Slowly, he works his fingers deeper, curling them to stroke my G spot. Everything inside me coils to unbearable levels when he does it again, faster and faster, his chest heaving against mine, the warm water trickling down our bodies.
My spine arches off the tiles, but I don’t dare close my eyes. I keep them wide open, grounding myself in the present the only way that works: by staring at his tattoo. The permanent proof he loves me and wants to spend his forever with me.
“Whose are you, Hailey?” he grunts, dragging his hand up my side. “Say my name.”
“Carter. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t.” He covers my mouth with his palm.
There’s no need for that. No one’s here save for us, but it’s one more detail that feels familiar and keeps me in the present, with him.
He powers his fingers deeper, faster, toys with my G spot like it’s a button that only works when pushed with a secret combination of touches.
“Look at you,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re mine. Fucking perfect. Where’s my orgasm? Close, isn’t it?”
I nod, half-limp against him. My legs tremble so hard I can barely keep myself upright.
“Three,” he tuts, pressing his whole body into me, his hard cock imprinted against my belly. “Two... you better come for me.” Just like he did at Lakeside, he swaps his fingers, using his ring and index to fuck me, and the middle one to circle my back entrance. “One, Hailey. Let go.”
My body tenses like a piano wire, pure pleasure seizing my muscles. One more thrust and I’m coming. Dark spots dance before my eyes and fireworks skitter across my nerve endings as Carter sinks into my mouth, swallowing every sound I make.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, slowly pulling his fingers out. Holding my gaze, he lifts them to his lips.
My stomach cramps as I watch him lick me off him, savoring the taste like he’s sampling the finest wine. He scoots me into his arms, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist, and pins me against the wall again, using one hand to guide his cock inside me.
He doesn’t wait for my reaction, sinking balls-deep in a long, slow, measured thrust. I feel every inch, the intensity of that stroke bordering on too much. I don’t know how he does it, but it’s the most divine sensation when he stretches me slowly, bottoming out with a low growl, his fingers flexing round my thighs.
“That’s so good,” I murmur, staring into his dark eyes.
He does it again... pulls out oh so slowly and sinks back inside with enough force to tip my world sideways. He’s not rushing, but somehow he makes every thrust so intense I can barely take it.
I dig my nails into his shoulders, using him as leverage to lift myself higher. Enough to reach his lips and slip my tongue into his mouth, tasting him in sync with his cock sinking inside me.
“Oh God,” I mewl when he moves one hand to toy with the other hole.
“You promised me this, Hailey. I’ll hold you to it. Not today, but soon.” He circles the ring of muscles, slowly easing his thumb inside. A fit of shivers makes me spasm and I can’t hope to control the sounds leaving my lips.
I cling to him, my lips drawing lines in the crook of his shoulder and neck. I nip his ear next, but nothing gets me the reaction I crave. He makes me lose my sanity with the faintest touch and I want him to lose his... but his control never wavers. I hate that I can’t give him the same high he gives me every time he’s close. I want him crawling out of his skin, so turned on he can’t think straight.
There’s only one way to make that happen. And I’m done letting him talk me out of it.
“Stop,” I pant.
Even though he’s only supposed to stop when I sayapple, he freezes. He’s still deep inside me, his thumb in my ass past the first knuckle, but he stops moving.
His heart thumps faster, dark eyes searching mine. “What is it?” he asks, nudging my nose with his. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just...” I wiggle until he gets the hint and lets me stand. “My turn,” I add before I sink to my knees, taking him in one hand.
“Hailey,” he grunts, a clear warning laced through the order in his tone. “No.”
“If you’re not enjoying it, if I’m hurting you, or if you’re uncomfortable, sayapple,” I instruct, working my hand up and down his hard cock. “But if you’re worried about my head...stop. I won’t push myself further than I can go.”
He stares at me, lips parted, fire burning in his eyes. Dark, wet hair falls onto his forehead, sending trickles of water down his handsome face. All hard lines and ruthless attitude. He makes my blood sing when he stares at me like I’m being bad and he can’t decide whether he loves that attitude or his hand needs to teach me how to be his good girl.
I purposely twist my hand at the tip the way he liked when we played in the shower at Lakeside, racing to get the other off faster.
“I want this,” I add because the battle raging inside him is nowhere near over. “Please... let me.”
