15. Carmen
15
Carmen
I don’t know what came over me. My body isn’t listening to my brain’s frantic commands to move. We’re tangled on the floor, his body hard against mine, and I can’t bring myself to pull away. And now? Now I’m drowning in the sensation.
Donny is looking at me as though he’s trying to figure out what’s running through my head, but I highly doubt he’s ever going to figure it out — I can’t figure it out myself.
Everything was fine—we were heading into the bedroom, and I just had to make a mess over something as trivial as shoes. I couldn’t decide what to wear, so I kicked off pair after pair, scattering the rejects without a second thought. Now they’ve come back to haunt me.
The moment we hit the floor, I should’ve put as much distance as possible between us.Instead, I thought kissing him would be the best thing to do.
Now my head is spinning and his length is brushing against my thighs, inviting me to do more, and I’m desperately trying to rein in at least some semblance of control.
It’s bad enough I kissed him already.
Donny’s gaze is hot on mine as he looks at me and I start to lift my leg from his lap, only for his hold on my waist to get tighter.
“You started this,” he whispers.
He trails his searing gaze over my frame, stopping at my breasts that are nearly exploding out of my dress, and he groans before shutting his eyes.
“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go.”
He’s giving me an out, I realize that, so why the hell am I not moving away from him? There’s something about being in this position, having all the control right now, that has my belly dipping with desire.
Instead of moving like I know I should, I reach out and run my hand over his covered chest. Electricity crackles between us. Donny’s breath hitches, and I feel a surge of power. I’m playing with fire, but I don’t care—I want to feel the burn.
I can feel the defined muscles beneath it, which doesn’t surprise me, and I dart my tongue out over my lip at the thought of tracing them. He lets out a ragged breath, somehow sensing what I’m thinking about, and looks into my eyes as if to tell me silently to do whatever I want.
This isn’t just my control—it’s mine to take.
A thrill buzzes through me, fueled by the wine still humming in my veins, as I grind my hips against him, feeling his length harden beneath my thigh. My hands slide under his white tee, savoring the warmth of his skin against my fingertips. When he told me to dress for the occasion, I didn’t waste any time dolling myself up. I thought for sure he would be wearing a suit, or something just as nice.
Nothing quite beats the jeans and t-shirt look, though, so I can’t be too upset that I went overboard on my attire.
Donny’s breath hitches as my hands roam over his abs, every muscle rippling under my touch. I trace my fingernail along the contours of his hard body, feeling the raw power beneath my fingertips. His skin is warm, alive, and the thrill of this moment—of what’s about to happen—sends a shiver down my spine.
Before I can second-guess myself, I slowly ease his shirt off and toss it aside. The sight of him—shirtless, his tattoos stark against his skin—makes my breath catch. I’ve seen him a thousand times, but never like this. Never like someone I could touch, claim.
Except... Oh, how I’ve noticed him. I just never allowed myself to indulge in the thought.
But now, with him right in front of me, his heat mixing with mine, I lean in. I press my lips to the side of his neck, leaving a trail of soft, teasing kisses down to his chest. The heady scent of him surrounds me as I kiss lower, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths. My hips grind against the front of his jeans, creating a delicious friction that makes me dizzy with want. I’m about to slip my hand beneath the waistband, desperate to touch him, but he catches my wrist, halting me.
I gasp as he pulls me flush against his chest, his strength catching me off guard, and before I can react, he lifts me effortlessly and lays me on the bed. The air feels electric, every nerve in my body alive and buzzing as I look up at him. His eyes blaze with intensity, and he shakes his head, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Ladies first, Sunshine,” he growls, his voice rough and commanding, and I feel the weight of his words deep inside me.
I shudder. There’s no mistaking it now—he’s in control. And I realize... I want that. I want to give in, to feel what it’s like to be undone by him.
“Spread your legs for me,” he rasps into the dim room, his voice thick with need.
Before I can process what’s happening, my dress slips away, and my body responds to him on instinct—legs parting, inviting him closer. The cool air brushes against my core, but all I can focus on is the way his eyes darken as they rake over me, hungry, possessive. Slowly, his hands glide over my thighs, his touch sending waves of heat through me, making me ache for more. Every stroke of his fingers feels like a promise, and I tremble under his gaze.
“So pretty,” Donny murmurs, his voice reverent as he pushes aside my panties, revealing all of me to him. His eyes lock on my center, and the sheer awe in his expression makes my heart race.
Oh God, help me.
He palms himself through his jeans, clearly trying to restrain his own need, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. His gaze makes me feel both powerful and vulnerable, like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen. And it makes me crave him even more.
“Tell me what you need, Sunshine.”
“Touch me,” I whisper, my voice barely recognizable, trembling with desire. “Please.”
“All you had to do was ask,” he says with a soft chuckle, before finally giving me what I’ve been desperate for.
His fingers slip through my slick heat, and I let out a soft moan, my hips instinctively rising to meet his hand.
The world shrinks down to this—his fingers sliding through my heat, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from me with maddening precision. One hand keeps me pinned to the bed, a silent promise that I’m his to unravel, while the other works me mercilessly. His thumb circles my clit with devastating precision, the pressure perfect, deliberate, driving me wild.
My breath stutters out in broken gasps as his lips trail down my neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake. He moves like he’s memorized every inch of me, like my body has always been his to command. His mouth grazes my collarbone, then dips lower, brushing soft kisses along the curve of my breast, and my hips arch involuntarily, begging for more.
The pleasure is relentless, the build-up unbearable, like I’m a breath away from shattering into pieces. And God, I want him to break me. His fingers moving in rhythm with his lips as they glide across my skin, coaxing every gasp and shiver out of me until I can barely hold on.
“Let go for me,” Donny whispers, his voice dark and velvety, sliding over me like a promise. “Don’t fight it, Carmen. Just feel me. Let me take you there.”
A protest rises to my lips—some last-ditch effort to cling to logic, to remind me how reckless this is, how dangerous it feels to give in. But his words unravel me, his touch ignites something primal, and the pull of him is too strong to resist.
And then it hits—pleasure surging through me, raw and overwhelming. My body seizes, back arching off the bed as the orgasm tears through me. I cry out his name, nails digging into his skin as I cling to him, desperate to anchor myself in the storm.
The world slips away, leaving only us—his name on my lips, his hands on my body, and the shuddering waves of pleasure that seem endless. It’s not just release; it’s surrender. And God, I want more.
“That’s it,” he growls, his fingers still working me through the aftershocks, dragging out every last bit of pleasure. “God, you’re incredible.”
My body slowly relaxes, every limb going limp, and I feel like I’m floating. Donny starts to move away from me carefully, like I’m a piece of glass, but I reach out through my haze and wrap my fingers around his arm to stop him. He’s likely coming down from his own high, thinking I’m going to push him away before things go too far, but he’s got it all wrong.
I’ve never craved anything as much as I do him.
“I need more,” I whisper.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough, but there’s something tender in the way he asks, giving me one last chance to back out.
My eyes flutter open just in time to see him, his jeans now discarded, his thick length bobbing in front of me. The air between us is charged, heavy with anticipation. He strokes himself slowly, eyes locked on mine, and the look on his face is pure hunger—like he’s been waiting for this moment as long as I have.
I don’t hesitate. “Yes,” I whisper, my voice shaking with need. “I want you.”
That’s all it takes. With a flick of his wrist, he pulls a foil package from his jeans, his movements deliberate as he drops to his knees before me. My breath catches when his hands cradle my face, his lips hovering dangerously close to mine. The promise in his gaze sets my pulse racing, making it impossible to think straight.
His hands glide down my thighs, spreading me wide, and just as my heart pounds in anticipation, I feel the heat of him—thick and ready—teasing at my entrance. The head of his cock brushes against me, and I tremble, my hips lifting on instinct, silently pleading for more.
His chest presses flush against mine, skin to skin, as he leans over me, lining himself up. The slow drag of him pushing inside, filling me inch by agonizing inch, stretching me in the most delicious way. I arch beneath him, desperate to take more, and with a slow, relentless push, he fills me completely.
A strangled moan escapes me, and he stills, giving me a moment to adjust. The weight of him, the heat, the way he’s buried so deep—it’s overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and need that leaves me breathless. My nails bite into his back, pulling him even closer, craving the friction, the connection, the fire only he can ignite.
“Fuck, Carmen,” he rasps against my ear, his voice rough and full of restraint. “You’re so wet and tight for me.” I shiver at the sound, the intimacy of his words making my skin burn. And when he shifts slightly, giving the tiniest thrust, my body answers in kind—arching, begging for more, unable to get enough.
A whimper escapes me, my body trembling beneath him, and it’s all the invitation Donny needs. He pulls back slowly, teasing me with the loss, only to thrust back in—deeper, harder. The pleasure is instant and all-consuming, exploding through me like a fire that spreads to every nerve. My hips move instinctively, meeting his with a desperate need for more.
A low groan rumbles from his chest, the sound vibrating through me as he picks up the pace, driving deeper and harder with every thrust. The slick sound of our bodies meeting fills the room, mingling with our ragged breaths, wild and untamed. Each thrust sends me hurtling closer to the edge, the tension inside me coiling tighter, threatening to snap.
“Donny…” His name slips from my lips, a plea wrapped in a moan as my head falls back into the pillows, surrendering fully to him.
While thrusting, his hand slides between us, finding my clit with maddening precision. The second his fingers circle the sensitive spot, I shatter. My body clenches around him, the orgasm crashing into me with devastating force. I cry out, nails raking down his back as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me, leaving me gasping for air.
But Donny isn’t finished—not even close. He keeps moving, relentless in his pursuit of pleasure, his cock driving into me with a rhythm that steals what little control I have left. I can feel him unraveling, each thrust growing rougher, more desperate.
He groans, his breath hot against my skin as his rhythm falters. His hips slam into me one final time, burying himself deep with a low growl as his release overtakes him. The heat of him pulses inside me, and I can feel every tremor of his climax, each shudder pushing me further into bliss.
Donny collapses against me, his breath ragged, the weight of him grounding me as we ride out the aftershocks together—connected, spent, and completely lost in the moment.
As the high fades, reality comes crashing back in.
What the hell have I done?
His lips find mine in a soft, lingering kiss—tender, almost reverent. It feels too intimate, too real. My heart clenches, tangled in emotions I’m not ready to face.
Before I can say anything, Donny shifts, pressing one last kiss to my temple before sliding off the bed. Then, without a word, he stands and walks to the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The room is suddenly too quiet. My heart pounds in my chest, my mind racing with the implications. This isn’t just physical— it’s changed something. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if I even want to.
But as I lie here, still tingling from his touch, my body sated, one truth refuses to leave my mind.
It was worth it. Every single second. God help me... I’d do it again.
***
When I wake the next morning, sunlight pours through the window, far too cheerful for the storm raging inside me.
I lie still for a moment, acutely aware of Donny's warmth beside me. Last night replays in my mind - not just the physical passion, but the moments of tenderness, the way his eyes held mine, full of wonder and something deeper. It was a connection that shook me to my core.
Carefully, I turn to look at him. In sleep, his face is relaxed, vulnerable. I'm struck by how young he looks, reminding me of the stories he's shared about his childhood. Growing up as an only child, finding solace in music, his grandmother being his biggest supporter. I remember the night he told me about her buying his first drum kit, the way his eyes lit up at the memory.
"She always believed in me," he'd said, "even when no one else did."
Looking at him now, I wonder what she'd think of us, of this complicated tangle we've woven. Would she see past the fake engagement, recognize the real feelings growing between us?
My chest tightens with an emotion I'm not ready to name. This isn't just about physical attraction anymore. It's about the Donny who inspires me to live in the moment, who remembers how I take my coffee, who looks at me like I'm the only person in the room even when we're surrounded by crowds.
But with this realization comes fear. Last night we crossed a line, and there's no going back.
I slip out of bed, needing space to clear my head. As I dress, I can't help but glance back at Donny. For a moment, I'm tempted to wake him, to talk this through. But the weight of what's happened, of what it might mean, is too much to face right now.
So I do what I've always done when things get complicated. I run.
A knot tightens in my chest, and I let out a long, shaky breath, hoping that fresh air will help clear my head. I slip into a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, trying to shake off the lingering warmth from the bed—and from him.
Damn it. I drag my eyes away and force myself to focus. I need space. I need to get out of this cabin before my thoughts spiral any further.
I take a deep breath when I come to a stop in front of the door, then I reach forward and turn the knob slowly. It’s only when I get the door open, the fresh air pouring in through the opening, that I finally let the breath I was holding out and hurry to put boots on.
There’s still snow on the ground, but it’s not as bad as it was the other day when we first got snowed in thanks to the sun that wasn’t supposed to be there.
Maybe someone’s looking out for me after all and realized I needed the escape.
I’m so lost in my head that I don’t realize someone has joined me outside until they clear their throat. When I look over, Walker is standing at the bottom of the cabin steps and frowning at me.
“Someone looks like they woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he mutters, then takes a tentative step toward me. “Mind if I join you?”
“Kids asleep, I assume?”
He nods, his attention being pulled toward the closed door. “I won’t be going far. They should be okay.”
That’s a fancy way of saying that even though Jessa is inside, perfectly capable of fulfilling her motherly duties, Walker is still the one who has to worry about doing so. I still don’t quite understand what he sees in her, but it’s not my place to judge if he’s happy in his relationship.
We walk in silence for a few minutes, then he clears his throat. “So, you want to tell me why everyone is just now meeting Donny?”
I glance at him, alarmed, and arch a brow. “What do you mean? I already explained this.”
He scoffs. “You think I’m going to believe that bullshit? Carmen, I’ve known you all my life and you never would’ve kept a relationship like this away from mom.”
There’s a pang in my chest at his words because he’s not wrong. I would’ve told our mom about Donny as soon as the relationship happened. I can’t admit that to him, though.
“You want to tell me what’s been going on with you?” I ask, knowing it’s not something he’ll be willing to talk about.
“You’re right,” he mutters, “your relationship is none of my business.”
“He’s here now, meeting everyone. That’s all that matters… right?”
“I suppose you’re right.”
We stop a few cabins away, and Walker turns me to face him, his expression serious. “Do you really think working as a band manager is going to get you somewhere in life, Carmen?”
I bite back a sigh. Great. I thought we might dodge this conversation for once. Crossing my arms, I narrow my eyes at him. “I love my job, Walker.”
He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a heavy sigh. “I know you do. I just don’t want you to regret the choices you’ve made. And honestly, isn’t it wrong to be engaged to one of your clients?”
“We’ve got it handled,” I mutter, glancing toward Layla’s cabin. “I’m going to check on her. I’ll see you later.”
Without waiting for more of his unsolicited judgment, I spin on my heel and head toward my sister’s cabin.
But Walker’s words stick, gnawing at me. The worst part? He’s not entirely wrong. Donny and the band don’t care about our arrangement, but I always took pride in keeping my professional boundaries intact.
And now?
Those boundaries are nothing but ashes.
As I approach Layla’s cabin, the door to ours swings open. Donny steps out, his gaze locking onto mine with a quiet intensity that sends a flutter through my chest. Even with the distance between us, the memory of last night hums in the air, as real and undeniable as the pull drawing me toward him.
There’s no running from this—not anymore. And, if I’m being honest with myself... I’m not sure I want to.