss her but paused. “So… we’re going to try? We’re really going to be a couple?” I asked, determined to be on the same page.
“I want to try. You make me feel brave.”
My heart clenched at that little confession, and I closed the gap between us, kissing her deeply and sealing our agreement.
Amara was mine… now I just had to make sure she completely understood what that meant.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AMARA
I had made a huge mistake.
I stood by the edge of the bed, wearing Connor’s shirt from last night, gnawing on my thumb nail as I looked down at the disarray of sheets. It wasn’t the messy bed that held my attention, rather the naked man in it.
Connor was beautiful on a normal day. Whether he dressed up for a wedding, for a crowd when he was on stage, or casually at home, he was utterly breathtaking. But like this? Naked, vulnerable, sleeping… The man was sinfully gorgeous. He was sleeping on his back, one leg cocked to the side, the sheet barely covering his manly bits. I trailed my gaze up his ridiculously carved abdomen, following that light dusting of hair up to his impressive chest. My eyes traced every swirl and shape of his tattoos, following the ink to his broad shoulders and down those delectable biceps. His face was now scruffy with three-day old facial hair, and I felt my face warm when I remembered how it felt scraping erotically along the inside of my thighs, against my chest and neck. I was pretty sure I had beard burn in a few places, but I hadn’t been able to take my eyes away from him long enough to look. Those full lips were slightly parted in sleep, and one of his arms was thrown up over his eyes as if to help ward off the sunlight gently streaming in through the window.
I slept with Connor Arthur.
No, more than that… I’d agreed to date Connor Arthur. What the hell was I thinking? He said he was actually interested in pursuing a relationship with me. I admit, when he asked, I was on a post-sex high unlike any other. And throughout the night, he’d been sure to keep that high going… twice more, in fact.
Now that it was a new day and he wasn’t touching me, I took a moment to consider what he got out of making our relationship legit, and all I could think of was that I was a convenient body for him to use when he needed to get off. I mean, we’d both agreed not to see other people while we were married in order to properly sell the ruse. The press would have a field-day if they caught wind of either of us with other people, and his family would be hurt and disappointed. So, I had to imagine that the main reason he was wanting to make this more legit was because he didn’t want to spend the next several months celibate.
That made more sense to me than him being actually interested in me. I hated the sharp stab of disappointment and hurt that thought caused, but it was true. If he hadn’t needed to sell his lie that day, he never would have looked twice at me. Sure, we got along well, and I thought we had serious potential to be good friends, but a man like Connor didn’t look at a woman like me and think he’d found the one he wanted to grow old with, it just didn’t happen. He was still rising up the ladder of his career. He was famous, yes, but he hadn’t hit the big-time yet, and when he did, the entire world would be open and at his feet. He could have anyone, several someone’s… but he’d be tied down with me. I couldn’t do that to him, and I wouldn’t do it to myself.
But then… How did I explain the song?
I frowned and dropped my hand, huffing silently. I wanted to say that the song and him asking to be in a real relationship was fake and just a way for him to have sex while we were married, that it was all part of the act, but I wasn’t going to lie to myself. Connor wasn’t that cruel. As easy as it would be to say he was playing me, I just didn’t feel like that was the way he did things. I was good at reading the people in front of me, and I had made sure from the get-go that Connor knew I wasn’t someone to be bought off. I’d seen his vulnerable side, I’d heard his guilt and shame, and I knew he was kicking himself for letting this situation get out of hand. Hell, I had a good amount of blame too… I was the one wearing that stupid ring that day we’d moved my belongings. If I hadn’t been, the press would have thought I was just the flavor of the month. I could have disappeared, and he could have lied to his parents and said we broke up, end of story.
That song… I shook my head. It had been so damn sweet, and the way he sang it, the way he’d held my gaze, that deep, rasping timbre of his voice and the sheer emotion I could see on his face… Now I was confused.
I wanted to believe that Connor was sleeping with me—pretending to date me—because he wanted a warm body at night. That was cut and dry, and totally believable to me, but when I added in the night we first kissed, the fact that he’d introduced me to Toby Summer and pushed me to take a giant leap for my dreams, the very fact that he’d written me a song and wasn’t shy about showing me affection… could he actually have feelings for me?
No. It had to be guilt and obligation. Connor was a good guy at heart who sometimes made mistakes. He’d be hating himself that my life was now up for discussion from the masses, and that our lie had been spotlighted in a way that we’d had to go through with it. It was likely he was doing all of this because he was lying to himself. He didn’t want to keep lying to his parents, and he felt bad about me being dragged into it. The solution? Don’t lie anymore… make it real. That felt far more like the truth than anything else I’d come up with.
It was kind of him to do, and it made my heart hurt that he thought he had to go to such lengths, but it was totally unnecessary. I couldn’t let him try to make this real out of obligation or a sense of honor.
“It’s too early for you to be thinking that hard.”
I startled and glanced back at Connor, finding his dark eyes locked onto my face, a tiny tilt to his lips.
“G-good morning,” I stammered, smiling far too brightly. He cocked an eyebrow, that smirk widening as he looked at me.
“It would be… if you were still in bed. Why are you up? And why are you thinking so hard?”
“I just came back from the bathroom… and I wasn’t thinking about anything,” I lied. Connor’s gaze flickered, and for a moment I wondered what had changed. Then, before I knew what he was doing, he rolled to my side of the bed, hooked me around my waist and hauled me into bed. I gave a pathetic shriek as he tucked me under him, tangling us in the sheets. I laughed in surprise as he pulled the sheets up over our heads so that we were cocooned in our own little bubble and smiled down at me, his dark eyes searching my face.
“What is on your mind, wife?”
I winced. “Don’t call me that.”
“Girlfriend?”
I scrunched up my face. “That feels too juvenile.”
“Partner?”
“We’re not running a business together.”
“I don’t care what you label us… as long as I get to call you mine,” he rasped.
Damn, that was a really good answer. My stomach fluttered, but my heart twisted. He was doing this because he thought he was doing the right thing—none of it was real. At the moment, he could pretend we were on our honeymoon for real and enjoy our time, but soon, we’d be back on a plane to reality, and our little bubble would pop. He’d still have to face his parents knowing he’d lied, even if we were trying to make it into the truth now. He’d know that he couldn’t date anyone else because he’d married me, and eventually he’d likely grow to resent me for stopping him from having the life he should have had.
My heart turned over as he slowly leaned in, and I closed my eyes, giving myself up to his kiss… letting myself have this for a few more moments. It was soft, gentle, exploratory.
“So,” he began as he pulled away. “What put that very serious look in your face so early in the morning. Don’t tell me you are having second thoughts?”
