Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

K irsty’s thoughts were a jumble. Their hasty walk from the beach to Connor’s flat felt too long, every cobblestone marking a step closer to…

You know what.

The turn of the day had Cairnhaven’s streets catching blue twilight, throwing shadows and sharp contrasts like some old film set. Gripping the strap of her handbag, all she felt was buzzing anticipation and adrenaline. Her sex was still singing hallelujah from being so skilfully worshipped by his fingers. If that was his way of grovelling, he could keep going for a bit.

But that moment on the beach had changed something.

Forgiving him wasn’t a rational choice. It was being caught in a riptide, pulling her towards understanding, towards him. It was inevitable. Natural.

Why now?

Maybe it was because she saw in Connor a mirror of her own seeking, her own flaws. In a shadowy corner of her heart, Kirsty remembered a treacherous sense of relief in the pain of their break-up. Part of her had felt too young to settle down with her first guy. But it had been easier to be raging mad at him for years.

And maybe it was his honesty, his apologies woven through everything. How he stoically, stubbornly stayed by her side. God knew why. But that’s how he’d cracked her wide open. And for once, she didn’t mind.

Forgiving him wasn’t about forgetting, either. It wasn’t just for him, but for herself, too. For the chance to move past the hurt.

Neither of them spoke, but his grip on her hand was a silent shout, tight enough to say he wasn’t letting her go. Not now, not ever. Like he was clinging to a lifeline. Or perhaps offering one. This silence between them was stuffed full of words they weren’t ready to let loose. She was stuck somewhere between wanting to bolt and wanting to jump him, to have his lips make her forget her own name along with every hint of doubt.

What are we about to do?

Not that she didn’t want it. Oh, she did. But the fear was there, nibbling at the edges of her desire, whispering what-ifs about the aftermath.

Equally, she didn’t want to have to put a note up on the wall of regrets that said, ‘I wish I slept with Connor, the man, when I had the chance.’

Because that chance was now.

As if he sensed her thoughts, his steps hastened, pulling her behind him. She glanced at him, trying to read the set of his shoulders. There was a rigidity to him. He was a fortress of tension. Not any tension – inhibition, holding himself back from saying too much. Or from saying anything real at all. A self-imposed distance.

As if he hadn’t forgiven himself.

Kirsty realised then what he was trying to do. Playing the part he thought she wanted. To make amends and make good for what happened. To erase the scars of their past.

But that wasn’t how it worked – they were both to blame – and it wasn’t what she needed.

No. She needed him. All of him. Pure and unfiltered. Eye to eye. Surrendering to her and to himself, too.

They barely made it to his flat when Connor snapped like a frayed rope. He turned the key, shoved the door open, and in one quick movement had her inside and pushed against the nearest wall. His body a furnace of need, his breath hot against her ear. ‘Let me make you happy, make you… Let me…’ His words trailed off, replaced by the craving in his touch.

This was their moment, raw and unfiltered, and neither of them was holding back.

‘I can’t stop… God, Kirsty.’

Her head lolled back as he plundered his lips down her neck. ‘Connor, I need you. The real you…just you.’

He plunged one hand under her shirt, roughly kneading her breast, and rolled his thumb over her hardened nipple. A moan rose from the depth of her throat.

‘This real enough for you, Freckles? This what you want?’ His voice was gruff with emotion.

‘Yes…and more. Connor, yes. Yes!’

‘Fuck it.’ He scooped her up, her world tilting as she found herself hoisted over his shoulder.

This was him. The man she’d somehow forgiven on the beach with his fingers buried inside her. He was raving with need. She loved that she had that power over him.

Because he had the exact same power over her.

‘I’ll show you the real me,’ he gritted out as he carried her. But when they entered what looked like his bedroom, he let her down gently, as if she were made of glass.

‘Kirsty, I—’ He fumbled for words. ‘I need you to know…’ There was an audible exhale. ‘I want you so much, it’s driving me fucking insane. But I haven’t done it in a while.’ He lowered his head, trying to hide a blush. This giant of a man who had fingered her shamelessly on the beach minutes ago was blushing.

‘Neither have I.’

‘No, you don’t understand. I—’

She brushed a fingertip over the furrow that worry had etched between his brows. ‘Then help me to.’

He sighed. ‘I only ever slept with you and Marta. That’s it. And you…I mean…in London… All the…you know.’

She had to suppress a snort. What was he thinking? That she’d spent her weekends at Eyes Wide Shut -style orgies with whips and masks? Nothing could be further from the truth. More like mouth wide open-style biscuit bingeing. ‘It’s okay. I had dates, boyfriends. But nothing out of the ordinary. I’m not a mad shagger or whatever. There hasn’t been anyone in a long while. And certainly no one like you.’

The tension in his shoulders eased but didn’t disappear. She kissed the crook of his neck. ‘Wanna know something?’

Instead of a nod, he squinted his eyes and let out a small grunt.

‘You, Connor Bannerman, are by far the sexiest, hottest, and most incredible man I’ve ever met. I had soft city boys when all I’ve been craving was you. No, it’s the truth.’ She kissed his chin, softly stroking his stubble with her fingertips. ‘I’ll let you in on a secret. The other night, after our second first kiss? I went to my room and had a wank, thinking of you. I only ever did that with Henry Cavill, if you must know.’

His suppressed laughter resonated in her chest. ‘You’re impossible, Freckles.’

‘I know. That’s what makes me special.’

‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’ He grabbed her hips and yanked her flush against him. ‘That’s not the only thing that makes you special.’

‘Oh, so you remember!’

‘Remember what?’

‘How good I am at blow jobs.’

He tipped his head back and laughed, and it made her all fuzzy inside.

She licked her lips in preparation. ‘Okay, Connor. You know the deal. An eye for an eye, an orgasm for an orgasm.’ She remembered their old rule and clearly, he did, too.

His amused gaze held hers as he unbuttoned his jeans. With a teasing smile, Kirsty sank to her knees, letting her handbag glide off her shoulder. Time to earn back his trust, make him trust her and himself again.

With a swift pull on his boxers, his thick hardness was unleashed in all its velvety glory. It was just as she remembered. Only better. He was firm in her palm, hot and smooth. She leaned in, relishing his masculine scent. Connor let out a muffled groan as she flicked her tongue over the sensitive tip. A shudder passed through him as she wrapped her mouth around him, moving her hand around his length.

‘God. Those fucking lips…’

The taste of him on her tongue, salty with a faint trace of soap…she couldn’t get enough of it. He tensed up as she took him deeper and faster. His fingers tangled in her hair, breath ragged. ‘Jesus, Kirsty… Fuck. This is… Go easy, baby.’

Her thoughts whirled like a carousel as she focused on the rhythm, her lips gliding along his shaft. Him pulsing on her tongue.

Oh yeah. This is fun.

‘Kirsty,’ he gasped, voice rough. ‘God, I…can’t… You have to…stop now… Stop. Stop. Or I’m going to come.’

She paused and looked up. His pupils were huge with primal want. Without warning, he pulled her to her feet with a force that took her breath away.

‘Need to be inside you. Right fucking now.’

Kirsty’s heart skipped a beat, her desire throbbing between her legs. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been with someone who wanted her so badly, like he couldn’t help it. Someone who made her feel this alive and loved.

Because that had never happened.

‘Say yes,’ he ground out. ‘Tell me you want this as much as I do.’

No doubt about that. Her swollen sex screamed for him in thrumming pulses. ‘Yes, Connor. Yes. God yes.’

Next thing she knew, she was on her back. In a flash, he slipped her shoes off and yanked her trousers down her thighs, revealing her lace briefs. He moaned in appreciation as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, too.

Damn, she loved this. The way he took charge, the way he made her feel both safe and on edge at the same time.

She lifted her hips, giving him better access. Because she couldn’t wait for him.

‘Fuck, Kirsty. Look at that beautiful pussy. So wet.’ His eyes darkened to a deep forest-green, almost as if he were hurting. ‘Heaven knows I want to fuck you bare. I won’t. Can’t. God help me.’ His voice cracked with despair. ‘But…I don’t have any here. I never need any.’

Any what? Oh, shit. A condom. We need a condom.

‘Let me check my bag. I…I might have one.’ She rummaged through the chaos, finding a small, unassuming packet. A relic of hope more than expectation. ’Found one!’ Relieved, she handed it to him.

He ripped the package apart. ‘Lean back and spread your legs for me.’ Then he nudged her thighs apart, positioned himself between them, and put it on. ‘Wider,’ he said and swiped the dome of his cock against her slick core.

She moaned, her hips bucking against him. ‘Now. Connor. Please…’

‘Tell me why you want this.’

‘B-because it feels…right.’

‘And why is that, hm?’ he demanded, teasing her entrance.

Unbearably hot. So hot. ‘Because…I missed this. Us.’

‘That all?’ He gripped her hips tightly with one hand, pushing in just a bit.

‘Because you’re the only one who can make me… You’re…you, Connor. Please, please. Please .’ She’d never begged for anything sexual in her life, but here she was, desperate for his cock.

And then he gave it to her.

He had to go slow, had to let her body adjust. Just like their first time. For a moment, they both held their breath, revelling in the sensation of being connected again. He was so fucking good inside her, so hard and hot, better than her wildest dreams or memories could ever do justice to. Connor swept her hair out of her face and kissed her tenderly. Her lips, her chin, her neck. His tongue flicked at her pulse point, sending shivers coursing through her.

‘Damn, Kirsty, I missed this.’ His voice was pressed. ‘How did I go so many years without?’

Tears pricked in her eyes. ‘Missed it, too. So much. So much.’

‘How do you want me to give you this cock, Freckles?’

She wrapped her legs around his hips, desperate to pull him even closer. ‘Deep. Want you deep. Need to feel you. You, Connor.’

He smiled, a bit proud, as he pulled back before plunging back in again.

‘Ah!’ She cried out. ‘Ohhh God!’

‘Like that?’

‘Yes, yes! Again. Don’t s-stop.’

Kirsty’s whole body was singing now, yearning for more. Mind fogged with bliss, the world outside ceasing to exist, her body remembered his. What it was meant to do – with him.

‘More. I need you to…lose control,’ she panted and rolled her hip forward. Each syllable choked by desperate gasps. ‘For me… Need you to…trust me…’

He gravelled out a low sound from deep within him and it sent jolts to her core. Barely contained wildness made his irises seem black. ’You…sure?’

‘Yes. Yes! Please! Hard. Please .’ Her hands raked his back, nails sinking into his heated skin.

Connor let go, increased his pace, her name on his lips in a litany of reverence and need. He buried his face into her neck. ‘Oh fuck, Kirsty. Kirsty…baby…baby…’

He pounded into her, the headboard slamming against the wall, years of longing unravelling. It was primitive and sexy and everything she ever wanted.

Their first time so many years ago had been sweet and gentle. But now he had a fervent look in his eyes and no more words. She grabbed his head and pulled him down. His lips collided with hers, drinking her soul. He captured her wrists, pinning them above her head and poured a stream of incoherent curses and sounds into her mouth. His grip on her tightened as drove her towards the edge of sanity. Connor Bannerman was possessing her whole being, and it was the best thing ever.

‘Connor, this is so…good. So…good.’

‘Ah, fuck yes. Beautiful.’ He pushed into her so deeply it hurt just right.

’Yes, yes… Say…’ she moaned in sync with his relentless thrusts, ‘that you…f-forgive me…for leaving.’

‘There’s…nothing…to—’

‘Say it!’ She yanked her heels against his ass and squeezed as tightly around him as she could, taking charge.

He let out an urgent moan. ‘Oh! Holy fuck! Yes, Kirsty…I forgive you. I do. I always… Jesus, woman!’

Her heartbeat thundered as he hit her in all the right places until she was a panting, shivering bundle. She couldn’t form thoughts; the pleasure was all-consuming. Ecstasy welled up in every cell of her being. Unstoppable. Heat in her belly about to explode. ‘Oooh God, Connor…I’m already… I n-need…OH.’

He was close, too, she felt the tremor of his muscles under her hands. ‘Please let…go,’ she sobbed, ‘with…me…’

And that broke his last bit of control. He let out a long groan, desperate, his grip on her hair tightening as he drove himself into her three more times. ‘Jesus. Christ. KIRSTY!’ He shuddered above her, his body a powerful wave crashing against hers in the perfect storm, a scalding flood engulfing her. Pressure expanding from her core, wave upon wave. She hung on to him for dear life as the world flipped on its axis. And she felt him, warm and endless, pulsing with their shared climax. Sated and boneless. Sweat and tears on her cheeks and his.

Connor Bannerman was hers again. And this time, she would keep him.