“Good, peaches, keep your eyes open.”
His hands tighten on my hips as he pushes into me, slow and deep, stretching me, filling me completely. I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, my body trembling beneath him.
Carson lets out a filthy sound, jaw tight, every muscle strung as he holds on by a thread.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growls, his movements slow and deliberate, dragging pleasure through every nerve ending.
I moan, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist, tilting my hips, needing more.
“Faster,” I pant.
He doesn’t hesitate. He pounds into me, his rhythm ruthless, each thrust hitting deep, shattering every rational thought I have left.
I claw at his back, desperate, lost, spiraling toward another release as he fucks me as if he’s trying to brand himself into my soul.
I can’t breathe.
I don’t want to.
I just want this.
Want him.
Want this moment to never end.
Carson’s grip tightens, his rhythm faltering, his mouth crushing against mine in a kiss so possessive, so devastatingly perfect, that I explode. And as I shatter apart beneath him, I know—I’m completely fucked. In more ways than just one.
CHAPTER 32
Finn
I knew it.
I knew she wanted him.
I knew the moment she pressed herself against him in that hallway, the way her perfume changed, thickened with heat, with need. I saw it in the way he looked at her afterward, in the way he didn’t touch her even though he wanted to.
But this?
This is so much better than I ever could have imagined.
From my vantage point across the street, the blinds leave just enough space for me to see inside, to witness everything. My view is perfect. Her bedroom is bathed in golden lamplight, the sheets a mess beneath them, their bodies tangled together.
Carson’s broad back moves as he works his way down her body, disappearing between her thighs. Fuck.
I tighten my grip on myself, my other hand bracing against the glass as I watch her fingers curl into his hair, her head tipping back against the pillows.
I can’t hear her, but I don’t need to.
I can see everything. The arch of her back, the way her lips part, the way her thighs tremble around his head.
She’s falling apart beneath him, and he’s loving it.
I stroke myself slowly, my breath steady, my focus razor-sharp. This is a gift. A moment meant just for me, just for us.
Because this is only temporary.
She thinks she’s making a choice.
