My dick wins and leads me back down the stairs.
The fire is on in the lounge room, and I see him by the window, his back to me. The lights are dim, but his body is immaculate.
When I’m close I hear him say, “You broke your promise.”
I broke an even bigger promise to myself.“I’m here now.”
His shoulders drop, then he looks back at me. From this angle I can see his pecs curving out the top of the tank. I gulp and lose every word, every excuse I had ready in the chamber. I’m his puppet; all strings and no willpower.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he says, turning around fully. His nipples are hard through the fabric, and I have to clamp down on my bottom lip because I don’t know what the hell to do with myself.
With the devil in his eyes, he steps closer. “This is all for you." His fingertips drag across his bare clavicle. “You are allowed to touch.”
I let out a shaky breath and reach for his waist.
“You’re so bad,” I whisper.
“I’m the best.”
I nod because I can't do anything but agree.
My thumbs brush over his nipples and he shakes.
His stomach tenses and I drop to my knees.
With my hands on his lower back I press my face into his skin and breathe him in, his natural scent filling my nostrils. He strokes my hair then holds the back of my head.
When he hums, I look up at him.
His piercing pushes against my cheek.
I feel calm under his spell.
I might actually be able to pull this off.
Carey drags his thumb over my bottom lip. I suck it and sink my teeth in just enough to make him smirk.
“Why didn’t you want to see me?” he asks gently.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.”
“Will you sit with me, then?”
I nod again, and allow Carey to lead me to the leather couch. Guiding me to sit down first, he positions himself between my legs and leans back against my chest.
My hand finds his stomach. Absentmindedly I run my fingers over his creased skin before moving onto the thin fabric to feel his pecs, then back down to his stomach. The whole time Carey’s hand lazily sits atop mine like he’s living through me. I nibble on the tank's thin strap until it’s damp and one side is riding up exposing his ribs. All the while his other hand toys with a hole above the knee of my pants, pulling at it until he makes it big enough to slip inside of and grip at my thigh right over my scar. And that's when I realize both his hands are touching both my scars, like he's silently begging me to tell him their story.
Carey turns his head and brushes my cheek with his nose. "Why did you tense up just now?"
"I didn't."
"You're not a good liar."
"Maybe I'm just a little annoyed that you can manipulate me so easily."
Carey hums against my jaw. "I just said you weren't a good liar."
I shift, teasing him with my lips, and he takes the bait.
