Carrie drops her hand to the cot and looks up at me, cheeks flushed, lips wet. “Not his,” she says, quiet and sure. “Mine.”
I swallow hard. My hands hover near her hips, close enough to feel the warmth of her skin. If I touch her now I will not stop.
“Good,” I say, voice low. “Then you decide what happens next.”
She smiles, slow and filthy, and opens wider. “Then get on your knees, Levi,” she whispers. “See me closer.”
I drop to my knees.
The cot frame presses into my thighs. Her scent fills my lungs. I set my hands on her hips and breathe once, slow, so I don’t lose myself in the first second.
“Eyes on me,” she whispers.
“I hear you.”
I lean in and kiss the soft inside of her thigh, then the other, then the smooth edge where thigh turns to heat. She trembles. I hover and let my breath drift over her clit. She makes a small sound, needy and sweet.
“Levi,” JC says behind me. A warning that sounds like want.
“Let him,” Nico answers, rough.
I part her with my thumbs and put my mouth on her. The first taste ruins me. Warm, salted sweetness, the slick slide of her against my tongue. I flatten it and lick from entrance to clit, slow, then seal my lips around that tender bead and pull gently. Her whole body jumps.
“God,” she gasps. Her hands find my hair. She doesn’t push. She guides.
I give her what she showed me a minute ago, that pressure, that angle. Short pulls, light circles, then firmer, then a soft tap with the tip of my tongue. I work her clit and keep it there, no teasing unless she asks for it. My fingers slide to her entrance and linger, gathering wet, then slip in, one at first, just to feel the tight draw of her around me. She squeezes. I add a second, curl them, and her hips rock against my face.
“Look at him take care of you,” Nico says, voice gone low.
“I am looking,” she breathes, though her head tips back on a moan when I suck again. “Levi, yes.”
I keep my pace true to her breaths. When she chases, I give her more. When she shakes, I ease for a heartbeat, then press a little harder. My fingers stroke that inner spot, firm and careful, and her thighs close around my head. I welcome the trap. Shetastes like heat and want, and every sound she makes turns the screws on the control I have left.
JC’s boots creak on the floorboards. He steps closer. I can feel him there, a wall of body heat at my shoulder. He doesn’t touch, but I feel the weight of his stare on my mouth working her. Carrie’s hand leaves my hair, slides down, and she holds my wrist as if to anchor herself while I curl my fingers inside her again.
“Talk to me,” I tell her, words against her clit.
“So good,” she says. “Right there. Don’t stop. Please.”
I don’t stop. I seal my mouth and pull, tongue flicking in a tight rhythm while my fingers stroke deeper. She rides it, hips rolling, abs clenching. The cot bumps the wall in a soft, relentless beat. Wet slicks my knuckles and coats my beard. I swallow every drop.
“Pretty little sounds,” Nico says, almost a growl.
“Shut it,” JC mutters, but he sounds wrecked.
I press my free hand to her lower belly, firm, pinning her just enough to give her something to work against. She grinds up. Her thighs tremble around my ears. I drink her in, breathe her, give her everything she asked for and everything I’ve wanted to give for years.
Her voice breaks on my name. “Levi.”
“I’ve got you,” I say into her, and suck harder.
The orgasm takes her like a wave. She goes tight and high and then she breaks, heat pulsing around my fingers, clit throbbing under my tongue. She cries out, loud this time. I hold her through it, keep my mouth on her, ride the roll and the aftershocks until she shivers and pulls at my hair.
“Sensitive,” she gasps, laughing a little, breath ragged.
I ease off, kiss her clit soft, then the crease of her thigh, then lick the taste of her from my lips and fingers. Her legs slip frommy shoulders. I straighten slowly, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and meet her eyes.
She looks wrecked and gorgeous. Cheeks flushed. Chest rising fast. Nipples peaked. Her lips shine where she has bitten them.
