I understand now. Why he told me no when we were kids. Why he refused to take it when I offered him my virginity. It wasn’t because he didn’t want me. Didn’t love me. It was because he did.

Too much.

He needed me too much to take the risk of things changing between us. Loved me too much to take the chance. He knew I’d never let him in. That I’d always hold him at arms’ length and that loving me would eventually ruin him.

I can see that now.

He thinks I’m lying to him. I can see it on his face, and I open my mouth to tell him the truth. That I wish things were different. That I’d had the guts to stand up to my mother, all those years ago. To let him in. Let him love me.

But then his arms are around me. His hands in my hair. His mouth on mine, and I’m lost.

We both are.

I feel his hands fall to the hem of my sweater and I lift my arms, our mouths parting only long enough for him to pull it up, over my head, before they find each other again, our tongues tangling together, hot and frantic.

He turns me, the back of my knees hitting the edge of the bed. Tearing his mouth away from mine, Conner lowers me, sitting me down so he can kneel in front of me. I watch him, my gaze centered on his dark head, bent over as he lifts one foot and the other, to unlace my boots.

“This isn’t why I’m here,” I say to the top of his head and his shoulders stiffen under my hands. “I mean, I don’t want you to think…” Think what? That I’m using him for sex? That it’s all he’s good for. The only reason I’m here. All I want from him. “Conner, we don’t have to do this.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls off my boots and sets them aside before raising his head.

Lifting himself onto his knees, he brings us face-to-face again. “Did you mean it?” His gaze holds mine, so close and so impossible tender I can barely breathe. “Do you love me?”

I nod my head. “Yes,” I whisper, ignoring the way my heart flutters in my chest when he smiles at my answer. The impossible things it makes me want to do.

“Then the rest of it doesn’t matter.” He leans into me, softly brushing his mouth against mine. “Not right now.” His fingers skim up the length of my spine. “Right now, I just want to be with you.” Finding the clasp to my bra, he unhooks it, drawing its straps down my arms before dropping it at my feet.

It’s not a question but I nod again anyway. “Yes.” It’s what I want too. No matter what it means. What it looks like. How long it lasts.

Laying me back on the bed, he leans over me to run his tongue along the swell of my breast. Grazes my nipple with his teeth. “My parents room is right down the hall.” He circled my nipple with the tip of his tongue. “And you didn’t lock the door,” he says before drawing it into his mouth, sucking and nipping while his hands work the front of my jeans open. Lifting his head, he gives me the same crooked grin he used to give me when we were kids. “Do you think you can be quiet this time?”

It makes me think about the library. The way he fingers fucked me between the stacks. The way he had to cover my mouth with his hand to keep me from screaming while he made me come. “Probably not,” I say, lifting my hips off the bed so he can jerk my pants down my legs. “But I’m willing to give it another shot if you are.”

He laughs as he touches me between my legs, skimming his fingertips up the center of me, soft, feathery strokes over my panties, designed to test my resolve. “Know what I think?” he says, pushing against me through lace and silk, his gaze darkening when he feels how ready I am. How wet he makes me. “I think this might be why my mom never allowed me to have girls in my room.”

I swallow a gasp as his fingers push past the edge of my panties, their tips brushing against the slick, swollen folds of my pussy. “Conner…” I lift my hips again, moving against the pressure of his fingers teasing my entrance.

“Say it again.”

I open my eyes to find his face inches from mine, his gaze searching my face.

I lift my hand to cup his jaw, my fingers tracing the line of this brow. “I love you.” I whisper it, my eyes wide open so I can see his face when I say it. “I’ve always loved you.”

He lowers his lips to mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. His fingers slide into me, slow and deep, his thumb circling and pressing against my clit, his tongue and fingers stroking me in tandem until the moan trembling in my throat breaks free, getting lost in his mouth.

My hand falls to his shoulder, fingers gripping his shirt, trying to pull him closer. Deeper. The other one pushes between us to wrap around the hard length of his cock, stroking him through his jeans.

Breaking his mouth away from mine with a low groan, he levers himself up and away from me.

He stands, snagging the back of his shirt to pull it up and over his head. Watching him work his belt loose, my mouth goes dry at the sight of him. How beautiful he is. Smooth, flawless skin stretched over hard muscle. The tattoos only I know the meaning of because they’re mine.

Conner is mine.

Sitting up, I move his hands away to push the button of his jeans from its loop before tugging the zipper down to make room for my hands. Slipping them past the waistband of his pants and boxers, I push them down, so he can step out of them completely.

I don’t hesitate this time. This time I wrap my hand around the base of his shaft, holding it steady so I can take him into my mouth. Relaxing my jaw, I drag my tongue over the engorged head of his cock, pulling him in as deep as I can.

“Henley…” He says my name softly, his voice thick and tight. “Jesus.” He makes a sound, low in the back of his throat, drawing my gaze to his face. He’s looking down at me, mouth parted, chest moving rapidly with each shallow breath. Gaze locked on his, I start to move, licking and sucking his cock, the salty taste of his pre-cum filling my mouth, spurring me on. Making me hungry for more.

Watching me, he reaches down to find my free hand. Taking it in his, he guides it up the inside of my thigh, pressing my fingers to my throbbing pussy. Pushing my fingers past my slick, swollen folds to tease my entrance. Showing me what he wants.

Again, I don’t hesitate. I look up at him as I stroke my fingers into my eager pussy, moaning softy around his cock while I work it against the back of my throat. Licking and sucking. Working and pumping the parts of him I can’t fit in my mouth in my fist. Grinding the heel of my hand against the top of my mound. Pumping my fingers in and out of my wet slit. Setting a hungry rhythm neither of us can take for long.

He’s still looking at me, gaze dull. Jaw clenched tight. Chest heaving. Hands in my hair, finger tight against my scalp, holding my head steady while he fucks my mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of my throat with each shallow thrust.

“Shit.” He barely breathes it, the hands in my hair untangling themselves to push me back onto the bed again. “I want to fuck you.” Skimming down my sides, his fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, yanking them down my legs with a rough jerk. Settling himself between my thighs, he raises himself on his hands to hover over me. “I want to come all over you.” I feel the blunt head of his cock pushing against me and I whimper in anticipation, raising my hips off the bed to take him inside. He responds by pressing the wide palm of his hand against my belly, pushing me down and I moan softly in frustration. “I want to come inside you.” He rubs himself against my swollen clit. Slides between my juice-slicked folds, coating himself in my arousal. Teasing me until I feel like I’m on fire. Until I’m so frenzied, so out-of-control, that I’m reaching between us to grip his cock. Put it where I want it.

Catching me by the wrist before I can make contact, he gives me that cocky, knowing grin of his. “Nope…” he whispers. “That’s my job.”

Gaze locked on mine, he lifts my hand to his mouth, slips my fingers past him lips, sucking them clean of my juices. I know the moment my taste hits his tongue. Watch his eyes darken and dull. Feel the involuntary thrust of his hips against mine. The heavy jerk of his rock-hard cock between my thighs, the head of it twitching against my hungry entrance.

Breathless, I watch him pull my fingers from his mouth before raising my hand above my head to hold it in place.

My free hand is resting on my belly and it starts to creep downward, the back of my fingers brushing against the head of his cock like it’s taken on a life of its own. “Henley.” It comes out on a low growl, his jaw tight, clenched against a groan. “Don’t.”

Ignoring his warning, I turn my hand over and reach further to trail my fingers over the hot, throbbing vein that runs the length of his shaft, following it from base to tip. I tease his weeping slit. Trace my fingertips along the head of his cock, following the curve of its rim before lifting my fingers to my open mouth. Licking their tips, I taste him the way he tasted me.

He doesn’t say anything else, just watches me. Eyes dark. Shoulders tense. Jaw tight.

Waiting.

Somehow, I know what he wants and I give it to him. Pulling my fingers from my mouth, I raise my free hand above my head, offering it to him. He stacks my hands, clamping his fingers tight around my wrists.

Holding me down.

Keeping me with him.

I want him to. Need him to take away the choice, so it’s not mine to make. I want him to make it impossible for me to leave.

I need him to make me stay.

Because as long as I’m here, as long as I’m with him, I’m free.

“Shhh…” he says softly, stroking into me so slow and deep I have to push back against the moan building in my throat, the size and feel of him inside me nearly enough to knock it loose.

“This is how it should’ve been.” Braced on his elbow, mouth hovering above mine, his dips his head to trace his tongue along my upper lip, licking at the freckle that straddles my lip line, near the corner of my mouth. “Exactly like this…” He lifts his head, so he can watch me, his hips moving against mine, each stroke of him inside me so excruciatingly tender, so perfectly right, I feel tears prickling behind my eyelids, hot and salty.

Rearing up as far as I can, I lift my head to press my mouth to his chest, the wild thump of his heart beating against my lips.

My heart.

“I love you, Conner,” I say it softly, lifting my chin to find his mouth with mine, wrists straining against the hold he has on me. “I always have.” The last of it come out on a shuddering sigh when I feel his hand wrap around my hip, tilting my pelvis, angling me against him so he can fuck me deeper, each thrust stretching me. Filling me. Hitting me just right. The calloused pad of his thumb circling and teasing my hot, juice-slicked clit, over and over, until I feel it. The tightening in my belly. The slow spread of heat up the length of my spine.

“Stay with me.”

It’s the last thing he says to me before his mouth covers mine, swallowing the sounds of my orgasm, giving me the sounds of his own.

Stay with me.