Chapter 42
LAWSON
Carlie laid bare on my kitchen counter is the way I want to end every fucking day. Every long, hard day should be rewarded this way. For the both of us. Grabby hands pull on my wrists. Her brown eyes darken as her fingers pluck a nipple.
Fuck me.
“You hungry?” I ask, and her head pops up, brows drawn, tone obviously not lending to her current mood, and it catches her off guard. I smile, playing with her.
“No.” She slides a hand down her belly, slipping a finger into her soaked center, and I almost ditch what I had in mind. Almost.
I open the refrigerator and lean down, turning my back to her. “I’m starvin’.”
A little huff sounds from behind me.
My smile widens.
I grab the can of whipped cream and the strawberry jam.
Perfect.
I turn back, letting the refrigerator door fall closed, and she’s sitting at the end of the counter, hands gripping the edge. Her expression is a tangle of confusion and annoyance that falls away to surprise when her gaze dips to the items in my hands.
“I’m fucking starving, baby. Lie down.”
“You wouldn’t . . .” she breathes, her gaze alternating from the cream and jam to my face.
“I absolutely would. Now. Lie down.” The words are more of a growl as every last bit of blood sinks south at the sight of her bare on my kitchen counter.
She huffs a breathy “Fuck” and does as she’s told.
I like this Carlie.
For a little while, anyway. I couldn’t go without her smart mouth keeping me on my toes for too long. Her eyes don’t leave my face, her breaths cycling deep and quick as I shake the can and flip the lid off with my thumb. It hits the floor, rolling away as I step up to the counter.
“Close your eyes, Princess.”
With a quick warning glance, she lets her eyes flutter shut.
I survey her soft skin, the delicious angles of her curves, her breasts, the dip of her stomach, the frame of her hips that gives way to the place I want to dive into and never return.
Shaking the can once more for good measure, I squirt a perfect circle around one nipple.
The instant the cold cream hits her skin, she hisses, hands curling around the long edges of the counter.
“Laws . . .” she breathes.
“Keep ’em closed,” I rasp.
A tentative smile curves over her lips, her grip turning white on the counter when I pepper more cream on her breast. I run a line of the glossy white topping down her center, stopping just before the sweet nub I’m sure is driving her crazy right now.
I round the counter so I’m at the end, spread her thighs, and strategically place more cream up each thigh, stopping short of her entrance.
“Lawson Rawlins, don’t you dare.” She swallows hard.
I squirt the cream over her clit, letting it fall and cover her pussy.
“The hell . . . you didn’t,” she whines.
I chuckle at her. I’ve never seen her so wound up. So desperate. It’s magnificent. I reach for the jam and twist the lid off before dropping dollops over her skin, little ruby pearls of jam.
Now I really am fucking starving, looking at her spread for me, splayed over the counter.
She’s damn delicious.
I pad to her head and bend over, kissing her mouth. “Hold on to the counter, Princess.”
Not giving her a chance to respond, I lick the cream from one breast.
Her back leaves the counter on a whimper.
I clean the cream from her sweet, fleshy breast and suckle the nipple, then move to the other.
Her hands are white-knuckled around the edge of the counter when I’m done, and I slowly make my way down her belly, feasting my way south on a smorgasbord of strawberries and cream.
Fuck, this might be my favorite memory of this fiery little woman yet.
Running my tongue over the last of the whipped topping on her belly, I move to her clit. One hard suck and she’s crying out my name, her body trembling on the hard surface.
“Hold still, I’m hungry.” I grip her thighs with a rough hold, shoving them wider as I devour the sweet goodness from her throbbing nub, sweeping my tongue over her entrance. The combination of strawberries and cream and Carlie is heady. Overwhelming.
My cock throbs, agonizingly so.
The telltale heat spikes low in my spine and my balls tighten, and I have to take a breath. Fuck, there is no way I’m losing my load to the counter instead of inside my favorite fucking human. I clamp a hand over my cock.
As the urge subsides, I dive back in, but now she’s sitting up. Brown eyes burn into mine as her chest rises and falls in rapid succession. “Why’d you stop?”
I groan. “You’re—”
“You still look hungry to me.” Her hands are in my hair, fingers tangling as she sends me back in to finish what I started.
I would chuckle at her, but I’m too desperate now. I may have started this little picnic to tease her, but hell, now I’m the one strung out for this.
I send my tongue through her center, and her legs fall away wider as she leans over, cradling my head against her chest. I tilt my head up and suckle a nipple into my mouth. Her back arches, hips rocking forward.
Fuck.
“Fingers, please,” she utters.
I slide two fingers inside her, nibbling on one hard peak as she moans my name between strings of curses. Her hands cup my jaw as she looks down at me before she shoves my face back to her pussy. “You’re still hungry, baby. Eat.”
“You have no idea,” I growl.
I lean to the side of the counter and drag a stool to the end. Planting myself on it, I slide my hands under her knees and pull her to the edge until her pussy is in my face, my mouth lined up with my feast. “No coming until I tell you, you hear?”
She scoffs a laugh and rolls her eyes at me.
I shake my head at her with a smile before diving in. I run a slow, strong stroke of my tongue through her, curling it as I lap up the cream. Swallowing, I lick my lips.
Fuck, a man could die like this. From the pure torturous bliss of it.
I lick and devour the last of the cream, thumbing the trail still on the inside of her thighs into my mouth intermittently, dragging this out for as long as possible.
The more time I take, the more wound up she becomes, until my girl is writhing on the hard countertop. I’m an ass, I know, because I have been purposely avoiding the one place she is desperate for me.
So I’m not surprised when her hand releases the edge of the counter, and two fine fingers ghost over her clit.
I take her hand, lacing my fingers with hers as I drop my mouth to the sweet little nub. It quivers in my mouth on the first suckle.
“Oh fuck, Laws.”
She’s so close.
I lift my head, running a finger through her entrance. “Not yet, baby.”
“No, please . . .” she cries.
“So fucking desperate to come, Carlie.”
Her back leaves the counter, brown eyes boring down on me, her face twisted with agonized annoyance. “I—”
“You want more, you can either beg for it or tell me just how mine this pussy is.”
Her brows fall.
I can practically see the cogs turning as she goes back and forth on which one she’ll relent to. Either is fine by me. But I want her to know she’s mine and that I’m not going anywhere.
I stand and cup her face in my hands. “Beg or confess.”
Her browns line with silver, and still no answer spills through her lips. “Confess,” she whispers.
“I’m all ears.” I drop my forehead to hers.
“I love you, Lawson Rawlins. I’m yours.” She huffs a breathy laugh. “My pussy is yours. And . . .”
“And?” I lean back, searching her face.
“Please, Cowboy. Please fuck me. I need you. I want every part of you. Every amazing fucking inch of you.”
“Both, I’m impressed.”
She leans closer and nips my bottom lip. It stings a little before copper slips into my mouth.
“Oh, you’ve done it now, Princess.”
“I have?” Her eyes widen as they flicker over my face.
“Oh yeah.” I slide her from the counter and onto my hips. “Now I’m going to make you wait so long.”
“No, Laws.” Her hands palm my jaw. “No, please.”
I love her begging. Not because it makes her submissive, but because the way she needs me makes me feel whole. Like no matter what, I’ll be able to take care of her. Of us. No matter what comes our way.
I wander to the bedroom with her resting on my hips.
“The bed? How vanilla, Cowboy.” She narrows her eyes at me.
Ignoring her sassy little barb, I sit on the bed and manhandle her until her back is to me. She looks over her shoulder with a lazy smile. “Wanna watch me bounce, Cowboy?”
“Fuck yes.”
She lines herself up with my aching cock. And fuck, I can’t wait another damn second. I grip her hips, slamming her downward as I thrust up.
“Oh god, Laws.” Her head falls back, strawberry blonde waves swaying down her back.
This is it. The sight of her, her bare curves, her hair over her back, small shoulders dipping to a slim waist that ends with her perfect round ass now bobbing up and down on my cock.
My grip on her hips tightens as I groan.
She rises slower this time, looking over her shoulder.
“Good, Cowboy?”
“Fuck, baby. Jus—” I still her with my hands.
Fuck.
“Don’t you dare, Lawson Rawlins. I plan on fucking you on every single surface in this tiny-ass apartment.”
I huff out a strangled laugh and she lowers, so damn slow my head spins. Each breath burns its way through my chest. “Move, we need to move, then.”
She rises, losing me from her delicious heat. I groan, reaching for her.
How the tables have turned.
Fuck, I’m pathetic for this woman.
And she damn well knows it.
She walks backward, beckoning me with a crooked finger. “Come, Cowboy.”
I leave the bed, my cock aching at the loss of her.
“Follow me, Lawson . . .”
Any-fucking-where, Princess.
Any-fucking-where.