“Untie my hands,” I pant. “I can take care of myself.”
With a gentle tug, the knot unravels. My arms burn as circulation rushes back, but I ignore the pain, instead giving my man what he wants.
Everything.
With his hands free he moves the swing faster, and I work both hands over my sex. Three fingers of one hand plunge in and out, and I pinch my clit between the thumb and forefinger of the other hand.
He bucks me hard and fast until his release roars through him. His hot seed fills my back passage and I jerk, shocked by a total body orgasm ripping through my system. My vision wavers and every muscle in my body goes limp.
When I come to, we’re in his office, both still naked, although he looks fresh from the shower and I can smell toothpaste and soap. I’m sprawled out on the bearskin rug and Connor is cleaning me up with slow, sensual strokes from a wet washcloth. I smile as I feel the washcloth between my legs, content to let him care for my in the aftermath. But still… “You okay?”
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s my line.”
I grip his arms to stop him from distracting me with the sensual sponge bath. “What’s wrong, Connor? Wasn’t it what you wanted?”
He leans in closer. “You’re what I want. What I need, what I crave every second of every day.”
“I know exactly what that’s like,” I say, running my hands through his hair.” That’s how I feel about you.”
“But I’m still broken,” he whispers, tugging on my heartstrings. “I shouldn’t need to do those things to you.”
“You’re not broken, love.” I kiss the side of his jaw and pull him down so his head rests against my breasts. “That may have been how it looked to me before. It may even have been how it felt. But there’s a method to your madness, a reason you operate the way you do. It kept you sane and functioning, made you successful. You aren’t less for what you went through, you’re more because of it.”
“Do you really think so?” he asks.
“I know so.” Being with another man might be simpler than being with Connor, but I can’t even conceive of a future without him.
He squeezes me tightly. “I’m never going to let you go now. You’re mine.”
“Is that part of your fantasy?” I smile.
“It’s part of our reality. I’m so caught up in you that I don’t know where you end and I begin.”
I grin and bite my lip. His cock shoots hard against my thigh. “What have I told you about that?”
“That it makes you want to fuck my face?” I wiggle enticingly, pressing against him for all I’m worth. “Did I ever mention the fantasy I have about this bear skin rug?”
“Does it go like this?” He slides into me in one perfect thrust and I cling to his broad shoulders. I’m lost in the physical sensation. The heat that is building again.
“I love you, Baily Sinclair,” he whispers a moment before we go soaring together.
“Yes,” I whisper sometime later. “It goes exactly like that.”
The End
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