Being with her like this surpasses all of my filthiest fantasies.
We’re not even close to done and I already know this once will never be enough for me.
Sweat glistens on my forehead as I set a punishing rhythm, the sound of skin slapping against skin over and over, the back of the dresser banging into the wall. It’s loud and messy and sweet. She’s so sweet. Her sounds. Her breathy fucking moans that fill my head and swell my chest. The cries of pleasure as she gets closer and closer. The feel of her body, against mine, in my hands, all over me.
My teeth capture the lobe of her ear before I suck into my mouth. “After this, I’m going to eat your pussy in the shower,” I tell her, our eyes locked, her blue to my brown. “Then I’m going to fuck you again, Grace. You might have thought this was a one-and-done thing, sweetheart, but I plan to go all night.”
A moan flees her lips, her body starting to tremble against mine, her legs buckling. My fingers find her clit, slick and throbbing. I rub her, never slowing my pace. My hips piston into her as pleasure and pressure build within me. Never has anything felt better. More right.
Her hands slide along the dresser, the mirror swaying dangerously with our movements. I slip out of her again, flipping her around once more and then hoisting her on top of the dresser. She wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck.
But that’s not what I want.
Not yet at least.
With my hand on her chest, I push her back until her head and shoulders are pressed against the cool glass of the mirror, then I grab both of her legs and throw them over my shoulders. I dive back into her pussy, licking her out, tasting how aroused and close to coming she is. She screams, her hands ripping at my hair.
“Carter. I can’t…”
“You can,” I growl. Because she can. “Fuck, you taste good. I could eat you all night.”
We’re not doing this the gentle way. This is dirty and raw and uninhibited. The shower is where I’ll take her gentle and slow. It’s where I’ll feel her, stare into her eyes, and coax her pleasure from her body. But right now, she needs to let go. She needs me to fix the wounds her previous fuckface gave her even if she doesn’t realize that’s what I’m doing.
She needs to know how sexy and desirable she is.
How much I want her.
And maybe, just fucking maybe, I can trick her into staying with me just a bit longer.
I make out with her pussy until she’s a quivering, dripping mess all over my face. Until she shatters before my eyes, writhing, undulating against my lips, crying out her release. Then and only then do I shift her, move her legs around my waist once more, and unleash myself inside her. So deep I can’t tell where she ends, and I begin.
I fuck her. I fuck her so hard and so good all she can do is hold on. Is bite into my shoulder. Is dig her nails into my back.
“Fuck!” she screams it this time and that’s it.
That’s all it takes.
Her clenching around me, so quickly after her last orgasm, and I lose my mind. My balls draw up, pleasure shooting up my spine and through every nerve ending in my body. A rough, feral growl is ripped from the back of my throat as I lose my absolute mind in this woman. My pace slows, my hips lagging as I come inside her, shooting my load for the first time without protection.
Breathing ragged, we’re both clinging to each other, sweaty and spent, but so goddamn sated I’ve never felt this euphoric before. This whole. This complete.
Her head falls against my chest along with a strangled, breathy laugh.
My hand trails down her hair, cupping the back of her head, my lips pressing into her crown.
“I think we broke your dresser,” she muses, humor in her voice.
“I don’t care. Your clothes are in it, not mine.”
She laughs, the sound shaky.
“I wasn’t expecting that though maybe I should have.”
“What?” I ask, cupping her jaw and pulling her back enough so I can see her face, her eyes.
“For that to be the best sex of my life.”
Warmth swarms through me like a flashflood, flowing into my chest and sticking there, drowning me in her. My hand brushes back the dampened strands of her hair. “It was for me too. No question.”
Her eyes sparkle, a hesitant smile on her lips.
I lift her up in my arms, heading into the bathroom. Her bottom hits the counter and I go about turning on the shower, making sure it’s hot and then lifting her again and walking us both in. This shower isn’t as big as mine, but it’s big enough for two.
I press her against the tiled wall and kiss her lips. My hands in her wet hair, framing her face, and I kiss her like a man possessed. Like a man obsessed. Because that’s exactly what I am. If I thought I was obsessed with this woman before, that has nothing on me now. I’m consumed.
Owned.
Our tongues meet, dancing, tangling yet soft and coaxing. Neither of us are hurried, yet we can’t deny the resurging lust mounting between us. She rolls her body against my already hardening cock and I emit a grunt.
“More?”
She smiles against my lips. “Definitely more. I was promised all night.”
“You’re inviting the beast, you know. Once you take him out of his cage, there is no going back.”
Her fingers dive into my hair, her forehead pressing into mine.
“Maybe the beast is exactly what I needed. Besides, I already know that hidden beneath your beast is the heart of a prince. You can growl at me all you want, Carter Fritz, but I’m on to you.”
I hoist her up, her legs around my waist, feet digging into my ass, and I enter her.
And this time I do take it slow. I worship her body until we’ve both exceeded exhaustion. Until our limbs are weak and our minds spent. Then and only then do I tuck her into bed, my arms around her, holding her close. She passes out almost instantly, leaving me awake to watch her.
Sated. Happy. Terrified.
Tonight was everything I’ve dreamed of for a year and in a few short hours, I’ll lose it all. Time is already running out. Even now I feel her pulling away, her body twisting out of my arms in her sleep. And worse yet, I have no idea how to stop her.
19
Morning comes with a headache and a realization. I slept with Carter Fritz last night. And he’s still in bed with me.
Blinking my eyes open slowly, I stare straight ahead, listening to Carter’s slow, even breaths. I kissed Carter. I told him I wanted him. We had sex. A lot of sex. A lot of insanely good, mind-bending sex. To the point where I’m a little sore this morning. My muscles aching in that wonderfully used way.
But… I slept with Carter Fritz last night.
Did I already mention that?
A weird, twisted smile curls up my lips that I bite into, trying desperately to stop it.
I can’t get carried away with this. I have to tuck all thoughts of last night away or I’ll never be able to look at him—or fucking Oliver, for that matter—again. Now I have to figure out what to do. He’s in my bed—I still can’t believe he fell asleep in here with me.
I want to get up and shower and hide and run and scream and freak out and laugh and cry. But I can’t do any of that with him here and I can’t exactly kick him out of my bed in his apartment. Can I?