20. Carter
20
Carter
I am losing my fucking mind.
I can still feel the weight of her words pressing into my chest, into my stomach, into my dick that is already so fucking hard it hurts.
I don’t even know how to respond to that, don’t even know what the fuck I’m supposed to do with myself now that she’s said it, now that she’s looking at me like she’s already made up her mind, like this is happening and I have absolutely no say in the matter.
And God help me, I don’t want to stop her. My fingers twitch against her thighs, before I can even think about stopping her, before I can even figure out how to wrap my head around what’s about to happen…
Her hands are at my waistband, slow and sure, her fingers hooking into the elastic, dragging my boxers down with the same teasing pace that is actively wrecking me from the inside out.
I can’t stop it. I can’t stop the way my breath hitches, the way my thighs tense, the way my fingers clench against the couch, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart.
My cock is free. It thuds against my stomach, heavy, thick, already leaking at the tip, and my entire body goes stiff.
Oh fuck. Fuck—
My face burns, heat crawling up my throat, my ears, my cheeks, because I already know.
I’m big. I loved the way she said it.
I go to cover myself, to do something, anything, to stop the way she’s looking at me like she just won some kind of prize, but before I can, she’s there. Her hands wrap around the base of my cock, her fingers barely able to close around me, and I swear to god, I almost black out right then and there.
“Jesus, Carter.”
Her voice is pure appreciation, her eyes follow up to mine, studying my reaction, and I know she’s about to make this even worse for me.
Her tongue finds me. I make a sound I’ve never heard before, something between a groan and a curse, my whole body jerking at the warmth of her mouth, the soft drag of her tongue, the way she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t hold back, doesn’t give me even a second to brace myself. “Fuck—Haven—”
I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do. My hands are gripping the couch like I’m afraid to touch her, my breath coming out in harsh, broken gasps, my legs shaking under her weight. Where do I put my hands? Do I watch? Do I close my eyes? Do I fucking pray? What if I come too fast? What if I say something dumb? What if she stops?
Haven picks up on every single one of my hesitations. Her hand tightens around the base of me, her tongue licking over the tip, and then she hums. Low and deliberate, sending vibrations straight through my cock, straight into my spine, straight into the part of my brain that is actively melting down.
And then, voice soft, teasing, wrecking me even further, she pulls off just enough to say “You can touch me, you know.”
I suck in a sharp breath, my hands still clenched at my sides because I don’t trust myself. “You can make noises too, Carter.”
She drags her tongue along, slow, savoring, like she wants me to lose it, like she’s waiting for it. Then, just before she takes me back into her mouth, she adds, “In fact, I want you to.” That is the moment I completely fucking fall apart. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for the heat of her mouth, the slow, deliberate way she moves, the way she’s unraveling me one second at a time like she’s been waiting for this, like she already knows exactly how to destroy me.
And I definitely wasn’t ready for her to tell me, so fucking sweet, so devastatingly certain, that she wants to hear me.
I let out a whimper, my fingers twitching at my sides like I’m still debating if I’m allowed to touch her, like I still have even an ounce of control left. “Mm, f-f-uck, h-haven…”
She’s taking her time, dragging her tongue along, teasing, tormenting, using her mouth and her hands to make sure I feel every single thing that she’s doing to me. I do, fuck, I do. The tension in my spine pulls so tight I can barely breathe, my thighs trembling beneath her, my hands flexing like I’m fighting against something inevitable.
She pulls off, her lips glossy, her breath warm against my skin as she looks up at me through thick lashes, her fingers stroking slow, steady, keeping me on the edge, keeping me suffering. “Carter.”
I can barely focus, barely keep my eyes open, barely do anything but whimper when she says my name like that. She tilts her head, watching me, waiting. Then, soft but commanding, wrecking, completely taking me apart… she says, “Touch me.”
I suck in a breath, my entire body tensing, because I know she means it. She’s done letting me hold back. Shaky, hesitant, I reach for her, sliding my fingers into her hair, letting myself feel the softness, the way she leans into my touch like she’s been waiting for it. She hums, pleased, dragging her tongue over me again, making my grip tighten, making my breath come out ragged.
And then she moans around me. I whimper again softly, my hips jerking, my entire body tightening so fast I barely manage to stay in control, and I know I’m so fucking close. I don’t want it to end. I don’t want her to stop. I don’t want this moment, this feeling, this complete and total unraveling, to ever fucking end.
“Please don’t stop. P-p-please, I’ll do anything.”
I mean it.
I’d give her anything.
My body. My breath. My fucking soul . Haven’s mouth is still on me, hot and wet and perfect, her tongue dragging over every inch of me, her hands teasing, working me, wrecking me.
I can barely breathe. I can barely think. Everything is tight, pressure building so fast I already know I won’t last much longer.
She fucking knows it. She’s humming around me, making these little pleased, satisfied sounds like she’s enjoying this just as much as I am, like she’s soaking up every single way my body is reacting to her.
And I can’t take it anymore. I reach down, gripping her wrist, pulling slightly, trying to get her attention, trying to find my voice even though it’s coming out completely weak.
“Haven, stop—I’m—fu”
She pulls off, her lips swollen, her breath warm as she looks up at me, her fingers still wrapped around me, stroking slow, teasing. “You don’t like it?” she asks, tilting her head, voice smooth, sultry, completely aware of how fucking gone I am for her.
I groan, my head tipping back against the couch, my hands tightening in her hair before I force myself to meet her gaze again. “I love it,” I say, voice hoarse, barely holding together.
Her lips curl, like she already knew that. “Then why stop?”
I suck in a breath, my pulse still pounding, my body still shaking from everything she just did to me. And then, before I can overthink it, before I can hesitate, before I can let any insecurity creep in, I say it. “Because I want to taste you.”
Haven stills. Her breath catches, her fingers flexing against my thigh, her entire body tensing like she wasn’t expecting that.
But I meant it. I need it. I want to feel her come apart for me. I want to hear the way she sounds when she’s lost in it. I want to know what she tastes like. I reach for her, pulling her closer, dragging my hands down her thighs, gripping them tight. “I’ve never done it before.”
Her lips part, her brows lifting just slightly, her breath unsteady now, like she’s the one who’s been thrown off balance. “But I need to.”
My voice is low, desperate, hungry. “Please, Haven. Let me.”
Haven doesn’t hesitate. She grabs my wrist, pulls me toward her, shifts so she’s lying back against the couch, and fuck, this is happening.
I’m about to do this. And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. But she’s not letting me think about that. Her fingers thread into my hair, guiding me, tilting my chin, coaxing me down between her thighs, and I let her.
I follow. Because I meant it. I need to know what she tastes like, how she moves, how she falls apart beneath my mouth. So I listen. I let her show me.
She spreads her legs for me, pulling me in, guiding my lips to where she wants them, her breath already catching before I even touch her.
I start slow, hesitant, tracing my tongue over her, just a test, just a taste, just enough to feel the way she trembles beneath me.
Jesus Christ. She’s so soft, so wet, so fucking perfect on my tongue. “Fuck, you taste—God, you taste so good. I didn’t know…”
I didn’t know it could feel like this.
Like reverence. Like addiction. Like I’d stay down here forever if she let me. And I would.
When I groan against her, the sound vibrating against her skin, she makes a noise that shoots straight through my chest, down my spine, tightening everything inside me.
“Fuck, Carter… just like that.”
Her fingers tighten in my hair, tugging, pulling me closer, and I don’t stop, I don’t hesitate, I just keep going, keep learning her, keep testing, keep finding out exactly how to make her fall apart for me. “Tell me if I’m doing it right. Please. I want to make you feel everything.”
The words are a broken mess when they come out of me, full of too much emotion and not enough breath. But I mean them. I’d stay down here all night if it meant hearing another one of her gasps. I want to know her body the way she clearly already knows mine.
She moans—loud, her back arches, her thighs start to tremble, and it does something to me. Something unholy.
Fuck, I can’t get enough.
So I go deeper. Flattening my tongue against her, licking her slower now, dragging the pressure just right. Every time she gasps or squirms, I chase the sound like a reward.
She jerks beneath me, hips shifting, and I swear to god—my cock aches so hard it’s actually painful. My whole body is shaking from how badly I want her to come. Just from me. Just from my mouth.
And then she guides me further. “Use your fingers Carter.”
I groan at the sound of that, at the fucking way she says my name, at the way she sounds so completely ruined just from my mouth. But I listen. I slide my hand up, press my index finger against her, let them slip inside. “You’re so warm—fuck, Haven, you’re so wet.”
Haven moans, her head tipping back, her breath punching out of her lungs. I curl my finger inside her, stroking deep, dragging my tongue against her at the same time, learning how to match the rhythm, how to feel the way she clenches around me, how to keep her teetering right on the edge.
Her body is shaking, her thighs squeezing, her hands gripping my hair like she’s trying to ground herself, and I don’t stop. I can’t stop, I want her to break for me, need her to break for me. And as I listen to her sounds, as I learn the exact way she likes to be touched, I am so fucking lost in her. “I want to make you feel good. I want to get it right baby.”
I mean it with everything I have, this isn’t just about doing it right.
It’s about making her fall apart in my hands.
And I swear to god—I’ll spend the rest of my life learning how to do that.
Everything else, the room, the world, reality itself doesn’t exist anymore. It’s just Haven. The way she’s moaning for me, her body trembling, her fingers gripping my hair like she never wants me to stop, the way she’s falling apart against my tongue, the way she’s letting me learn her, ruin her, worship her.
Right when I think I finally know what I’m doing, when I think I’ve got her exactly where she needs to be, right when I know she’s about to come— She says it. “Carter… fuck me.”
I freeze. Like, full stop, body locked, brain short-circuiting, lungs refusing to work, heart slamming against my ribs, every single part of me absolutely malfunctioning. I don’t move. I don’t breathe… what? What…?
My entire body goes tight, my fingers still buried inside her, my mouth still pressed against her, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
I should say something. Do anything that doesn’t make me look like I’ve blue-screened. But my brain’s offline. How the hell am I supposed to resist Haven like this, when she’s saying the one thing I’ve fantasized about more nights than I’ll ever admit?
I can’t. God, I can’t.
But the thing is… I don’t know if I can actually do this. Not the way she deserves. Not without completely embarrassing myself. What if I’m too fast? What if I fuck it up? I don’t know if I’ll even last long enough to figure out how to do it right.
My breath is heavy, uneven, my pulse so loud I swear she can hear it. I don’t move, but Haven does.
Her fingers press into my shoulders, anchoring me like she already knows I’m seconds from spinning out.
And right then, in the exact moment I should say something, do something—I freeze.
Again. Because how the hell am I supposed to say no to her?
To this? To the girl I’ve wanted since the second I heard her laugh through a headset?
How am I supposed to be the one who stops this when every single part of me is screaming to let it happen?
I don’t know how to be anything but the guy who’s wanted her for months and has no idea what the hell he’s doing now that he finally gets to have her.
So I just sit there.
All I can do is look at her and think—please don’t change your mind. Please don’t stop. Please don’t let this be the moment you realize I’m not enough.