“Carrie,” I warn, but she reaches for my wrist and guides my hand to her cheek. Her skin is cool and soft. The contact sends a current through me that has nothing to do with the heater.
“I want you,” she whispers.
“You don’t want this,” I tell her. “You’ve had a night. You’re not thinking straight.”
“Not anymore,” she says, gaze clear and fixed on me. She leans in and presses her mouth to mine. It’s a quick kiss, soft at first, then insistent. My body answers even as my mind throws up every reason to stop.
From the doorway there’s a twin scrape of throats. JC and Nico both look anywhere but at us.
Carrie gives them a mischievous smile and her fingers slide to the edge of her underwear. “What does it look like I’m doing?” she says when JC starts, “Carrie, what are you?—”
She unhooks her bra and lets it fall, nipples tight under the cool air, then slides her thumbs under the waistband of her soaked panties and pushes them down her thighs. The cotton snags at one knee, then drops. She sits back on the narrow cot, plants her heels on the edge, and opens for us.
My protest dies on my mouth. Pink and glistening, trimmed hair framing slick folds, her clit peeking as if asking to be touched. Heat rolls through me so fast I have to lock my jaw.
“You’re walking a dangerous line,” Nico says, voice low.
“Am I?” she asks without looking away from me.
“You belong to our boss, Jinn,” he adds, testing her.
“Not anymore,” Carrie says, and the sound of those words is a match to dry tinder inside my chest.
She parts herself with two fingers, slow, and shows me. Inner lips swell around the press of her touch, wet catching the light. She strokes up, circles her clit in lazy, tight loops, then dips down. The sound is soft and slick and it goes straight to my spine.
“Levi,” JC warns. I hear him. I don’t move back.
“Keep looking at me,” she tells me, voice a little breathless. “I want you to see.”
I see everything. The small tremor in her thighs as she teases herself. The way her stomach pulls in when she pushes a finger inside, then two. The flutter around her knuckles when she curls them. The way her lips part on a broken inhale that makes my hands tighten uselessly at my sides.
“Tell me how it feels,” I manage.
“Hot,” she whispers. “Tight when I push in. So good when I rub here.” Her thumb finds her clit again, tiny circles, patient pressure, exactly what I would have done with my tongue. She shows me the rhythm she likes, the angle, the drag. My vision blurs at the edges.
Nico swears under his breath. JC stops breathing for a second.
She draws her fingers out until only the tips remain inside, then slides them back deep and rolls her hips. The cot bumps the wall. Wet gleams on her hand and coats the swell of her sex. She keeps her eyes on mine, pupils blown wide, a dare and a promise.
“This is wrong,” JC says, but he doesn’t leave.
“Shut it,” Nico mutters.
She reaches for me with her free hand, hooks two fingers in my belt, and holds me there as if I’m on a leash. My body goeshot-cold. Her other hand keeps moving between her legs, thumb circling, fingers thrusting, the pace steadying into purpose.
“Please,” she breathes. “Don’t stop me.”
“I’m not stopping you,” I say, and it comes out rough. I brace my palms on the cot frame near her hips and lean in until I can feel the heat of her on my face. I don’t touch. I let my breath slide over her clit and her whole body shivers.
Levi,” she says, and hearing my name in her mouth is a sin I’ve wanted for months—longer than I ever should’ve let myself.
“For me,” I tell her. “Come for me.”
She bears down on her fingers and grinds her thumb in tight circles. Her belly tenses, thighs shaking, a flush rides up her chest. The slick sound quickens, then stutters. She goes rigid, mouth open, eyes locked to mine as the first pulse takes her. She cries out, tries to swallow it, fails, rides it through with a roll of her hips that drags a fresh gush over her knuckles. I watch every second, claim it with my eyes, hold her gaze so she knows who’s taking this from her and keeping it.
Aftershocks ripple through her. She pants, small sounds that ruin me. Her hand slows, then stills. She pulls her fingers free and brings them to her lips. She sucks them clean, tongue stroking along the seams, and I feel my control tear.
Nico curses again, helpless. JC mutters something that might be a prayer.
