Kit Connor Muscles Novels & Stories

I looked at Connor, who was engrossed in a conversation with my cousin Sarah who looked a little too eager to hear what he had to say. He was wearing Ansel's shirt, which was slightly tight-fitting on him. I could see the outlines of his muscles underneath the thin cotton shirt. He had his sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscular forearms. I pictured them wrapped around my waist. I felt heat rising from within. I suddenly felt hot and bothered. Maybe fake confessing to him wasn't the worst thing that happened to me. I tried to imagine what it'd be like to be trapped under that hard, muscular...

Maya had thrown a pillow in protest for the rude awakening on a Sunday morning, but I couldn't ignore my captain. Borrowing the first sports clothes I can find in Maya's extensive walking closet, I follow Connor into a gym. The air between us was tense, and we avoided breaking each other personal space at all costs. -"I have seen you fight. When it comes to self-defense, you have good training. The fighting skills and agility aren't the problem." He says while looking me up and down, my black leggings and loose crop tee making me feel slightly underdressed all of a sudden. "Try to conjure ice like this." Connor brings his hands together before himself before reviling the snowflakes in the pa

Easy for him to say- he mastered it after a couple of attempts, while I’m still frustrated that I can’t quite get it down. “Just a little bit longer?” I ask, looking around to my friends. We’re circled up in the clearing just outside of the gate to the complex where we’ve been practicing at night for the last week. “I’m beat,” Connor grumbles, reaching up to rub one of his shoulders. He dislocated it late this afternoon and hasn’t really rested it since to allow it to fully heal. “Same,” Shay agrees, scratching away some dried blood on her forearm. “Why don’t we just work on these again tomorrow?”

Ever. Thick eyebrows and unruly lashes framed his chocolate brown eyes, which twinkled with amusement as he looked down at me – because yet again, they were all freaking massive, and my 5’9” height was small compared to them. His dark hair was cut low, close to his scalp, and his high cheekbones and square chin were covered in the stubble of a neatly trimmed, full beard. I wondered if it would tickle or irritate my skin as it rasped against me? His skin was a lovely shade of reddish-brown—burnt cinnamon—and altogether beautiful. He seemed like he didn’t want to be touched when we first met, but skin like that just didn’t go untouched. Wide shoulders and a broad chest strained against the t-s

Killian got himself a pair of athletic shorts, but he didn’t bother with a top. He’s got his arms crossed, glaring again, his pecs and abs and the V dipping into his shorts all carved with precision. There’s a fine dusting of fair hair down the valley of his six pack, disappearing into his waistband. It looks soft. The muscles look rock hard. My fingers twitch. I quickly cross my arms, tucking my hands tight against my chest. “We’re not mates,” he spits, finally breaking the silence. It sounds like an accusation.

They quickly look around at each other and they give each other knowing looks. “You’ve been outvoted. He’s joining us”, Michelle says proudly. “Firstly, what’s your name and what is your link to Mr. Strongheart”. He pulls up to the seat next to me and starts addressing the group. “My name is Connor, and I work in his security team. My specialty is surveillance and intelligence, so I scope out and gather information to ensure the safety of the team”. Kimberly and Michelle are currently swooning over his words and batting their eyelashes for attention. Willow seems to be deep in thought and analysing his words.

“Thanks for joining us, Mr. Skogen. Please hurry and take a seat so I may proceed.” Connor nods his head to Mr. Wilimur and heads our way. Jet black hair cut just below the tip of his ears. Green eyes that were almost identical to Susi’s. Sun-kissed skin with zero blemishes. Sharp-chiseled chin you only ever read about. Muscles… oh the muscles. I feel like I am watching him walk towards us in slow motion. How can anyone be so flawless?

Connor said through his gritted teeth in resentment while he was spitting out blood, “I won’t let you off for this. I won’t ever—” Kayson slapped his shoulder and destroyed his muscles with his Novem Lightning Zero Impact. Connor let out an agonizing scream instantly.

Lane says, walking up behind him and slapping my father on the shoulder. “One of the best workouts I’ve had in a long time,” my father says, smiling at him. Well, that’s unexpected. “Me too. Your pack has a completely different fighting style than what we have, Ken. It’s pretty awesome! I feel like I’m back in pup school learning how to fight all over again,” Connor says. He’s at least not limping. “You’re not the only one. Your brother is deadly,” Kelvin says to me walking in with Connor.

The sensation of being filled by the second twin, the mix of both their loads inside me, hot and heavy and overflowing, makes my walls convulse in aftershocks. He stays buried. Breathing hard. His forehead drops to my chest, resting between my clamped nipples, and for one moment, just one, there’s tenderness under everything. Then Connor produces a chain from somewhere. Thin. Metal. With a cuff at one end and a bolt at the other. He fastens the cuff around my ankle and bolts the other end to the support beam in the corner of the basement. “What are you—”