Her eyes go wide, her breath stuttering, and she moans so loud it makes my cock throb.
“Inside,” she whimpers, desperate. “I want it inside me, Carter. I want all of it.”
“Fuck,” I groan, slamming deeper, faster, feral now, my control gone. “Then you’re gettin’ every last drop.”
Her scream rips through the room as she comes again, convulsing around me, soaking me, and I follow right after, spilling into her, filling her until it’s dripping out around my cock.
I don’t stop moving, fucking my cum into her, groaning against her throat. “Take it, baby. Take all of me. You’re mine, every fuckin’ inch of you is mine.”
CHAPTER 6
Catalina
Sunlight pours into the kitchen, and Carter is leaning against the counter like a smug bastard. He’s shirtless again, coffee mug in hand, tattoos flexing every time he lifts it to his mouth.
And even worse, he’s smiling at me, all gentle and loving, like he didn’t ruin my entire existence last night.
I slam the fridge shut a little too hard. He raises a brow.
“What’s got you all worked up, darlin’?”
I whirl around, pointing a finger at him. “I’m mad at you.”
His smile falters just a fraction. “What? Why?”
“You edged me for hours. Hours! You dragged it out, teased me until I was ready to combust, and then—” I throw my hands up, “—you just sat there acting like it was your God-given right to torture me. I should hate you right now.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Baby, you loved it. You were beggin’ so sweet for me?—”
“Don’t start,” I snap, jabbing my finger at his chest. “I’m still mad.”
He smirks into his coffee, takes another slow sip, then has the audacity to say, “Baby, calm down.”
Oh?
Yeah, that’s a FUCK NO from me.
The fuck you mean, calm down.
My jaw drops. “What did you just say to me?”
He sets his mug down, brows lifted like he doesn’t even realize the war he’s just declared. “I said calm down, baby. You’re gettin’ all riled up over nothin’.”
“¿Nada?” The heat in my blood goes nuclear, Spanish pouring out before I can stop it. “¡Que te jodan, Carter! No me digas que me calme, pendejo de mierda. ¿Quién carajos te crees, eh?” (“Nothing?”“Fuck you, Carter! Don’t tell me to calm down, you fucking asshole. Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?”)
His brows shoot up, and he leans back against the counter, grinning.
I’m still going, pacing the kitchen, my hands flying everywhere. “¡Eres un desgraciado, un cabrón! Te odio, te odio, te odio—” (“You're a bastard, a bastard! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you?—“)
He’s laughing, actually laughing. “Darlin’, I’ve got no idea what you said, but it sounded hot as fuck.”
I gape at him, furious. “Hot?Hot?I’m cussing you out in two languages and you’re standing there with your stupid smile?—”
He sets his mug down, stalks toward me, and cages me against the counter before I can finish. “Can’t help it,” he says, gripping my jaw. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”
I escape his hold and push past him before he can even think about kissing me, because no. He doesn’t get to edge me for hours, then tell me to “calm down,” and try to charm his way out of it with one look.
Not this time.
