His words relax my shoulders. My eyes drift back to the box on my breasts, and impatience strikes me cold. “Just open it, Connor,” I say angrily.

He squeezes my kneecap in a firm clutch, and that hand descends to the top of my thigh, his fingers gripping my flesh. “No.”

How can one word carry so much force? I clamp my thighs tighter, my bony ankles hurting as they dig into each other. I am so naked. So aroused. And I have to beg to get what I want. I can feel how wet I’m becoming, and he raises his eyebrows knowingly.

The spot between my legs clenches.

Jesus Christ.

The longer the anticipation, the more torture. So I suck up my pride and take a deep breath.

“Please, please, please open the box,” I plead in a whispered tone. “I want it badly.”

To my surprise, he snaps the velvet case, flipping the lid. My heart careens as I absorb all the diamonds, strung together in long rows. The entire necklace is made of them. It shines and glitters in the dimmed light, the jewelry turning me on almost as much as his words.

And then I finally see past the linked gemstones to realize what type of necklace this is. Not just a choker. No. These diamonds are embedded into a leather band with a silver buckle at the back.

It’s a collar.

Anger boils in me like nothing before. “I’m not your pet.”

“You are my pet.” He climbs further onto the bed. “You’re also my girl. My lover. As I am your man. The only difference…” He pauses, drawing out the tension between us. “I’ll always be on top.” With both of his hands, he has hold of my legs and in one motion, he spreads them apart. I try to writhe against him and return my thighs to the “locked-you-can’t-have-me” position, but he glares. And a Connor Cobalt glare is very, very hard to come by. His new dark expression causes my body to go utterly still.

And then the corners of his lips curve upward. Like a fucking prick.

“Gloat all you want. I’m not wearing it,” I snap.

His smile spreads from his mouth to his eyes. “Stop me then,” he challenges. But he has pinned me down with his body. His pelvis in line with mine, his erection hard against a spot that hates and loves him.

I can’t stop Connor.

Even if I truly wanted to.

I’m barely breathing as he delicately wraps the leather choker around my neck. His fingers graze my skin as he buckles it in the back.

My anger is replaced by this feral need for him. My entire body screams for his touch, to know what he would feel like within me. And for the first time, I’m about to find out.

He leans back to soak in my body, my position and readiness. I watch his eyes flit from my new diamond collar, to my reddened breasts from his hands, to my naked flesh that cries for him. Just come inside me already.

He rests a hand on the mattress beside my head, and he kisses my temple, his lips sucking a line down the nape of my neck, grazing over the fullness of my breasts, tantalizingly slow.

“Connor,” I moan, needing him to hurry.

“No talking,” he says huskily, his lips close over my nipple with a strong suction. The force bucks up my hips for more contact with him. He digs his hardness down into me, stifling my movements and stirring my desire.

“Con—”

His hand flies to my lips, muffling my voice. He resumes his exploration of my body with his tongue. I am at the mercy of his mouth, descending at a sluggish, tormenting pace.

All forms of intelligence have deserted me. My thoughts have resorted to a stupid, ridiculous chant. Lower, lower, LOWER!

“Lotherrr!” I mumble against his hand.

Connor bites down on the soft flesh of my hip—hard. The pain shoots up and ignites something new inside of me. Something stronger and headier. Spanking—I like. Choking—I like. So I shouldn’t be surprised that biting my hip flushes my cheeks and neck. But it does.

I like to be bitten.

Like a goddamn vampire.

Dear God.

“Shh,” Connor whispers with a forceful tone. He kisses the reddened mark on my hip and continues his descent. His lips finally graze my clit, flicking against the sensitive bud, and my entire body responds by jumping, my heart taking the biggest leap. A high-pitched noise catches in my throat, and I whimper.

His lips part at my sound, his breath deepening. He removes his hand from my mouth and lifts his head from between my legs. My eyes immediately fall to his pants where his erection tries, pathetically, to remain hidden.

He’s big, even beneath the fabric.

Any words that I anticipated saying have been lost to rawer senses. Like the way he sheds his pants slowly, without ever peeling his eyes from mine. Desire, passion, lust, they all spin inside me like a whirlpool with no bottom, no end, no resolution to these feelings.

He slips off his navy boxer-briefs, his cock in full view and closer than ever before. Connor nudges my legs open with his knees, locking them to a position for his use. He grabs my ass, squeezing and lifting me into his hands, stretching my arms that stay fastened to the headboard.

I’m horny and so confused.

Because he never slows, never hesitates. Not to put on a condom. The nerves that I kicked aside abruptly crash into me like a hundred foot wave.

Connor freezes, going still, concern shadowing his powerful gaze.

I must wear confusion on my face, a rarity for me.

“Speak,” he orders.

My throat has gone dry. I’m doing this all wrong again, I think. He continues to hold my bottom in his hands, my legs wrapped around his waist, but he sets me on the bed, no longer prepared to enter me.

Fuck.

“Dammit, Rose,” Connor glares. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re going to wear a condom, right?” I phrase it like a question, which makes me cringe. Normally I’d just command him to wrap his dick.

Connor’s shoulders slacken, and he lets out a breath of relief. I realize I scared him, an emotion he rarely feels. I suppose we’re bringing out new sentiments in each other.

I tap his thigh with my ankle. “I have one in my bag.”

A smile slowly overtakes his face. “Do you? Were you expecting to get laid on this trip?”

“I’m always prepared,” I remind him, trying to hide my own smile.

He picks up my foot and places a light kiss on the bottom of my heel. “No condoms,” he suddenly says.

“What?” I snap.

“I don’t want anything between us,” he tells me. He scoots forward, his hardness so very near, and his hands slide from my knees to my thighs. “I want to fill you, Rose, even after I pull out and hold you in my arms.” He wants to come inside you, Rose. I could stare at the ceiling and say, Thank you, Lord, but Connor would be so pissed. The thought almost urges me to do it, but the sensible part of me returns.

Because if he doesn’t use a condom that means… “We can’t…” I shake my head. “We can’t be hypocrites. Loren and Lil—”

“Are irresponsible,” Connor finishes for me. “Lily forgets to bathe and eat, and we both know she regularly forgets to take birth control, which is why we remind Loren to use condoms. And you, Rose, are the most responsible woman I know.”

His words have a way of placating worries, even mine.

I nod. This is it.

I can’t help but stare at his blue eyes that swim with a familiar ambition and passion. This is Connor, I remind myself. For ten years, I’ve known him. And not very many people ever truly do.

He’s roped to my gaze, inhaling a deep breath. He brushes a piece of damp, sweaty hair from my cheek. “I’ve wanted so many things in life,” he says softly, “but you’re the one that has meant the most to me.”

Translation: I love you.

His thumb skims my bottom lip. Oh, that thumb…

And then he plunges in, so hard and fast that I cry out. The pain comes all at once, but it’s slowly usurped by more pleasant sensations. He thrusts, pulsing each one in deep succession, the rhythm blinding my vision. I tilt my head back, my eyelids fluttering, trying to stay sane. The fullness drives me to a new place, but it’s the way his hips pound into me, his force as I stay bound to the headboard, that truly sends me over.

He grips my thighs for support as he pushes deeper. He lifts one of my legs higher to fit more of him inside me. I gasp and struggle against the belt restraints. Connor…

My whole world spins.

I’m drenched in sweat while a hot layer gathers across his skin. I’m also soaked between my legs, and if I concentrate on just how deep he stays, just how far he goes, how it seems like his cock rides into my belly, my back begins to arch. My rotating world lights on fire.

He groans as he hooks my leg underneath his arm, holding it up, rampaging my body like it belongs to him for this purpose.

God yes…

Why the hell did I wait so long?

The headboard rap rap raps against the wall, and Connor breathes in low ragged breaths through his nose, the determination in his eyes fucking me just as much as his cock. I want him to choke me. To steal my oxygen for a second.

And just like that, he grabs my leather collar while thrusting, not missing a beat. And he uses the collar to lift my neck up to his face, our lips meeting. He kisses me hungrily, passionately, eagerly—and he chokes me of air this way, my lips swell underneath his, numb to the pressure, his minty taste swirling in my mouth with his tongue.

As he thrusts again, he hits a spot that breaks my lips from his and mangles my voice. It was a noise from a place five-thousand-feet high, in a cloud.