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With eyes closed, I slip my hand into her panties, fingers gliding through a soft tuft of hair before reaching her clit. Cradling it, I rub in small circles, and Dana releases a gasp that reverberates through my rock-hard cock. She clings to me, her nails suddenly digging into my arm. I don’t dare stop. Not when I’m so close to hearing what I’ve longed to hear for so long:
Dana Kirby coming for me, my name on her lips.
Passion strangles the guilt in me. I slide a finger inside of her. Her body arches against me in a quiet, gasping fit before she settles again, only her hips moving to grind against my thrusting hand. The rest of her lies still, limp and warm. A virginal blank slate for me to mold and shape as my own.
What am I doing?
I can’t?—
“Connor,” she whispers, her voice husky and sweet.
Fuck. She sounds too good.
I can’t…
But I will.
I kiss her, tasting the little moans that fall off her tongue as I work her to the brink with my fingers. Every move pulls us closer together until I’m not sure where either of us begins or ends. My thoughts dissolve, my only drive to bring her crashing down — as silently as possible.
Each gasp and whimper is like a bullhorn in my ears, but I don’t rush. I take my time, wanting so badly to kiss every inch I touch, fighting the urge to throw her legs over my shoulders and?—
“Connor.”
“Shh,” I warn with a whisper, her pussy clenching around my fingers. “Don’t fight it.”
I slide my fingers out and around her throbbing clit. She gasps, her lips still layered with mine. Her hips buck. I hold her down, refusing to stop, and she lets me. I bet she’d let me do anything I wanted to her right now. I’m Connor Morgan, after all. The Halftime Heartbreaker.
But she’s Dana Kirby.
And I’m going to enjoy this.
Dana clenches one more time, her entire body stiffening at its breaking point. She breaks our kiss, slapping a hand over her mouth. I watch the orgasm course through her, a crushing wave of trembles that rock her from head-to-toe. I slowly inch a finger back inside so I can feel it, her wetness dripping down my knuckles with each thrust, until she finally pushes my hand away with a giggle.
She exhales hard and closes her eyes. I leave little kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, enjoying the soft, pleasant noises she makes.
After a few minutes, she opens her smiling eyes.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey,” she says, her voice somehow deeper than before. Tired, but dripping with sex.
Now what?
Dana answers my thoughts with another kiss, her grip pulling me even closer. I shift over her, fitting so perfectly between her legs. Before I know what I’m doing, I reach for my zipper. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t stop me. Fuck, I should stop myself, but the relief of shedding my jeans, even just a little, is too good. I kiss her again, impossibly deeper, her thighs cradling my body as I guide my?—
A door opens in the hallway. Feet shuffle across the carpet.
We freeze. With eyes open wide, we listen. The steps are hard. Heavy.
Her father.
Oh, shit.
Forget her brothers. John Kirby is going to kill me if he sees this.
Dana brings a finger to her lips, signaling me to be quiet — as if I’d make a fucking peep. The steps continue down the stairs, silently fading onto the first floor. Too nervous to move, we remain frozen. Her with her legs spread wide and me with my hand on my cock, ready to thrust it inside of her and claim her the way she was meant to be claimed.
After a moment, she pushes against my chest. I slide off, putting my dick away while she stumbles off the bed. Silently, she closes the door and fastens the lock. It wouldn’t stop John Kirby from plowing inside, but at least I’ll have about seven extra seconds to leap out the window. I’ll take my chances.
