Chapter 27 - Karter #3
Aleksey sat up and slipped out of me. But I didn’t have time to mourn the loss of his dick in my ass before he gripped my waist and rolled us over so that I landed on my back, twisted slightly onto my side.
Hooking my left leg high over his shoulder, he reached down and wrapped his hand around his cock, which was still slick and hard.
The head of his dick pressed against my tight hole, catching on the rim in a way that made me whimper, before he then drove forward.
One long, slow thrust sank him back inside me to the hilt, the new angle hitting so deep I choked on a groan.
He drove into me harder now, slamming the bed against the wall with every thrust. I reached up and grabbed the bed slats, holding on as he pounded into me, hitting that spot inside me over and over until I was moaning with every stroke.
But then his weight shifted. The hand he had braced beside my shoulder lifted. I watched it travel down my chest, fingers dragging over my ribs and across my stomach, leaving a slick trail of my own sweat. Then his palm wrapped around my cock and my hips bucked up into his grip.
The lube was still slick on his fingers, the same lube he’d worked inside me earlier, and now it coated my cock with every stroke of his hand.
His fist pumped in time with his own thrusts, tight and fast, and the dual rhythm of him buried deep inside me while his hand worked my shaft sent sharp sparks straight up my spine.
“Say it again.” His hips snapped forward hard, the headboard cracking against the wall.
“Yours,” I gasped, my eyes now fixed on my clenched fingers locked around the bed slats above me. “I’m all yours.”
The headboard slammed again. And again. The cheap wood rattled against the wall with every drive of his hips, a steady rhythm that matched the pulse hammering in my throat.
“Look at me.”
I dragged my gaze down from the headboard and locked onto his face. Sweat dripped from Aleksey’s brow. His dark eyes were blown wide, fixed on me like I was the only thing in the world worth seeing.
“Just like that,” Aleksey growled. “Keep your eyes on me. Let go.”
A whimper broke from my throat. I couldn’t look away. He was buried so deep inside me, hitting that spot with every stroke, and his fist was wrapped around my cock, and his eyes were holding me in place like a hand around my throat.
It was all too much. The pressure snapped.
My orgasm tore through me, hot and violent, my cum shooting over his hand in thick ropes. I cried out, my spine arching off the bed while he kept fucking me through every tremor.
But his pace didn’t slow.
Aleksey kept driving into me as I shuddered through the last shivers of my orgasm.
Lifting his hand from my spent cock, his hand coated in my cum, he brought his fingers to his mouth.
Still buried inside me, still grinding deep, he sucked each one clean, his tongue lapping between his knuckles, and the sound he made was filthy.
“You taste so sweet.”
His eyes never left mine. My stomach bottomed out.
Then his jaw tightened. His rhythm stuttered hard, hips slamming forward once, twice more, before shoving himself to the hilt and holding there.
A long groan ripped out of him as his cock jerked and spasmed deep inside. I gazed at his face: brows drawn tight, mouth slack, his whole body trembling with the force of his orgasm.
“I love you, Karter,” he rasped.
“I love you too,” I whispered back as he stayed over me, breathing hard, still buried deep inside.
Then he pulled out, eased my leg down carefully, and we collapsed together onto the mess of tangled sheets.
For a long moment there was nothing but the sound of us gasping for air. The cheap hotel sheets were twisted around our legs, damp with sweat, and the lamp on the nightstand threw a dull yellow glow across the ceiling. I lolled my head to the side.
Aleksey lay beside me, eyes half-closed, one hand resting on his chest. The bruise on his jaw had darkened to a deep plum. He looked sated and completely unguarded, the way he only ever looked when it was just us.
I reached over and traced the white scar along his jaw with one finger.
“Do you remember a few months ago, back in the attic?” I asked.
His eyes opened, dark and heavy-lidded. “When exactly?”
“The first night. I had my door locked, and you were standing on the other side telling me locks don’t last in that house.”
A rough laugh scraped out of him. “I bet you were scared shitless.”
“I was.” My finger trailed down to his chin. “But when you finally walked away, I just sat there on my bed and waited. I think I might have, kinda, wanted you to come back.”
His brow shifted, something flickering behind the exhaustion. “I didn’t know that.”
“We didn’t know a lot of things back then.” I let my hand drop to his chest, palm flat over his heartbeat. “I thought you were just some psycho who wanted to make my life hell.”
“You probably weren’t that far wrong back then.”
“No. But I was wrong about the rest of it.” I traced a slow circle over his firm abs. “I thought I’d hate you the whole season. That you’d make me miserable, and I’d just survive it. Now I’m here.”
Aleksey caught my wrist, grinning as he brought it to his lips and kissed it.