Chapter Twenty-One #2
My cheeks warmed. “She sounds pretty great.”
“Oh, she is. And the craziest part? She seems to like me back, grumpiness and all.”
“Maybe she sees past the grumpy exterior to the marshmallow underneath.”
“Marshmallow? I'll have you know I'm very tough and manly.”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded solemnly. “The toughest, manliest marshmallow there ever was.”
We stared at each other for a beat. Carter lifted a hand and cradled my cheek, running his thumb over my bottom lip. “What am I going to do with you, Sunny?” he murmured.
I tilted my chin up, our lips a hairsbreadth apart. “I've got a few ideas.”
Carter's eyes darkened, and a thrill of anticipation ran through me.
Without warning, he lifted me and sat me on the kitchen table, sending pumpkin pieces flying. The bowls and utensils clattered to the floor as our kisses became heated and urgent.
“You're wearing too many clothes.” His hands found the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, tossing it aside. His fingers fluttered down my sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Much better. But still not enough.” He made quick work of my bra, unhooking it with practiced ease. As it fell away, he cupped my breasts in his large hands, thumbs flicking at my hardened nipples. My back bowed as I leaned into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.
Carter nuzzled my neck, trailing searing kisses down to my collarbone. His stubble scraped against my skin. I threaded my fingers through his hair, holding him close as pleasure coursed through me.
“Oh, God,” I whined as he took a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak.
His eyes locked with mine, dark with desire. “On your hands and knees.” It wasn’t a request. It was a command.
An excited shiver ran through me at his tone. I shifted on the table, turning so my back was to him. I hesitated for just a moment before lowering myself onto my hands and knees. The wood was cool against my palms and sticky with pumpkin juice.
“Just like that,” Carter crooned. His hands skimmed over my back, making my skin tingle. “You're so beautiful, Olivia.”
I felt exposed and vulnerable in this position, but Carter's reverent touch eased my nerves. His fingers hooked into my waistband and he tugged my jeans and panties over my hips. Cool air hit my newly bared skin.
His hands returned to my backside, kneading the round globes of my butt. He hummed low in his throat. “Perfect.”
His touch sent static prickles of arousal through my body. I arched my back, pressing into his hands. He gently spread my legs wider, his hands warm and strong on my thighs. His fingers moved in lazy circles over my sensitive skin, moving higher and higher.
When he finally touched me where I needed him most, I whimpered.
He groaned appreciatively. “So wet for me already.” One finger circled my clit as he slid another inside me. The dual sensations made me moan and push back against his hand.
The bastard withdrew his fingers, leaving me aching and empty. I was about to protest when his hot breath fluttered against my core. His tongue licked a long stripe from my clit to my entrance, and my arms nearly gave out from the intense pleasure.
He took his time, alternating between broad strokes and rapid flicks. His talented tongue explored every inch of me, finding spots I didn't even know were sensitive. When he sucked my clit between his lips, stars exploded behind my eyelids.
“Carter, please,” I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for. More? Release? Everything?
He redoubled his efforts, his stubble deliciously rough against my inner thighs as he devoured me from behind. His strong hands gripped my butt, spreading me open and holding me steady as tremors of pleasure coursed through my body.
The wet sounds of his ministrations filled the air, mingling with my breathless whimpers and gasps. It was incredible, every nerve ending sang with sensation. I was drowning in ecstasy.
“Oh God, Carter,” I moaned, my fingers curling against the smooth wood of the table. My arms shook as I struggled to hold myself up, overwhelmed by the onslaught of pleasure.
Suddenly, he pulled back. I whined at the loss of contact, my body aching for more. I heard the rustle of fabric and the clinking of a belt buckle as he quickly shed his pants.
He grabbed my hips, lifting me off the table and setting my feet on the cool tile floor. I braced myself, my legs trembling with anticipation.
Carter pressed himself against my back. His hard length slipped between my thighs, and I instinctively thrust back, seeking more contact.
“Ready for me, Sunny?” he said, his voice low and gravelly.
“Yes,” I panted. “God, fuck me now.”
He buried himself inside me with one powerful thrust. I cried out at the sudden fullness, my inner walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth. Carter groaned. His fingernails bit into my hips as he held himself still, giving me a moment to adjust.
Then he began to move, setting a brutal pace that had me gasping for air. Each snap of his hips drove me forward, the edge of the table digging into my thighs as it shifted across the kitchen floor.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Carter ground out. The slap of skin against skin filled the air, punctuated by our breathless moans and gasps.
I was close, that familiar tension building low in my belly. Carter must have sensed it too because one of his hands snaked around to rub tight circles on my clit. The dual stimulation was almost overwhelming.
“Come for me,” he urged, his movements becoming more erratic. “Let me feel you.”
His words were like a final push. I cried out as my orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, my inner walls clutching rhythmically around Carter's length. He swore, his hips stuttering as he followed me over the edge. His breath was hot in my ear as he murmured my name.
Still joined, we slumped over the table, content to bask in the afterglow.
Reality came crashing back when I knocked over a bowl of pumpkin innards, spilling its contents across the table and onto the floor.
Nothing interrupts a post-coital haze like the sound of splattering orange sludge.
We froze, chests heaving, and then burst into laughter.
“I think we made a mess,” I said through my giggles.
“Right? It's like Fifty Shades of Gourd in here or something.”
I snorted. “Don't tell me you’re a Taylor Swift fan, and you read Fifty Shades.”
Carter simply waggled his eyebrows, and that was it for me.
This man had my whole heart.