Page 75 of Speechless

“That’s too far, baby.”

Forgiveness. He’d forgiven her for freaking out, for running away in blind terror when she should have run to him. She’d lost her faith in him, in them, but Connor was willing to set it aside and work on rebuilding what her distrust had damaged.

She didn’t deserve a Daddy like him.

Jenna inched over the mattress toward him, closing the small gap in increments as she gauged his reaction. Her gasp echoed in the room when his arm slid under her, curled around and pulled her flush against his body.

“There, that’s how I like my girl,” he crooned. “You’re not in trouble, Jenna. You’re not in danger. Make yourself comfortable.” He grabbed the TV remote from the bedside table, switched it on. Channels flipped past until he found a popular zombie show, then he set the remote aside and rested back on the pillows.

Flush against his hard frame, Jenna took a slow breath. Tentatively, her arm draped over his bare stomach. Muscles twitched at the contact. She tucked her head into his shoulder and waited.

Fingers trailed up her spine over the T-shirt, back down to the crease of her butt. Up and down, one slow motion of sensation. Tension seeped from her limbs, gave her enough room to sigh and snuggle into his warmth.

She listened to the voices from the TV, jolted at the screams that occasionally disturbed her peace, and surrendered to Connor’s touch.

Up and down. Up and down.

For a while, she dozed. Lulled by his hand, comforted by his scent. This was how she wanted to be with him. This is what she found in him. Solace.

Her fingers kneaded his skin, traced his ribs. Absently, thoughtlessly. Eyes half-closed, mind blissfully clear, she explored his torso with light fingers. He had smooth skin, not marred like hers.

There were hairs on his chest, downy beneath her fingertips. His breath caught when she brushed over his nipple, toyed with the raised nub idly. Her hand drifted down, palm skimming over the firm ridges of his belly, fingers circling his navel.

Connor’s guttural groan jolted her from her mindless journey. His hand grasped hers before she could snatch it away. “Nothing you’ve done is wrong, baby. It feels really nice.”

Pride spread through her. She’d made him happy. She turned her face into his shoulder and smiled shyly, not quite sure what to do with the sliver of praise. “I-I…I don’t know what to do now.”

“Whatever you want, baby. No pressure.”

Take the gift, Cain had told her. Trust the man she loved. She was his woman, and he was her warrior. There was nothing to worry about. He wouldn’t squander his hold on control, not when he knew how much she worried.

Jenna pushed herself up, made herself meet Connor’s eyes. They were the darkest she’d seen them, lust and love warring for prime position. Her hands reached down, fingers curling around the hem of her T-shirt. She saw lust win an instant before she pulled her last defense over her head and tossed it aside.

“Brave girl,” he murmured. “Brave, beautiful girl.”

Her nipples peaked as her barely existent breasts tightened. A new and strange sensation that shot wet heat between her legs. She squirmed in place, hoping to ease the annoying ache building inside her yet again.

“Want me to make it go away?” Connor grinned at her, obviously amused by her frustrated wiggles.

She glanced at his body beneath the covers, gaze dropping to the small mountain at his crotch. Connor appeared unperturbed by the phenomenon, but Jenna...that damn curiosity kept raising its head, urging her to get into bother.

“Ah,” he mused, eyebrow cocking with surprise. Without flare, he drew the covers down low enough to expose the hard length of his erection. It sprang upwards, released from its confines, bobbing under its own weight.

Huh.

Jenna bit her lip, gulped. She’d seen glimpses of him before, but the full effect hadn’t really hit her. Not like this. “Um...”

“It’s above average,” Connor informed her with a placating undertone. “It’s not a weapon.”

Sure looked like one. Jenna looked down at her hand, doubted she’d be able to enclose it in her fingers. More worryingly, she guessed both her hands combined wouldn’t compete with the length. “Sarah wasn’t kidding about your personality,” she said, suddenly dry-mouthed.

Connor winked. “The O'Malley brothers' legacy.”

“If you lose control with that…” she murmured nervously.

His eyes lost their manic, lustful edge and became utterly sympathetic. “Baby, you can’t think like that. When you’re ready for me, you won’t know anything but pleasure after the first few seconds. After that, you won’t have to worry about it again.” His hand slipped to her nape, rubbed. “Give me your hand.”

“First few seconds?”