Chapter 16 #2
I grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer to me.
His mouth meets mine, and the kiss tastes like beer and peppermints.
Under the blanket, we’re invisible. A groan comes out of me, and he smiles against my lips.
He doesn’t tease me any longer. Two fingers push inside me, and his thumb presses against my clit with the exact pressure he’s learned I like.
My head drops against his shoulder. The blanket shifts around us, and the fire pops.
“I’ve fantasized about this. On the beach. Just like this,” I say against his skin.
“Yeah?” His voice is low against my ear, and he curls his fingers.
My hips jerk forward as the slow build begins.
“Mm,” I say, and it’s barely audible.
He picks up the pace, and I bite down on my fist. The waves drown out most of my whimpers.
I lift my head, and his eyes find mine. The orgasm takes me under. My thighs clamp around his hand, and my body shakes while pleasure rolls over me.
“That was … incredible.”
He captures my lips, then pulls his fingers from inside of me and places them in his mouth. His eyes close as he licks them clean. “You taste so fucking good. What else is on your naughty list?”
He’s not joking.
“Okay. Some of them are kinda impossible.”
“Like?” he asks.
“I want to have sex in the Louvre.”
A grin spreads across his lips. “Okay. And?”
“A hot air balloon,” I tell him. “And on a plane. I’d like to join the Mile-High Club before I die.”
He’s staring at me.
“What? You think it’s stupid, don’t you?”
Carter shakes his head. “I think I want to make your dreams come true.”
I playfully roll my eyes. “You sound like a Disney prince, Carter.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Anything else?”
“Sex in a tent.” I shrug.
He pulls me closer. “All of that. Consider it done.”
“You can’t promise that. The Louvre, Carter. Get real.”
“Okay.” He’s way too cocky for his own good, and it’s contagious. “I find this reaction cute. Now, when we arrive, what will you wear?” he asks, twirling a piece of my hair in his finger.
“Something sexy. Easy access,” I say, imagining it.
“So, what defines sex? I need to know the rules of your fantasies.”
“If I come, it counts.” I cross my legs.
He stands and pulls me up with him. Before we walk away, I pull the envelopes from my back pocket. Carter glances down at them as I toss them onto the fire.
“They haven’t stopped harassing you?” he asks.
“No,” I tell him. “I don’t think they will.”
We watch the pages turn to ash, and then I dump a bucket of water on top of it to put it out.
His pinkie brushes against mine as we walk back. We keep our distance until we’re on the second flight of stairs. Carter’s hand finds my waist, and he pins me against the wall.
“Shh,” I tell him, leading him up to his room.
The door shuts behind him, and then I step forward to undress him without hesitation. He walks me backward until he’s on top of me, and then he’s inside me. His fingers lace through mine, pinning my hands to the pillow. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he goes deeper, breathing heavily.
“I’m falling for you, Wendy,” he says against the shell of my ear.
“Carter.”
“Is it just me?” he asks as my body winds tight.
“No,” I confess.
He picks up his pace, and I arch up into him. The orgasm nearly rips me to shreds. My mouth opens, and my eyes squeeze shut.
He groans into my ear and lets go, spilling inside me. His lips slide across mine and down to my jaw.
We hold each other.
“I—” he says.
“You—” I say at the same time. “Go ahead.”
“No, it’s okay,” he says.
I roll onto my side, watching him. “Don’t get weird.”
“You’re the one acting strange,” he says.
“No, I’m not,” I tell him, reaching over and running my fingers through his hair. “But we can’t do this, Carter.”
“Then stop,” he says, smirking, tucking his arm under his head.
His bicep flexes, and I see the veins in his arms. Part of me wants to lick every single one.
“You stop.” I turn it right back on him.
He laughs. “I can’t. I’m fucking addicted to you.”
“I’m not leaving Coconut Beach. And you’re not leaving New York. That’s a problem.”
“I don’t want to discuss this.”
He pulls me against his chest, and his arm wraps across my waist. My face fits against his neck, and his heartbeat is steady. I should leave, set the boundary, sleep in my bed. Instead, I hold him tighter and close my eyes.
Sunlight hits my face, and the weight across my stomach is Carter’s arm. I didn’t leave. Shit.
I slide out from under his arm and reach for my phone. Just after six. Not late.
“Come back,” he whispers, lifting his arm, and I do without hesitation.
His breathing is steady against the back of my neck as he pulls my ass against his hard cock. His hand trails down my stomach, and his fingers spread me wide. My back arches, and he slides inside me from behind.
“Yes, yes,” I whisper, wishing I could wake up like this every damn day.
His grip tightens on my hip, and he fucks me like I belong to him. This morning, he’s possessive. His teeth nibble at the back of my neck. I grab the comforter to brace myself, moaning into the pillow.
“Harder,” I tell him because I want to feel where he’s been for the rest of the day.
His hand fists in my hair and pulls my head back while he drives into me. His free hand grips my breast, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers. I gasp and push back into him, meeting every inch.
“You’re mine, Wendy.” His voice is rough against my ear. “This pretty little pussy is mine.”
“Yes, Carter. Yes, yes.”
He pulls out and flips me onto my stomach. Before I can breathe, he’s inside me again, deeper at this angle, as he grabs my ass. My face presses into the pillow. He fucks me like he’s trying to ruin me for anyone who comes after him. He already has.
I move onto my elbows, and the new angle makes my vision blur. He stays there, relentless. His hand moves from my neck to my hip, and he grips me hard.
“Don’t stop.” The warmth builds from deep inside. “Please don’t stop,” I nearly cry out.
My knees shake. His thumb presses against my ass, and the new pressure makes me cry out louder than I should.
“Damn,” I groan.
The combination of his cock filling me and having his thumb pressed against my tight hole is too much. Then he gives me a little more. I clench around him so hard that he groans.
“Look at you,” he says, and his voice is wrecked. “Taking my cock like a good girl.”
The orgasm rips through me, and I bury my face into the mattress. My body seizes up and shakes while he keeps going, fucking me through it without slowing down. The overstimulation takes hold, but I don’t tell him to stop. I want everything he’ll give me.
He leans over my back, and his mouth finds my shoulder. He bites down, not gentle, and the pain mixes with the aftershocks still pulsing through me. His thrusts get shorter, and his breathing grows ragged against my skin. He groans as he comes, buried so deep that I can feel him pulse inside me.
We collapse, and he holds me from behind. When I’m with him like this, I’m safe.
“I think I need a sheet change,” he whispers in my ear. “You squirted all over my cock, sweetheart.”
I roll over and see the wet spot. “It’s never felt like that before. It was … intense.”
A grin slides across his face. “I’m so happy we get to experience some firsts together.”
“I’m going to feel you all day,” I whisper.
“Good.” He pulls me against him.
We lie there, catching our breath while the morning light fills the room.
“I should go.”
He tightens his arm around me instead of answering, pressing kisses across my face and neck.
I laugh, wiggling away from him. “You’re precious. I’ll see you tonight.”
I don’t think I’ve ever woken up feeling this happy.
His thumb moves against my cheek, and he opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but doesn’t. “Have a great day.”
“You too.” I slide out of bed and get dressed.
Every person who checks out is different than when they checked in.
I never thought my life would look like this—with a man who reads romance novels, stays at my family’s B&B, and fucks me like I’m the only woman who’s ever mattered in his life.
And in a little over a month, he’ll be gone, and I’ll be here, trying to forget he ever existed. I know that, and I’m still stubbornly choosing him.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing at all,” I tell him with a smile.
He doesn’t buy it, but doesn’t push. At the door, I look back at him. He’s propped on his elbow with the sheets low on his waist.
“I’ll see you at breakfast,” I tell him and blow a kiss.
“I’ll be the one staring,” he says, catching it.
I take the stairs to my room and close the door. I was stupid to think I could do this.