I scrub my hands over my face, feeling the pressure mounting. “He kept a lot close to the vest, but he asked some weird questions a few weeks before everything blew up. Wanted to know if I could get him access to the back storage. I told him to ask Jace, but he said he’d handle it. After that, things got tense. Money started going missing, and suddenly the feds showed up.”
Carrie’s lip trembles, and she leans in, desperate for answers. “Did you ever see him take anything from the safe? Or meet with those gunrunners?”
I shake my head, watching the panic in her eyes. “We weren’t involved in setting it up. You can trust me on that.”
She nods, but she’s close to tears, voice breaking. “I don’t know who to trust anymore, Nico. I don’t even trust myself.”
Her hands are trembling in her lap. She looks so lost, so fragile and fierce at the same time. I want to reach out, pull her into my arms, tell her it’s all going to be okay, even if that’s a lie.
Instead, I find myself leaning in, feeling the heat off her skin, the sweet scent of her hair. She’s holding on to me now, fingers tangled in my shirt, searching for comfort, for something solid.
I can’t resist her anymore.
She glances at the door, like she might get up and leave, but I reach for her wrist. My hand closes around her fingers, gentle but sure. “Stay a minute.”
She looks down at where our hands meet, then at my face. For a second, it’s just us. The tension in the room crackles, something electric and hungry.
Without another word, I pull her in and our lips crash together, hungry and desperate. Her hands tangle in my hair, myhands on her waist, dragging her closer. She lets out a soft gasp as I deepen the kiss, her body melting against me.
She swings a leg over, straddling my hips right there on the infirmary cot, her skirt riding up. I grip her thighs, pulling her down so she’s pressed tight against me. She moves with me, grinding slow, her lips never leaving mine.
I run my hands up her back, under her cardigan, needing to feel every inch of her. She kisses me harder, hips rocking, her breath coming faster.
Carrie’s weight settles on my hips, skirt riding up as she straddles me, her eyes dark and hungry. Our mouths crash together, teeth and tongues, nothing soft about it. I cup her face, then slide my hands down her neck, over her chest, filling my palms with her tits through the thin fabric of her cardigan and bra. She moans into my mouth, pressing herself harder against me.
She grinds against my cock, the heat of her pussy already soaking through her panties. I press up against her, letting her feel how hard I am for her, my hips bucking up just enough to make her gasp into my mouth.
“God, Nico…” she whispers, her voice low and wrecked.
My hands travel under her cardigan, finding her tits—full and soft, nipples already stiff. I squeeze and knead, thumbs rubbing over her bra until she’s panting, hips rolling over me. I slip one hand behind her back, unhook her bra, and slide my palm under the fabric. The skin there is so warm, her nipples pebbling up as I pinch and roll them between my fingers.
She moans, arching her back, pressing her chest into my hand. “Don’t stop,” she pleads, her breath hot against my neck.
I sit up, dragging her closer, sucking her nipple into my mouth, teeth scraping the sensitive flesh. She claws at my shoulders, tugging my jumpsuit down until my cock springs free,pressed right against her soaking crotch. I hook my thumbs into her panties and yank them aside, baring her completely to me.
She’s so wet I can feel it dripping onto my thigh, slick and hot. I run my fingers through her folds, circling her clit, rubbing in slow, messy circles until she’s trembling, gasping, hips grinding against my hand.
“Nico, please…” she whispers, voice breaking, “I need you inside me.”
I growl, can’t wait any longer. I line myself up, the head of my cock slipping through her slickness. She sinks down slowly, inch by inch, her tight pussy stretching around me. I grip her hips, help her take me all the way in. She throws her head back, mouth open in a silent moan, her tits bouncing as she starts to move.
The cot squeaks under us, the only sound besides our ragged breaths and the wet slap of skin on skin. She rides me slow at first, savoring every inch. Her hands are on my chest, nails digging in, her hair falling over her shoulders. I reach up, cupping her tits, pinching her nipples, loving the way her whole body shudders at my touch.
I can’t keep my hands still. I move them down her body, over her stomach, grabbing her ass and using it to guide her rhythm. Each thrust is deeper, harder, her pussy clenching around me so tight it’s almost too much.
“Look at you,” I murmur, voice hoarse. “Taking every inch. Fuck, Carrie, you feel so good.”
She whimpers, grinding faster, rubbing her clit against the base of my cock. I slide my thumb between us, circle her clit, feel her tighten even more.
“Don’t stop, Nico—don’t you fucking stop—” Her voice is a broken plea, desperate and wild.
I roll us over, pinning her beneath me, her legs spread wide, knees up, her skirt bunched at her waist. I thrust into her, hard and deep, every inch burying inside her. My cock slides in andout, wet and thick, her pussy clutching at me. Her tits bounce with every move, her hands tangled in my hair as I kiss her neck, her jaw, her mouth.
I fuck her harder, my hips slamming against hers, the slap of our bodies echoing in the room. She cries out, bites my shoulder, her nails raking down my back.
“Come for me, baby,” I growl, not stopping the rhythm. “Let me feel you.”
She shudders, her whole body tightening, and then she breaks, coming hard around my cock, her pussy pulsing, her cries muffled by my mouth. I keep thrusting, chasing my own release, gritting my teeth as she rides out every last spasm.
