With each sweep of my tongue, I sank further into her, losing myself in her taste and texture, her need fueled mine until I thought we’d both go up in flames. When I retreated, she followed, licking into my mouth like she owned me.
Maybe she did.
Nothing compared to kissing Annabelle. I was ruined for any other woman.
Her hips rocked against my hand, demanding friction. A simple move of my fingers and I was beneath her panties—her thong. God, I wanted to see that beautiful arse...just not tonight. She’d regret it in the morning, and I’d hate myself for making her feel that way.
“Fuck, woman. You’re soaked for me, aren’t ye?” I slipped my fingers through her wet folds, already slick and slippery.
“Yes,” she admitted, pulling me back to her mouth.
I kissed her lightly, tasting each gasp and whimper as I ran my fingers from her opening to her clit. When I circled the swollen bud, she cried out and pushed harder against me.
“You’re so responsive. Do you know how good it’s going to be the first time I fuck you? The second time? Every time? God, Annabelle, you’re right there for me, aren’t ye?”
She moaned when I rubbed her clit. “Please, Connell. Please.”
“Aye, love. I have you.” I slid one finger inside her and nearly lost my fucking mind when her body gripped me tight.
“Yes!” She rocked again, riding that finger, and I slipped a second one in, stretching her taut flesh.
“That’s it. Take what you want,” I growled into her neck. I worked her clit with my thumb as I fucked her with my fingers, wishing it was my cock.
Her muscles locked around me and her breaths came closer and closer together. “More,” she demanded, and I brought my mouth to hers as I pressed her harder, worked my fingers deeper. “God. Yes. Yes, Connell!”
She screamed my name as she came on my hand, and I watched with wonder as her eyes flew wide, then fluttered shut. I stroked her as she convulsed around me again, her body riding out the aftershocks of her pleasure.
When she sagged against me, I made myself pull my hands from her. I sucked in one breath after another, willing my control back in place. Slipping those panties to the side so I could take her with my cock wasn’t an option. Not tonight.
Instead, I kissed her softly.
“Ye are so fucking perfect, Annabelle.”
Then I stepped back, thanked God that my keys were still in my pocket and retreated.
“Connell?” she asked, all soft and welcoming.
“I’m leaving, lass. I have to. If I don’t walk out that door right now, I’ll fuck you on that counter. That’s how far gone I am for ye.”
She blinked rapidly as her brow puckered. “Okay?”
“I know ye better than you think I do. You’ll regret it in the morning. So I’m leaving. I have a week left of my service, and you can follow all the damned rules ye like. Once that week is over, you’d better be ready, because I’ll be servicing ye.”
Her lips parted, and before she could say something that would fuck over all my good intentions, I walked out of her house.
Without my shirt.
My hands shook the entire drive home.
6
Annabelle
Saturday mornings were the only mornings I allowed myself to sleep past seven—a simple luxury I looked forward to each week.
I slipped my white cotton robe over my green silk shorts pajama set and poured myself a generous cup of coffee. The early morning sun shot golden rays through my kitchen window, illuminating the counters in a relaxing glow.
A warm shiver raced down my spine, the red-hot memory of Connell’s hands sliding up my skirts, his fingers coaxing my body to the edge of pleasure, his kiss pushing me over with sweet tendrils of ecstasy. I blew out a breath, heat pooling between my thighs at just the thought.
Then my heart swelled—he’d left. For me. Because he knew me. Knew I’d been ready to invite him into my bed and that I’d regret it. Because he still worked for me, and I wouldn’t dare be accused of taking advantage of him. And yet, he’d made me shatter for him with the mere use of his fingers. He truly held the power.
Taking a steadying breath, I settled at my kitchen table, today’s paper open and ready for devouring. Work far from my mind, my muscles relaxed as I sank into my routine. Normally, I’d dive straight into the local news section, but lord help me, I fanned through the pages right to the sports section. I sighed, shoulders sinking—the feature story centered around Reaper Cannon Price and how he’d cooled his bad-boy antics for over two weeks, a feat in the press’s opinion.
It’s not that I’d wanted the press to intrude on Connell’s life, but I couldn’t help my desire for…more.