Kiss the Sky (17 page)

But Connor pinches my chin and forces my gaze on him. Our
eyes connect on a different level. The world becomes small.

No Scott.

No shower.

No rush of water or nakedness.

Just me. Just him. Just us.

Together again.

Desire blankets and pulses and shrouds me in its heady web.
Wants and urges bubble, feelings that have been caged since we moved to the townhouse.
It all springs to life, and I see the longing swim in his deep blues.

We haven’t gotten off in a while. I haven’t masturbated in
our bed, fearful of the noises catching on microphones outside the walls. And
Connor used to masturbate in our shower, which has become complicated with the
communal style here.

We’re both horny as hell.
Especially
after arousing each other downstairs.

And then his thumb brushes my jaw, my lower lip, and slides
into my mouth.

An audible noise of consent, of yearning and delight
escapes.

It’s a moan that I am not so quick to catch this time.

[ 15 ]

CONNOR COBALT

She closes her lips around my thumb. Her pleasure
flushes her cheeks and causes her to shift towards me, my cock throbbing for
her tightness, for the place that she’s let no man into.

I want to remind Rose that
I’m
the one who causes her body to tremble—not the fucking moron
one shower over. Her anger towards Scott only fuels him and lets him believe he
has power over her. Biting comments, insults, that love-hate relationship is
our
dynamic.

He can’t have it.
 

But as soon as she makes a noise, he shuts off his shower. I
watch him wrap a towel around his waist, and he glances at me once with cold,
pissed eyes before he shoves through the door. I’m not uncomfortable by the
situation, but hearing my girlfriend moan from
my
touch must have been his limit.

My free hand slides to the back of Rose’s neck, holding her
very close to me. I lower my head and whisper, “I’m going to put something else
in your mouth, Rose.”

Her eyes meet mine with questions. I say only one thing with
my gaze.

You’re safe with me.

She can leave. She has full capability to knock me back in
the chest and chastise me about commanding her to drop to her knees. Rose is
not shy. She is not weak or insecure. If she doesn’t want something, she’ll let
me know.

She’s a virgin
, I
remind myself. Giving her what she craves, what she’ll love but denies—it’s
going to take time, no matter how much my body protests the long wait. But if
she can accept this, to begin to submit in bed, then we can finally move
forward.

As she processes my words, her body responds by curving
towards mine. She wants to let go for once. I know this. She knows this. She
just has to decide if she’s going to allow herself that pleasure or refuse it
on some higher, ridiculous moral ground.

Her fingers skim my wrist, and I remove my thumb from her
mouth. Quite slowly and effortlessly, she sinks onto her knees, eyelevel with
my dick. I want to drive it into her mouth, to fuck her the way I want to fuck
her pussy.
She’s a virgin
.

Patience, Connor.

I grab a fist-full of her wet hair, the shower pelting her
beautiful body in waves. Her breath deepens as she looks from me to my
partially hardened cock. I rest a hand on the tiled wall.

Rose seizes my shaft with light, tender hands, so unsure of
how to hold it.

“Put it in your mouth,” I urge with a deep, possessive
voice.

She gives me a sharp look, one that’s ten times harder than
her grip. My whole body reacts to her gaze, thrumming in pure fucking want. I
enjoy how difficult she is. I stare down at her, watching as she opens her mouth
wide enough to put me between her lips.

I’m not even halfway in before she stops. Her hands fall to
her thighs, so uncertain again.

She tries to withdraw, and I immediately clench her hair.
Her gaze is all fire, all tumultuous and hot. But it’s not a look that says
stop.
It’s one full of passionate, ugly,
beautiful words and curses.
Fuck
mes
mixed with
assholes
and
cocksuckers
and
hell fucking yeses.

She’s complicated. Just the way I like.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, darling,” I say bluntly. I
grip her hair harder, and her hands shoot out to my wrist.

A moan garbles in her throat, my cock only barely inside her
mouth. She meant to threaten me, and the surprise coats her eyes at the sudden
revelation. That she’s more turned on than anything.
 

I ease out of Rose, my cock popping from her lips. I keep
one hand on the tiled wall but the other falls from her hair to her neck.

“I’m doing this wrong,” she says. “I knew I would be awful.”

“You haven’t done anything yet,” I tell her with a smile.
“You can’t be awful at nothing.”

“Don’t baby me,” she snaps. “If you’re going to teach me, I
want you to do it right. I want to be the best.” She waves me on, her eyes
pinned below my waist with challenge and more delight.

If that doesn’t get me hard…
fuck.
I grow, and her eyes begin to widen, probably wondering how
she’s going to fit it into her mouth now.

“You will be the best, darling,” I say. “Hold onto it.” I
want to start this way for her. And then I want to do it
my
way.

She grips the base in that same delicate manner.

“That’s strange,” I say.

“What?” She frowns.

“You threaten to castrate men ten times a day but yet you
hold my cock like you want to tuck it into bed.”

Her grip immediately tightens, and my lips part from the
sudden sensation. I laugh into my next words. “You’re an excellent pupil so
far.”

“I graduated with highest honors,” she says.
Yes, I know.
I attended her graduation.
I saw her walk across the stage and accept her diploma. I was able to witness
the look of accomplishment and freedom from four years of hard work and
educational slavery. Those memories I hold close.

“You’re a conceited little honor graduate.”

“Little?” She raises her eyes.

“You are shorter than me,” I remind her. “It’s time for you
to shut the fuck up and put my cock back in your mouth.”

Her eyes grow hot at my words, but the rest of her body
reacts differently. She presses her thighs together. Wanting. Ready.

To make me come.

She takes me inside her mouth again, slowly, not yet halfway
before she nearly chokes. With one hand on her head, I readjust Rose and shift
my hips so the position is more comfortable for her. This angle works better,
and she shuts her eyes while she eases me in a little further. She’s not
horrible, but she’s not fantastic either.

She stares off, hesitating.

She’s drowning in her beautiful fucking mind. I don’t want
her to think about whether she’s doing something wrong or right. I just want
her to feel.

“Take your hands off.”

She glares and tries to pull back to yell. I know she wants
to try—to prove to me that she can do it, but that’s not what needs to happen.
I hold the back of her head tightly, keeping her here.

“You want to please me? Then do as I say.”

Her eyes narrow, but she releases me. And I use one hand and
my hips to guide myself further into her mouth.
Fuck.
That feels good.

She gags once, and her hands fly to my ass, gripping me
hard.

“Rose,” I groan. My strokes are shallow and then they become
deeper…deeper until tears seep from the corners of her eyes, her body shaking.

Her legs slowly give out, and her back rests against the
warm tiles, the water showering our bodies. I drive into her, my pelvis
rocking, having complete control on how much of me she takes between her lips.

Her legs squirm, her toes curling and her chest lifting as I
quicken my pace.

“That’s it, darling,” I say with a tight breath. “You’re
safe with me.”

After a few minutes, I come and slide out of her quickly.

“Spit,” I tell her, sitting on my knees.

She turns her head and does as I say. She wipes her lips,
her breathing heavy. I collect her in my arms, holding her while she digests
what happened.

Her own arms wrap around my neck, and she presses her forehead
to my collar.

I rub her back, the water slowly turning lukewarm. As she
rests on my lap, something strong grips my heart. I’ve never been so possessed
by another person before. She consumes my body and mind in ways that I can’t
articulate.

I comb her wet hair away from her face.

Right now, I want to kiss the place between her legs more
than she can possibly understand. I want to taste her and watch her back arch.
To see her reach a peak like I just did. After a couple minutes, I begin to
readjust her, spreading her legs on either side of me.

She puts a hand to my chest almost as soon as her ass hits
the tiles. “No,” she says, disentangling from me. She stands.

I stay on my knees and frown at her change of heart. I’m
confused—and that doesn’t happen often. “You can’t deny what your body responds
to. You liked it, and that’s all right, Rose.”

“I know.” She nods with more assurance. “I just don’t need
you to give me anything in return. That was for you.”

“I want to make you come.”
And I’m going to fucking do it.
I hold her ankle and kiss her knee.
“You’ll love it. Trust me.”

“I don’t care.” She pries my hand off her leg.

I stand up now, my gaze harsh on hers. “
I
fucking care.”

“This wasn’t quid pro quo. I wasn’t going to blow you so you
could get me off.”

She’s jumped on a new page of our book, and she’s left me to
find which one that is. “You’re aroused,” I tell her. “Lie to me and tell me
you aren’t going to go back to our room and touch yourself.”

She raises her chin, not backing down.

I could shove her against the wall, watch the breath leave
her lips, watch her body respond in vicious hunger. She’d let me please her.
But I don’t want to push her to that place without understanding her sudden
reservations.

She takes one step towards me and says, “I don’t need you to
make me come.” Fear swims to the surface of her piercing eyes.

And it clicks. Just like that. I see the ocean beneath her
words, the deeper meaning to everything. I bring her into my arms. I don’t care
that her limbs are stiff.

She tries to push me away, and I hold her to my chest in a
tight hug. My lips skim her ear as I say forcefully, “
Vous
avez
tort.”
You’re
wrong.

Her body flushes, and I abruptly release her, shut off the
water, and find a towel nearby. I wrap her in the soft cotton while she stares
at me, questioningly, wondering if I’m going to elaborate.

She finally says, “I’m not wrong.”

“You think your virginity is a prize that I want to win and
run away with. Am I right?”

“Don’t manipulate me.” She shakes her head. “I don’t need
you to tell me what I want to hear just so you can win that much easier.”

She’s crazy to believe such a horrible fucking thing. I want
to hold her longer, tighter, to calm her with my words. “I’m not manipulating
you, Rose. You’re smart enough to understand me. And if you truly believe I’d
manipulate a woman just to fuck her, then you don’t know me very well.”

“Don’t
lie
to me.”
She points to her chest, her eyes wild. “I’m a pit stop to you. I’m the halfway
mark until you find a woman who will kneel in and out of the bedroom.”

“If I wanted a wallflower out of the fucking bedroom, then
I’d never even talk to you, Rose.” What gets me off is the way a strong woman
can give herself to me the moment she passes through a door, the minute I can
overpower a girl during a fit of passion. And then we can go back matching each
other once again. Why would I want someone who can’t keep up with me? What
enjoyment is there in that?

She shakes her head, not believing me. Why can’t she
fucking
believe me? It’s the goddamn
truth!

“You need someone who will be by your side
twenty-four-seven,” she says. “Who has no greater obligations that will divide
her attention from yours. I have been a ten-year-long chase for you, Richard.
Nothing more.”

 
I try not to expose
my hurt, but it literally tears at my face, too livid to conceal. She’s driven
something hard and cold inside of me. “No,” I force. “No, Rose. You’re so
fucking wrong.”

She breathes heavily, clutching the towel with a firm grip.

I near her, cupping her face with large rough hands. I stare
down into her yellow-green eyes. “You’re not a pit stop. You’re my
finish line
. There’s no one after you.”
I kiss her powerfully, my tongue parting her lips, and she responds. But not as
much as I hoped. So I break apart and add, “I want you for eternity, not for a
brief moment in time.”

I don’t understand why every time I speak it sounds like an
empty pickup line.

I can’t lose her.

Not because of
this
.

I try to imagine a life without Rose and I see something
gray, something motionless—a world without time and a place without color. I
see mundane and dreary and lackluster.

I can’t lose her.

Not for anything.

She places a kiss on my cheek. “I want to believe you, and
I’m going to trust you, but just as a forewarning, it may take more than words
in the future.” With this, she opens the shower door and she leaves me with a
new challenge. But I’d be with her without all the tests—all the hoops she
makes me jump. I do enjoy them.

But I enjoy her more.

[ 16 ]