I do. When I exhale, the tension leaves with it. He pushes in again, slow and steady, all the way. There’s a stretch, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s just…full. Real.
Carrson’s eyes squeeze closed. “Fuck,” he groans, his voice breaking. “You feel so good, like heaven.”
We stay like that for a long second, just breathing each other in.
Connected. Tangled. Quiet.
He begins to move. Gently at first, watching my face, making sure I’m okay.
I wrap my legs around his waist and press kisses to his shoulder, his neck, the underside of his jaw. He moans my name, one hand gripping mine, our fingers laced.
He’s not trying to rush. He’s not chasing an orgasm. Each thrust is deliberate, the stoking of a fire inside me. He glides in, moves back out. Does it again. His hand comes down, circles my clit, runs up to brush against my sensitive nipple. Every touch, every pump of his hips, takes me higher into bliss, pleasure in its purest form.
I never knew sex could feel like this. Not dirty or degrading. Healing.
His tongue is in my mouth again as he pushes deep into me, moving more erratically now. Carrson loses control as he gets closer to release. I’m there, right along with him. My body tightens beneath him, tension building fast, sharp, and bright.
“Carrson,” I gasp. “I think—I think I’m—”
“I’ve got you,” he growls, his pace fast and relentless now. “Come for me, Laurel. Let go.”
Everything shatters.
Pleasure rips through me in undulating waves. I cry out, clutching at him, coming apart in his arms, while he follows with a low, guttural sound as he finds his own release. He moves for a few seconds more, extending my orgasm, riding along as I slowly come down.
Afterward, he doesn’t pull away. He stays inside me, his breath warm on my skin, both of us trembling. I don’t say anything, and he doesn’t either. Words are too small for what just happened. Too flimsy for this feeling, this tender ache in my chest that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with him. In the hush of that moment, our hearts thud in sync and the world outside fades away, becomes forgotten, until there’s only the two of us, Carrson and me, and the magic we made together.
***
Carrson
Laurel lies beneath me, soft and flushed and breathless, her body molded perfectly to mine, like she was made to fit there. I press a kiss to her temple, then another just beneath her jaw. Her pulse flutters against my lips, and it makes my throat go tight.
I’ve fucked before, more times than I want to admit. Fast. Forgettable. A means to an end.
But this…
This is nothing like that.
This is primal.
Like something ancient just woke up inside me and decided this woman is it.
The beginning and the end.
I want to protect it, this new feeling. Hoard it. Guard it like a secret.
I want to keep it, keep her. Not as a possession or as a prize, but as something far more dangerous, and that scares me. In my world, love is weakness. Caring forLaurel puts us both in danger, more than ever before because the stakes just got raised. But she trusted me, let me touch her even when she was scared, and I can’t ignore how good that made me feel. Like I was something more than just power over others. More than a role I never chose. More than my last name.
“Was—was it okay?” she asks, and the vulnerability in that question breaks my heart.
I’ll kill Preston for making her doubt herself. It’s not a false promise or an idle threat, just something I put on my to-do list. As far as I’m concerned, Laurel Turner is now mine…and I don’t let other people touch what is mine.
“Okay?” I echo, deliberately making my voice low and teasing. “Kitten, I’m still trying to remember my own name.”
She blushes, and it might just be the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Unable to stop myself, I kiss her again.
“And at the end?” I nuzzle closer, inhaling her sweet scent. “I totally lost control.” I keep my tone light, to give her something easy, something safe, which is what she needs right now. “Honestly?” I smirk and roll my eyes in mock exasperation. “It’salmostembarrassing.”
