I dug my fingers into her milky tits and started swaying my hips in and out, in and out. I stared down to watch my cock sliding in and out of her shaved cunt. Her pussy suctioned to me, like it didn’t want to let go. I would almost pull completely out of her, then slide back in. The sensation of it webbed through every fiber of my body. Every muscle tightened. Every nerve went on end. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to hold back.
“Shit… Katie… fuck… I’m… I’m… I’m gonna…” I was just muttering words now as my brain started turning over control to my cock. My fingers dug into her tits. I rolled her hard nipples under my thumbs.
“Faster now… Conner… fuck me… faster…” she moaned, bringing up her knees and wrapping her legs around my waist. She pressed her heels into my ass to prod me along.
I put my hands back on her hips to hold her steady, and sped up the pace, pummeling my cock into her tight box. I slid my hands under her ass and lifted her up to get a straighter angle. When I did, I slid even deeper inside her and I felt my entire body heat up all at once, as if I’d touched a live wire. My balls tightened as the orgasm started building toward a crescendo.
“I can’t… oh shit… I can’t… hold back… Katie… I’m… going to… cum…” I started jackhammering her cunt, slamming into her so hard the bed started to shake beneath her. The headboard slammed into the wall. Katie nudged me with her heels at my ass and gripped onto my arms for support.
“Yes… yes… yes…” she yelled, eyes closed, head back. “Fuck me hard… Conner… fuck me harder… oh… shit… Conner… oh… fuuuuuuuuuuck…”
I growled like a wild animal as I shot my load deep inside her. I pushed in as far as I could go and clenched my teeth as every muscle in my body went hard as rock. “Katie… I’m… ohhh…”
We jerked and moaned and twisted and groaned for what seemed like a full minute, then she went limp and so did I. My hands were still under her ass. I gave her a little squeeze and smiled.
“Wow, Katie the lawyer, that was fucking amazing,” I said, panting like a dog with my tongue hanging out. I guess I must have looked silly because Katie glanced up at me and smiled.
I asked, “What’s so funny?”
“That is what we call in Boston a proper Irish fucking,” she said.
“Funny, that’s not what we call it in New York,” I said, leaning down to press my lips to hers.
“Really? What do you call it in New York?”
I squeezed her ass and growled.
“In New York that’s called ‘Round One’.”
Chapter 22: Katie
Conner had planned a wonderful dinner, catered by The Wharf, a local restaurant that he claimed had the best seafood on the island. After tasting their food, I had to agree with him. They brought everything to his house and set it up in the dining room.
We feasted on fresh Maine lobster and New England crab that had been caught and flown in that morning. We had steamed veggies and a bottle of expensive white wine, followed by a decadent Tiramisu that literally melted in my mouth.
After dinner, we put on our warm coats and went down to the beach. Conner built a fire in the sand while I spread out a blanket. He had brought along a thermos of hot chocolate and he poured us both a cup after we settled in. We cuddled by the fire and watched the moon rise over the Atlantic.
“This is lovely,” I said, cupping the hot chocolate between my gloved hands to take a sip. The air was cool, but the fire gave off a warm glow that, along with Conner’s arm around me, kept me toasty warm. “I’ll bet it’s even lovelier in the summer time.”
“You’ll have to come back and see,” Conner said. “The water is like a warm bath in August and September. And this is a private beach, so we can swim and run around naked and make love on the sand without worrying about getting arrested.”
“I’d love to come back in the summer,” I said, watching him from the corner of my eye. “Do you think we’ll still be friends by then?”
He gave me a sideway glance. “Friends? Is that what we are, Katie O’Hara? Just friends?”
“Friends with potential,” I said. He gave me the smile that made me
tingle on the inside. He looked so handsome in the glow of the fire.
“Friends with potential,” he said, scratching his chin. “I like that.”
“Can I ask you something?” I asked.
He took a sip of his hot chocolate and sighed. “Sure. You can ask me anything.”
“What’s the deal between you and Cassandra Leone?”
He watched the fire rather than look at me. “Who said there was a deal between me and Cassandra Leone?”