58. Beg Me Baby #2
I rested my forehead against his chest, burying myself in his scent, his warmth, his familiarity. “He shot you so many times—how?” I cried against his heart, wondering how it wasn’t filled with holes. “I watched you bleed out on the floor—you were dying .”
He cradled my head. “I had my vest on sweetheart.”
“I didn’t know. I thought—for days I thought you were—” My voice cracked as I sobbed against him.
“I know.” He held me so gently. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s twice now you’ve almost died on me.
” I finally looked up at him through blurry eyes.
“That’s twice now I’ve had to stand by, watching you teeter on the brink of death, your beautiful face all black and blue.
” I cupped his face gently. “Even when you pushed me away, I never stopped loving you, and then I had to watch them hurt you, Carter.” I was so angry at him for it too, at everything.
A tear slipped down his cheek. “How do you think I felt? Watching him hit you, threaten to do those awful things to you, Sara—I’ve never felt more helpless or powerless in my life. He was hurting you, and I couldn’t get to you.” His eyes shuttered.
“I can’t lose you, Carter. Not ever again.” I cried desperately.
“You won’t. You’re the only one there has ever been for me, and the only one there will ever be.”
His body was so comforting, so warm, so alive right in front of me, and as I gazed into those soft brown eyes, feeling like I was finally home again—I pushed forward that last little breath.
Maybe it was me, maybe it was him, but the moment our lips touched we were frantic. It wasn’t one of those perfect kisses, it was desperate. Teeth clashing, moaning, hands everywhere. A question and answer over and over again. Confirmation that we were both alive, that this was real.
“Say you’ll marry me.” Carter groaned between kisses.
“No,” I whimpered as his warm fingers slid up under my shirt, being careful of my injury.
“We’re inevitable.” He moaned into my mouth. Cocky bastard. He might be right, though.
I broke the kiss, pushing him back, and he let me. “This is crazy.” I said, wide eyed. “You’re crazy.” Love was one thing—marriage another thing entirely.
“Why?” he demanded, scrubbing a hand over his stubble. “Because I know what I want?”
“Do you know what you want?” I demanded. “What about that fucking blonde you were kissing? Blondes have always been your type.” Lest we all forget that damning little detail. Fuck. There went that damn string swinging away once again.
“Sarafina, sweetheart—why the hell do you think I always went for blondes?” He practically begged.
“Because you look picture-perfect with them.” I gritted, hating how inferior that made me feel.
“No!” He rasped incredulously, as if I’d completely missed the point.
“I’ve been so in love with you for so fucking long, and when I couldn’t have you, I literally couldn’t bear to be with anyone that looked even remotely like you—it was too damn painful.
” I swallowed hard at the confession, slowly realizing the truth of it.
“And that stupid photo—I thought making it look like I’d moved on would keep you out of the crossfire.
You were right. It was a PR stunt to throw off that goddamn organization, a fake date, and she yanked me down for an unplanned kiss the moment the cameras started flashing.
” He shook his head, eyes shuttering. “I would never have intentionally done that to you. I swear, I pushed her away the second it happened, but as you know, a picture is worth a thousand words.” I realized he still didn’t know how intimately I knew the truth of that statement, and my shoulders sagged with immediate understanding.
“I already bought out the news outlets. That photo is long gone.” He promised.
“I’m so, so sorry I let you believe it was anything more than that.
” He begged, “You’d already seen it, and I was desperate to keep you safe, so I let you believe what you wanted to.
Please say you believe me, if I lose you, I’m begging you, don’t let it be over something I had no control over, please. ” He was gasping, begging, panicked.
I believed him, yes, but that still didn’t change how insane this all was.
“Well, that might be true, but you can’t just ask me to marry you, Carter!
” I threw my hands up. “This is ridiculous. I mean, we’re like freaking trauma bonded now—or something.
” The urge to cry suddenly hit me again, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe as I raced for the door, desperate for a breath of fresh air.
I felt so hopeful and simultaneously terrified as I felt him come up behind me. “I don’t do divorce.” I announced as I turned, not entirely sure why I was confessing that.
His eyes sparked alive and hopeful as they danced between mine. “Me neither.”
“This is not how this is supposed to go.” I waved my hand through the balmy morning air. “You’re supposed to have a ring and get on your knees.” I laughed, wiping my eyes. “Come on, Prince Charming, this is a mess. Right?”
“I just crawled for you, and I’ll do it again with a diamond ring between my teeth if that’s what you want.” Victory gleamed in his eyes.
“That’s not what I mean—not to mention we’re in our pajamas.”
His smile was feline. “I could get naked if you prefer.”
I suppressed a smile.
He dropped to a knee in front of me, and my heart stalled out as the morning light painted his beautiful face in golden hues.
“Sarafina Amara Devereux.” He slid that thin pink hair tie off his wrist and looped it three times, making an elastic ring, and I started crying as he presented it to me with tears in his own eyes.
“Fact. You took a piece of my heart the day I laid eyes on you, and you’ve stolen the rest every day since then.
Truth. I know how lucky I am to be one of the few people you’ve let in, and whether you realize it or not—you’re the only one I’ve ever truly let in.
From here on out, no matter the cost, I won’t let anything or anyone stand in my way when it comes to my love for you—my devotion to you.
” He cleared his throat. “Sweetheart, love of my life, I dare you—to let me love you all the way to the altar and every day after.” He grinned, albeit nervously.
“Will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”
I wanted so desperately to say yes , a thousand times over.
I knew it was insane, but I also knew that maybe he was right, maybe we were inevitable.
So I did what I’d been slowly learning to do this past year.
I let myself have this moment, let myself choose the thing that made me happy, instead of forcing myself to suffer on some screwed up principle of the matter.
“Okay,” I whispered with a slow nod. “Let’s do it.”
A tear slipped down his cheek as he smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, letting him slip the pink hair tie onto my ring finger as I yanked his mouth up to mine.
“You better get me a rock so big you can see it from space! I want a freaking sparkle parade, mounted on my finger. Otherwise, no one will believe the city’s wealthiest bachelor is tied down to a brunette !
” I demanded on the verge of a sob or maybe laughter, I had no idea.
I was never going to let someone else attempt to take what was mine again, because that’s what Carter was. All mine.
We were already slamming into a tree when his lips crashed against mine, hands soft and shielding against all the impact. “I’m going to get you a ring so heavy you’re not going to be able to lift your arm.” He declared.
I laughed, and it quickly turned into a moan as his fingers worked the buttons down my pale pink pajamas and his lips followed the trail. He pushed me up against the rough bark of the tree as he sank to his knees in front of me, playfully begging. “Please, baby, let me have a taste of my wife .”
Oh boy, wife, that was the biggest turn-on I’d ever heard. “ Yes.” I moaned breathlessly, unable to find the strength to make him work for it as my fingers speared through his hair.
Fingers tugging at the strings, then hooking into the elastic of my pajama bottoms, he waited, like he always did, for that final word of permission.
I stared at him, heart thundering, and nodded in disbelief. “You’re going to be my husband .” That word might be an even bigger turn-on.
He grinned, yanking my pajamas down, “Hell yeah I am.” I gasped as he hiked my legs over his shoulders, and I held on for dear life—my pajama bottoms still dangling from one leg as he pinned me against the tree.
“Carter, your shoulder.” I warned with a gasp as his lips descended.
“I don’t care about my shoulder.” He practically spat, and there was no escape when his lips found my clit in two seconds flat.
I cried out, back writhing against the tree as his stubble scraped against me in just the right way.
He worked his tongue over and in me, bringing me right to the edge.
This wasn’t lovemaking; this was love declaring, and there was no time for teasing.
We’d done more than enough of that our entire lives.
He came up to steal a glance, grinning, lips shining, and then, “Oh shit, there’s ants in your hair.”
I laughed deliriously as he scooped me up and laid me out in the soft grass, dusting my hair off before sliding an arm under my waist, other fingers slipping inside me while his tongue brought me to orgasm mere seconds later.
As I chanted his name, “Carter, Carter, Carter.” The sound of my cries were swallowed by the rushing stream, the birds chirping in the air, the wind softly rustling through the trees as I trembled in the grass with pleasure.
His mouth was on mine as I shoved his pants down, reaching for his intimidating length. “Sweetheart,” He rasped, frustration lacing his voice. “I don’t have a condom.”
“I have an IUD,” I said, frantically kicking his sweats down .