Beautiful Mine

by Jordyn White

  Lips parted, panting slightly, my mouth is next to his jaw and his hot breath is underneath my ear. His arm tightens around my back, he moves his hips to the music and guides my body to move along with him, knees bending, bodies dipping. We wrap in even closer.

  As we dance and move, his head comes from one side of mine and switches to the other. Our lips pass within inches of each other. Still not looking at his eyes, I run my hand into his slightly-damp hair. His arms tighten around me and still we’re dancing.

  His mouth is near my cheek. I turn and brush my lips over his, then keep going like I didn’t mean to do it. Like it wasn’t the stolen kiss that it was.

  He snakes one hand into my hair and grips it gently as our mouths come close together. I glance up at him, see the heat in his eyes, and realize I’m luring him in deliberately now. Maybe I have been all along. Because every move of my body is drawing him closer... just like every move of his body is drawing me closer to him.

  “Sorry,” I whisper, pulling my mouth away slightly, because I should respect the fact that he doesn’t want to go there. But we don’t stop dancing. A moment later, my resolve weakens because he’s the one who steals a kiss, brushing his lips on mine and then away.

  Two more beats of our bodies blending together, then we press our mouths against one another and linger.

  We pull away. Take a breath. Resist for another beat.

  Then his mouth is on mine and I feel myself start to tip. I pull away slightly, glance up at him, then tuck my chin down.

  “Connor,” I breathe. “If we’re going to stop...”

  “I don’t care anymore,” he says thickly, putting his finger under my chin and tilting me up to meet him. “I’m already flying.”

  Then Connor Rivers kisses me like he means it. I’m done holding back too. I wrap my arms tighter around him and we open to each other. His tongue touches mine and I’m rising up to meet him. We kiss deeply, intently, eagerly. I give in to all of it.

  It might be a mistake, but I don’t care.

  Some mistakes are worth making.

  Chapter 18

  Whitney

  We dance for another half hour, settling into each other and—I think—making sure no one’s going to pull away this time. Neither one of us do. At last he asks if I want to go back to his place, and of course the answer is yes.

  We pull up to his house, a luxurious-looking, modestly-sized home with two levels, balconies, and a nicely-landscaped front yard. I’m as fascinated as I was when I saw Connor in a suit. Or realized how many employees he manages. I glance over at his handsome profile as he pulls into the garage. The Connor I know has a walking stick named Gandolf and lives on a boat. He’s not nailed to the ground living in an actual house.

  Maybe he can be more steady than I think. Maybe, when he makes his decision, staying at the resort will win out.

  I’m not going to worry about it though. Right now, it’s me and Connor and that’s everything I need.

  He takes my hand as he leads me through the mudroom, laundry room, and into the kitchen. It’s a clean, open space with professional-grade stove and appliances. He leads me to the other side of the bar and just into the living room. The dining area is to our left, one side surrounded by a bay of windows. The living room is all hard wood flooring, and decorated in a plush, classic style, with richly-patterned furniture, an abundance of gorgeous throw pillows, and beautiful vases and flowers. It doesn’t at all seem his style. There’s more to it—an office down the way, I think—but we stop not far from the staircase, which curves up gracefully to our right.

  He snakes one arm around my waist and pulls me snug against him. “I’ll give you the tour.” But we don’t move. “Kitchen, dining room, living room.” He gestures with his free arm, then brings that one around me too. I wrap my arms around his waist and look up at him, smiling. “Office and game room down the hall,” he says, looking into my eyes and smiling too.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He gives me a kiss. I press my lips against his, sinking into it. He breaks our kiss just for a moment, brings his hands to my cheeks, and kisses me again. We taste one another slowly, our temperatures rising.

  “Bedrooms upstairs,” he says, his lips still brushing mine.

  “I want to see those.”

  He kisses me again. As our kiss deepens, I feel the power of it swooping up into my chest. Our hands and bodies move to the rhythm of our own song now. It’s slow and intense and increasingly molten. He’s rock hard against my thigh. I’m ready for him too. We kick off our shoes before he leads me up the stairs.

  He takes me through the double doors leading to the master bedroom, and turns the lights on the elegant fixture above the king-sized bed in the center. The bed’s on an impressive frame, with an intricate, curving headboard. Again, not the style I would’ve imagined for him, but it’s a bed, so I don’t really care.

  He turns the dial down, dimming the lights, then returns his attention to me. My attention has turned to the buttons on his shirt. He undoes his cuffs as I loosen each button, one at a time.

  Once the shirt is hanging open, I rub my hands up his firm chest and over his shoulders, bringing the shirt fabric with them. He slowly shimmies his arms, his chest muscles flexing, and his shirt falls to the floor. He cups my face and kisses me again, releasing me once I start to fumble with his belt buckle.

  He reaches for my dress at the waist, raising the fabric of my skirt. I raise my arms as he lifts my dress and drops it onto the floor. I shake my hair off my shoulders then return to his belt, pulling it loose.

  As I work to undo his pants, he caresses my neck and shoulders and arms. Then he unclasps my bra, sliding it off. Eyes on one another, we finish up on our own. He removes his pants and I slide down my panties, which are wet at the crotch.

  My breath catches in my throat at the sight of his hard cock. Oh, this I remember. My core starts that pleasurable aching as I remember the feel of him inside me, and anticipate him entering me again.

  “Oh!” I suddenly remember something. “Please God, say you have a condom.”

  He grins and hooks his hand on the back of my neck, bringing me in to him. “I have a condom,” he whispers, then kisses me deeply, his warm tongue warring eagerly with mine. We break briefly as he backs up toward the bed, bringing me with him. I’m breathing hard.

  “More than one?”

  He laughs and grabs me suddenly. I squeal as he turns and tosses me on the bed. “You’re insatiable.”

  I grin. “Come here.”

  He slowly crawls onto the bed, like a panther, smiling, his eyes hungry. “I want to taste you first.”

  “Taste me later. I want you.” I sit up slightly to reach for his shoulders. I tug on him, indicating I want him to come all the way up to me. I want him to mount me. I want him inside me.

  He does come up—quickly—but he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.

  “Behave, you,” he says hotly, and my body tingles. I hold my breath. “I want to taste every inch of you.” He dips his mouth to my ear, still holding my wrists. He sucks on my earlobe and I exhale slowly. “I want to run my tongue all over your body.” He lightly traces his tongue down to the crook of my neck.

  He sucks on the sensitive skin, and slowly rubs both hands down the underside of my arms. I start to lower them, but he presses them back in place, indicating I’m not to move. I bring my thighs up the sides of his body, angling my hips to feel him but he’s holding himself too far above me.

  “I want to lick you until you come, lap up all your juices, then lick you till you come again.” I exhale sharply, shivering with anticipation. He grins at my reaction. Holding my eyes, he runs his fingers over my collar bone, then down my front. He stops just short of my nipple, teasing me.

  “And then?” I whisper, wanting him to cup me.

  “And then what?” he asks, still holding my eyes. He gently rolls my nipple between his fingers, then takes me in his hand and squeezes firmly.

&n
bsp; I close my eyes briefly and let out a soft moan. “Then what will you do?”

  “You mean,” he says slowly, lowering his head toward my chest, “will I pound you with my cock until your eyes roll back in your head?” He takes my breast into his hot mouth and sucks firmly.

  “Mm-hmmm.” I nod my head slowly, eyes closed, arms still above my head.

  “You’ll have to wait to find out.” He goes to the other side, slowly circles the nipple with his tongue, then sucks on that one too.

  “Yes,” I breathe, squirming underneath him.

  “Stay there like a good girl.” He plants kisses down my stomach and runs his hands down my sides.

  I nod obediently, my nipples aching from missing him already. My legs are spread and I’m throbbing, anticipating his touch. He kisses the top of my pubic bone. Then just above my seam. He opens his mouth and places the flat of his wet tongue in the same place, teasing me. My clit throbs. I firmly clasp my hands together above my head, my breath shallowing. I look down, watching him, willing him to move lower.

  He scoots himself down a bit at a time, kissing and tasting the inside of my upper thighs as he goes, sending ripples of trembling gooseflesh all over me. Finally, he grabs my hips with both hands, holding me in place and positioning his mouth right above my sweet spot.

  He exhales slowly. “Oh yeah,” he says softly, taking me in appreciatively. I’ve never had a guy make me feel so beautiful down there. But the way he looks at me, like he’s the one in for a treat, makes me feel safe and hot and completely under his control.

  His tongue touches me just at my entrance and he takes a long, soft swipe up toward my clit, tasting me slowly. Like he’s the puppet master with the string, I arch back long and slow to match his movement. His wet tongue slides over my firm bud and I exhale a shuddering breath. Then he lowers his tongue and does it again. “God.” I can’t stop myself from grabbing the back of his head and angling toward him.

  He gently sucks my clit into his mouth and teases the tip of it with his tongue. My body contracts with the shudder he just sent through me. “Fuck,” I say, eloquently.

  He rubs his hands up the back of my thighs and presses firmly just beneath the back of my knees, spreading me farther apart. He’s rubbing the flat of his tongue all over my clit: up and down, side to side. I groan when he goes side to side and he responds by doing it again.

  “Yes, yes.” I’m breathing hard and curling toward him. He starts to work me faster, and harder. I’m gasping helplessly. My toes point and he’s sending me closer and closer to the top.

  Oh my god.

  He pushes his entire mouth hard against me, pleasing me everywhere. I’m whimpering, so close. God, I’m so close. He swirls his tongue and and I come hard, crying out. He doesn’t slow or ease up, sending pleasure spiking over my entire body as I pulse against him. I’m thrashing helplessly, and he grabs my thighs eagerly, pulling me harder to him and coming at me with so much eagerness, I’d think he was the one coming.

  It goes on and on. I’m nearly out of my mind with it. It comes down in intense waves, and I can barely breathe. Finally it recedes enough that I can take in deep breaths and he eases off me slowly.

  “God,” I say. I’m so damned articulate.

  “Mmm-hmmm.” He’s a poet too. I love it.

  I expect him to come to me now, and want him to, but he doesn’t look done with me. Not at all. I remember what he said and look down at him, disbelieving. Is he really going to do that twice? Is that even possible?

  Minutes later, I have my answer. He starts slow, initially avoiding my bud, which is too sensitive to want direct contact at first. Instead he slowly caresses my folds with his tongue and gently massages my thighs and stomach and ass and breasts. It’s like stoking a fire. Slowly. Patiently. Soon I’m eager again. Wanting more.

  He touches my clit softly at first. Momentarily. It’s enough to throw my head back and make my legs open up more. Then he does it again. The heat spikes in my body, rising at his commands. It’s like he’s cast a delicious spell over my body, and I’m so enchanted by what he’s doing that words escape me.

  Eventually I’m moaning and rocking my hips. I’m gripping his forearms, hanging on. He grasps my forearms too, and that’s how we hold on to each other as he pulls another heart-pumping orgasm out of me.

  I’m making the kind of sounds that would make a porn star blush, but I can’t help it. It feels so fucking good.

  When it’s over and I’m panting heavily, he pulls up on his elbows and smiles at me. “How you doing up there?” he asks, amused.

  “Uuhhhh.” I’m just trying to breathe.

  “You still want more?”

  I grin.

  He chuckles and places a firm kiss on my inner thigh. I’m still trembling all over, just beneath the surface.

  “I’ll be right back.” He crawls backward off the bed. I catch sight of his cock, still raging hard, and maybe I am insatiable because I’m tingling pleasantly at the thought of it inside me.

  He disappears into the bathroom. I take a deep breath, blowing it out hard and resting my hands on my stomach. Good lord, this man.

  He comes back with the condom already on and climbs on top of my weakened—but ready—body. Oh this is what I wanted. Not that I would’ve given up the other, but it feels so good to have Connor on top of me. To have him in my arms. To be able to kiss him. As we kiss, deeper and more intently, he runs his hand up the back of my neck and into my scalp. He makes a fist, grabbing a handful of my hair and tugging firmly. Our mouths are locked in a hot kiss. He tugs again, harder this time, and I moan with pleasure.

  Still clutching my hair, he reaches down and takes hold of himself, searching. Yes. At last. I feel his broad tip and I scoot just enough so that between the two of us, we’re lined up. His wide shaft presses against my entrance. I relax my muscles, letting him in. He slides in so slowly, I feel every inch rubbing against my ridges, deliciously sensitive after my orgasms.

  He reaches bottom, and pauses. I’m stretched around him. He’s so big, the pleasure of being this full is touching the boundaries of pain.

  “You feel so good inside me,” I breathe. “I don’t want it to end.” God, I don’t want any of this to end.

  He cups my jaw and slowly withdraws, one inch at a time, my channel humming with his touch. He rests his forehead and against mine and holds my eye. My chest flushes hot and it spreads over me like warm honey.

  “You’re incredible,” he says, coming deep inside me again, slightly faster. He’s still holding my eyes. My heart skips a beat and my mouth drops slightly open when he hits bottom again. “So tight and wet.” His dirty talk sends a pulse of pleasure through me and I tighten around his cock even more. His eyes pinch shut, and I catch a glimpse of the ecstasy on his face before he dips down and sucks on the crook of my neck. At the same time he increases his rhythm more.

  Breathing hard, I roll my hips, working with his movements. He groans and I moan at the same time. He steadily increases his speed and I continue to rock myself with him.

  “I remember you like it hard,” he says breathlessly.

  I nod against his shoulder.

  He kisses me firmly then, but keeps with the same rhythm. When he breaks our kiss though, he grabs my shoulder and thrusts hard. A bloom of pleasure and pain flows over me and I gasp, throwing my head back. “Yes,” I bite out.

  He does it again, and again, and I am not being quiet about telling him how I feel about it. He goes faster and harder, so the pulses of pleasure are bursting over me with increasing rhythm. Those pulses get closer and closer together until they blend into one, steady, quivering mass of pleasure.

  Omigod.

  When my orgasm bursts over me, he’s half a second behind. He thrusts into me irregularly, moaning in my ear. I gasp as I tighten around his hard cock over and over.

  The fierce grip of my climax loosens, but he’s regained control and strokes me so deep and so perfectly the long downward slide of pleasure
flows over me. When it’s finally over, I’m a panting helpless mass beneath him.

  Fuck.

  I wish I could stash Connor in my suitcase and take him home with me.

  Chapter 19

  Connor

  Well, what can I say? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been “bad impulsive” and there’s no going back now. We’re both pretending we didn’t just blindly jump off a cliff together. I’m enjoying the fall enough to almost forget for real anyway.

  Whitney makes me feel like... I don’t know... like nothing I’ve ever felt before. The longer I’m with her, the more I feel myself sinking into her. In the back of my head, I think I might be in serious trouble because I’m already in deeper than I was in Spain.

  Deep enough, maybe, to change things.

  After spending the night trying to appease this woman’s sexual appetite (which, by the way, earns her a big gold star in my book), we go to the game together and I get to meet Nadim and his parents. The way Whitney followed the action and cheered him on, you’d think we were watching the World Series. When he hit a fly out of left field, helping his team score two points, she jumped up and down and cheered in the cutest damn way. I was cheering right along with her.

  Best Saturday morning I’ve had in a long time.

  There’s a food shack across the street from the field, so we walk over after the game to get Philly cheesesteaks. We’re sitting on the grass, under a Monterey Pine, talking about the game. Well, partly about the game. She’s mostly focusing on Nadim.

  “I can see why you like him so much,” I say. “That kid’s damn funny. He’s got personality coming out of his ears.”

  “Doesn’t he? I’m so glad you got to meet him.”

  “Me too.”

  She takes another bite of her sandwich and smiles at the near-empty field across the way. It makes me smile just watching her. She gets a glow on her face when she thinks about “her kids.” But there’s something else I wonder about.