I'm not sure how we managed to make it inside, but somehow, I'm being shoved against the front door with Connor's lips leaving searing, burning kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. He pulls the red lace of the lingerie bra I'm wearing back with his teeth, and the primal sound that vibrates in his chest has me wondering how the hell I'm going to survive tonight.

We became the new champions during his family's annual Thanksgiving tradition of charades, and obtaining the winning title had Connor revving to go as soon as we got home. Not that I'm complaining, of course. His family is incredible. They accepted me with open arms, and the love they share for each other is admirable. At the end of the night, when Connor was cuddled up by the fireplace with a sleeping Janie in his lap, I escaped into the backyard to call my parents. My mother was shocked that I had called her first, but the tears were endless when I asked if it was still okay if I came home for Christmas. I told her I had someone special for her to meet, and she couldn't stop asking questions about him.

For the first time, it doesn't feel like my problems are overpowering me. There's a light at the end of the tunnel that's been blocked off for years, and it's all because of the man currently worshipping me with kisses all over the damn place.

Connor pulls away, panting breathlessly. My heart stops when he turns the handle of my front door not once, but three times and says, "Just checking."

It's not a coincidence. Connor has been patiently studying me for a long time, so it's not surprising he picked up on my habit. Especially now that he's aware of my past, he knows my constant need to check things is for reasons beyond my control. I want to get help for it, and maybe now that I'm finally seeing the light I'll be able to do just that.

He scoops me up until my legs are wrapped around his waist like a koala and takes the stairs two at a time until we reach my bedroom. The clothing between us is bothersome, so between kisses, I'm tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt and tugging these damn sweatpants down he had to change into earlier.

"I need to be inside you," he growls. "Now."

He places me on my feet so he can strip himself of the rest of his clothes. I shamelessly eye his body that's been honed and crafted by years of hockey, his muscles rippling as he steps out of his briefs. Connor Holden is the sexiest man I've ever laid eyes on. From his rock-hard abs to his cock that's fully standing at attention for me, I can't seem to draw my gaze away.

His lips tilt up into a grin. "Your turn."

Ever since the accident, I've been self-conscious and have hated looking at myself in the mirror. All I saw when I stared at my reflection was a failure. A mistake. A person who always lets people down.

But Connor makes me feel like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world and little by little, he chipped at my defenses until there weren't any left. Tonight, I'm baring my soul completely to him. I'm laying it at his feet, trusting that he'll keep it safe because I want to be daredevil Aria again. I want to feel sexy in my own skin, so I'm allowing myself to be free. No more walls. No more defenses.

Tonight, he's getting all of me.

With a tiny smile of my own, I tug my dress over my head and let it fall to the floor. I'm in the red lingerie set and a pair of tights that showcase everything underneath. Satisfaction fizzles beneath my skin as Connor's pupils dilate at the sight, and the breath whooshes out of my lungs when he immediately sinks to his knees before me. My back is pressed against the wall, my breathing labored when he rips my tights open with his teeth and uses his hands to tear them the rest of the way off.

"Those were...expensive," I gasp.

"Good thing you won't be wearing them again then, hm? They get in the damn way."

"In the way of—Oh!" Connor wastes no time sinking his tongue in my pussy. He hums in approval from the cut-outs of the lingerie around my breasts when he's easily able to grasp one. My fingers rake through his curls, his eyes never leaving mine while he feasts between my thighs.

"Mmph..." He moans from the taste, suffocated by my pussy, and holy fuck I'm going to detonate. I can feel the pressure building, readying for release as I throw my head back and—

Connor rips his mouth away and shakes his head. "Not yet, baby. I want you writhing with pleasure, on the brink of utter madness when you come for me."

I thought I was there, but apparently not. My thighs are already shaking when he tosses me onto the mattress like a feather and crawls on top of me. His elbows are braced beside my head, and I find myself lost in the endless depths of his emerald eyes. "You're so fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Strong. Powerful. Beautiful..." I swallow down a sob before he adds, "And mine. All fucking mine."

"Connor, please." I wriggle beneath his weight, desperate for him to fill me, but he smirks that damn grin of his and bends down to lick the column of my neck.

"Do you like it when I compliment you? Talk you through it?" He moves a hand between us to grab his cock, rubbing it along my slit to gather the ocean of fucking wetness that's already accumulated. I buck my hips when he passes over my clit, creating teasing, agonizingly slow strokes.

"Oh my god." Nothing has ever felt better. I'm on the cusp of losing control, but Connor keeps me hovering right on the edge, never allowing me over. How can someone even be this strong? He's been supporting all of his weight with one elbow for almost a minute and showing no signs of tiredness. It's not fair to have that much stamina.

Finally, my prayers are answered. He slips the crown in, sucking in a sharp breath from the feeling. "You're so fucking tight." I roll my hips for friction, but his hand clamps down on my belly, keeping me in place. "What? Is the tip not enough, Aria? I'm warming you up for the rest of me."

An actual whimper leaves my mouth. "I don't need to be warmed up. I'm ready for all of you."

He must not like seeing me upset because he pushes to the hilt with one thrust, and the spark of divine pleasure floods through my veins. His cock is a damn drug for me. My eyes roll to the back of my head when he starts to move, his hips picking up speed, and then I'm calling out his name, begging him for more.

Harder.

Stronger.

Faster.

Connor obliges and does as he's told. His control is slipping, and the confidence he had five minutes ago has almost vanished completely. I know this because his breaths are shallower, and his thrusts are erratic and jerky. I love it when his brow furrows from concentration. Love when he stares at me like I'm the only person who matters in the seconds before he unravels.

"Come on me," I beg.

"Aria."

"Do it," I urge. "Paint me with your fucking come, baby. Brand me. Mark me as yours."

With a strangled moan, he pulls out and quickly sits up on his knees so he can stroke his cock. I watch in utter fascination, rubbing my clit frantically as he fucks his fist for me. In less than a minute, hot ropes of come explode onto my skin, and in response, I tumble over the edge of no return.

"Fuuck." Connor throws his head back after seeing the mess he created, tugging out the last remnants of his release. When he finally meets my gaze again, he rakes his eyes over my body, eyes glinting with pure arousal. "You look fucking perfect covered in my come."

I'm almost positive I can't move. My body feels like jello, but I do find the strength to wipe some of his come off my chest with my finger and bring it to my mouth. His jaw drops open when I dart my tongue out to taste him.

"Are you trying to get fucked again?"

I arch a brow. "Is that option on the table?"

"It can be."

Releasing a soft giggle, I prop myself up on my elbows and kiss his lips. Connor doesn't seem to mind tasting himself as he entwines his tongue with mine, and that's more of a turn-on than it should be. "Let's shower first?"

Connor whisks me into the bathroom, never letting my feet touch the floor, and I bask in contentment as he washes me from head to toe, using my loofah to get all my nooks and crevices. I do the same to him, conforming his body to memory, and when we're finished, he wraps me in a big fluffy towel before we head back into my bedroom.

I used to cringe at the idea of allowing myself to be happy with someone again, but Connor changed all of that. I'm elated as I watch him dry himself off with the towel, knowing he fully intends on staying the night. Now, I'm excited to wake up in his arms tomorrow morning. Maybe we'll cook breakfast together and watch cartoons until we have to head to the arena.

"Oh, shit. Sorry." Connor grabs my camera that almost fell off my nightstand from him bumping into it. Now that it's in his hands, he inspects it a little more, turning it over as if it's a foreign object. Maybe to him, it is. I appreciate the way his biceps flex beneath his skin and holy hell. Am I ready for round two?

"You know, you're my favorite muse," I say.

He smiles from ear to ear. "Yeah? Well, I've had a lot of practice in front of the camera."

I shake my head. "It's in the moments you aren't paying attention. When you're angry a play didn't go your way on the ice, or when you're smiling down at your niece. You're...breathtaking to capture, Connor." Taking the camera out of his hands, I push him down onto the mattress and straddle his naked body. "I analyze the details that others don't see."

A flare of recognition flashes in his eyes. "Because of..."

"Yeah. After what happened it...made me a better photographer. I know what to look for now. The version of themselves people try to hide from the world."

"And you can tell what I'm hiding from your photos?"

I lift the camera, and I'm seconds away from taking a picture until I feel his body tense beneath me. Immediately, I put my hands down. "Are you alright?" I ask.

"Yeah. Sorry, I just..." He releases a heavy sigh and drags a hand over his face. "I had an issue with the last photographer. We messed around one night and she wanted to take photos of me. I didn't think she'd threaten to release them two days later to try and get a promotion, but she went to Brian with photos of herself included, which I didn't take of her, but she made it seem like we did and spun it to where I influenced her to take them. Anyway, I got into a lot of fucking trouble with Brian."

My knuckles form a tight grip around my camera. That is the true story behind the last photographer? He didn't intentionally get her fired, but she used him to make up some fake story?

"You told Brian the truth though, right? That you didn't persuade her to take those photos but that she persuaded you into doing it?"

The sad smile that appears on his face tugs on my heartstrings at full force. "Kind of hard to believe the playboy of the year, right? My track record spoke for itself. Regardless, I didn't blame Brian for ripping me a new one. I'm the one that agreed to take the photos."

"But you didn't agree for her to use those photos against you, Connor." I blink away the angry tears, but it's almost impossible. How dare she try to play him like that? "Just because you had consensual sex with more partners than others, doesn't mean you don't have the right to your privacy. What happened to the last photographer wasn't your fault. She deserved to get fired."

He shrugs, his thumb rubbing in consoling circles along my hip bone. "I took the blame on myself for a while. Brian didn't want the story to get out, so I kept it to myself. Even the team doesn't know about it."

"Connor, that is so fucking unfair! You were used by some money-hungry bimbo, and—"

"Baby, it doesn't matter. I'm glad all of that shit happened because you came back into my life. I spent so long searching for you, and it was like fate when you appeared in that locker room. I'd gladly go through all of that again if it meant it would end in the same result."

"But—" I stop myself from going on a rampage, but what the hell? Sure, before meeting me, Connor slept around, but that doesn't mean Brian shouldn't have believed him. The photographer ended up being fired and got what she deserved, but the truth was never revealed.

Connor lifts my hands, which are still holding the camera, and says, "Take my picture."

"What? No." I refuse to be like her. Even though I would never use nude images of him as a ploy to advance further in my career,  it still feels...dirty, now. Wrong.

"Look in the lens," he coaxes. "You claimed you can analyze the details, right? Tell me what you see."

With shaky hands, I look at my muse—Connor Holden. With my straddling position on him, it hides his intimate parts, but the rest of his body is on full display. His abs, the v-line, the dusting of hair beneath his belly button... He's a work of art. But when I move the camera to his face, my hands start to shake because I...I've never seen him with that softened expression before. Like he...

I clear my throat, but the lump doesn't go away. "You look like you're..."

"In love with you," he finishes.

Not a question.

A statement.

A fact.

My vision is blurry, but I snap the picture anyway because I don't ever want to forget this moment between us. He's trusting me with this photo after being used in the past, and I promise to keep it somewhere safe where no one will ever find it. I want to look at that expression on his face for the rest of my life. It's one saved only for me. No one else.

"Baby." He smiles softly, and I snap another picture of it before placing the camera on the bed beside us. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I'm emotional! What do you expect? You just said you were in love with me, Connor. That's a huge fucking deal."

He laughs and flips me onto my back so he's hovering above me. "I mean it. If I'm being honest, I was in love with you after our night together in The Maldives. I may not have realized it then, but I was. You're the only woman for me, Aria Monroe, and if you'll let me, I'll stay by your side and help you kick every fucking demon you have to the side."

The tears are flowing freely now. I'm a blubbering mess as I try to get a grip. I should be saying it back, but I love you is something I don't take lightly. We just started dating, and if this ends a few weeks from now when the team finds out—which inevitably, they will—then I don't want to give that final piece of myself until I know without a shadow of a doubt this can work between us. I know I said I was giving him all of me tonight, but once Brian knows, Connor could be faced with the possibility of being traded, and if given the choice between leaving for another team and me, what would he choose? He'd have to leave his entire family. He'd have to leave Janie. I'd be foolish to think he'd choose me over them, nor should he have to.

Connor can see my brain going in a thousand different directions. He grips my chin with his fingers, forcing my eyes to his. "You don't have to say it back," he reassures. "I know we're taking this at your pace, but I couldn't go another day without telling you. I hope hearing it doesn't make you want to run."

I move to kiss his thumb, which is still wrapped around my chin. "I'm not running, and it doesn't scare me off. I'm really happy you told me."

He grins. "Really?"

"Yes. In fact..." I grab the camera beside us and pass it over to him. "I'm going to help kick your demons to the side, too." He remains silent when I get on all fours and arch my back, tossing a glance over my shoulder. "Snap away, baby."

He briefly closes his eyes before they open again with blazing desire. "Fucking hell, Aria. Are you sure?"

"Positive. We're building trust, and I'm going to prove to you that this moment between us is just for us to share. These photos will immediately be downloaded on a flash drive before they're deleted from my camera for good. You'll never have someone screw you over again. Not if I have anything to say about it."

He blows out a breath before he snaps a photo, and then I roll onto my back to give the lense a sexy smile, parting my thighs wide for him. I revel in the way he curses under his breath, his cock thickening at the sight. "Maybe if you're lucky..." I stick a finger inside my pussy, and the camera shutters. "I'll print some of these off for you to hold onto. Would you like that?"

"Jesus Christ," he groans.

The camera is forgotten momentarily when he drops it on the mattress and crawls on top of me, replacing my fingers with his, but we make sure to take turns after our rounds of lovemaking to build a private, dirty album solely meant for us.

Author's Note:

I've never cried while writing an 'I love you' admission, but this chapter definitely did me in lmaoooo

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