Capturing Connie

Connie 10

T/W: Intense sex scene incoming. Slight BDSM actions and behaviors. Complete consent is there 100% so don't worry, loves.

I stand there, naked and vulnerable as Steven. I feel like I'm living in a dream, nothing feels real anymore. This perfectly imperfect man standing in front of me seems to turn the world inside out, turn me inside out.

He surges toward me and lifts me into his arms. "Connie..." He mumbles something into my hair and nuzzles in, breathing deeply.

I want to believe that this is it. That he will come to his senses and change. That he would realize what we have, and what we could have. That he would show me his demons.

I cling to him, listening to his heart beating quickly. It comforts me, but not much. I want to be with him. But truly, we could never be together. He's too guarded, too much of a painter. And how could we truly be in love if all he planned to do was finger paint over the truth?

We enter my bedroom and he looks around, still clutching me close. The windows are open, the gauzy white curtains billowing out with the breeze. There's a candle burning on the bedside table that I recklessly lit right before I left to go drinking, and the bedcovers are rumpled since I was too lazy to make the bed when I woke up this morning.

He stops and sets me down gently. It completely contradicts the not-so-gentle reminder grinding against my stomach. His hand presses my head against his chest and I wonder to myself if he's truly as evil and broken as he thinks he is. Given the chance, I would do my best to change his mind.

But I'm pretty sure he's not going to give it to me.

"Connie." He sifts his fingers through my hair and I nearly purr at the dual sensations. I love it when he says my name. I love it more when he touches me. I can hardly control my want when my lips meet his nipple; and I don't. I run my tongue around it before sucking it lightly.

"Stars," he groans, his fingers going tight in my hair as he holds me to him. I move to his other nipple and tease it with gentle flicks of my tongue. He pulls my hair hard enough that the pain mixes with the pleasure, and I moan. I'm already confused by the hunger this man causes in me, by the flood of wetness between my legs.

He pulls again and I let go. Steven backs me up into the bed so intensely that I fall less than gracefully onto my back. He doesn't notice, however. He follows my body closely and his skin is so warm against mine that I shiver with delight.

"Thank you," He whispers, his gaze dark as it sweeps over my chest.

"For what?"

"For letting me touch you. For letting me have you tonight." He kisses me, a sweet, sexy kiss. His tongue dances with mine and I push my hands into his curly hair. He can't be close enough.

"You don't have to thank me," I murmur when he breaks away from my lips to rain kisses along my neck. "Y-you didn't have to ask for permission, either. You already own me."

He slowly lifts his head to look at me, his expression full of pain. "Don't say that. Please." His voice is so genuine and soft that I almost back down.

Almost.

"But it's true." I say seriously. I lock eyes with him and I see a flicker of something in there. That something that's not quite human. And for some reason it makes me more sure.

"No." He shakes his head. "You don't want me to own you. You don't know what I've done. You don't know what I am. You don't know me. Not really." Steven sounds almost angry, but not at me. It's progress, though. This man is so closed off and all I want is for him to open up.