Chapter 21 #3
Carrie made quick work of my shirt, her fingers nimble and determined as she shoved the fabric off my shoulders. I felt the cool air of the room hit my skin for only a second before her lips followed, pressing hot, lingering kisses across my chest that made my head fall against the door.
My hands were frantic, searching the smooth material of her red dress until I found the zipper at the small of her back. I pulled it down with a sharp, satisfying hiss, and she helped me guide the dress over her hips until it pooled like a crimson shadow on the floor.
Carrie didn't miss a beat. She moved me backward, her eyes locked on mine, until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress.
With a gentle but firm press to my shoulders, she pushed me down onto the bed.
I sank into the heavy duvet, watching as she quickly moved to undo my jeans, dragging them off with a desperate kind of efficiency.
Now, both of us were down to nothing but our underwear, the dim, warm light carving out the curves of her body—she was breathtaking, a masterpiece of grace and hidden fire. She climbed on top of me, her weight a grounding, perfect pressure against my own.
Our lips met again, but the rhythm had changed.
It was frantic, desperate, and devoid of the careful boundaries that used to define us.
We lost ourselves in one another, the world outside this room—the university, the modules, the parents, the past—all of it vanishing.
There was no Dr. Carter and no student. There was just Carrie and Alex, finally finding the release they’d been starving for.
Every touch was a revelation, every moan a confession.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her as close as humanly possible, finally understanding that this wasn't just about the thrill of the chase. It was about finding the only other person who spoke my language. Fuck. I didn’t want to let this go. I didn't want to let her go.
I found a sudden burst of strength and flipped our positions, consumed by the need to see her beneath me.
Carrie’s head hit the pillow with a soft thud, her hair fanning out against the dark silk like a halo.
I trailed hungry, searing kisses across the slope of her chest, my fingers finding the clasp of her bra and flicking it open with practiced ease.
A breathless chuckle escaped me as Carrie didn't miss a beat, her hands reaching up to tug my sports bra over my head and tossing it somewhere into the shadows of the room.
The feeling of our bare skin finally meeting—completely, without a single barrier—sent a shockwave through my system that nearly brought me to my knees.
I dipped my head, my mouth finding the peak of her breast. I suckled hungrily, a low groan vibrating in my throat as Carrie arched her back, her fingers clenching in my hair and pulling me tighter against her.
The professional, composed Dr. Carter was a memory; here, in the amber glow of her sanctuary, she was raw and beautifully unraveled.
"Alex," she gasped, her voice breaking on the syllable.
I moved lower, my breath hot against her stomach as I hooked my fingers into the elastic of her underwear. I looked up at her, my eyes meeting hers for a split second—a silent question that she answered by eagerly lifting her hips off the mattress to help me slide the silk away.
I’d never fucking wanted anything as much as I wanted the woman lying on this bed.
I moved lower, my head dipping as I eagerly sought to taste her again.
When my tongue found her, licking and then sucking at her clit, Carrie let out a sharp, shattered sound—the kind of moan that had haunted my mind all day.
Hearing it now, directed only at me, made my knees weak and sent a fresh wave of heat shooting through my entire body.
Carrie’s hands found my hair, her fingers gripping tight and pulling me closer, as if she was trying to anchor herself while the world fell away. I groaned against her, the sound muffled by her skin, my own pulse fucking racing in time with hers.
My hand trailed up the smooth line of her leg, my thumb grazing her hip before I found her, already slick and welcoming. I slid two fingers inside her, filling her deeply, and the way she gasped my name—her voice high and broken—was the most beautiful thing I’d ever fucking heard.
She arched against my hand, her body vibrating with every movement I made.
I lost myself in the rhythm, driven by a primal need for her to feel every ounce of the desperation I’d been carrying.
I wanted her to know exactly how much she’d unmoored me.
My fingers pumped in and out of her, steady and deep, while my mouth stayed focused on her clit, building the tension until the air in the room felt like it was vibrating.
Carrie’s breath came in short, ragged hitches, her body trembling beneath mine as she reached her breaking point. She was completely unraveled now—the poise and the academic distance burned away by the heat of my tongue and the friction of my hand.
"Alex, please," she choked out, her back arching off the silk sheets, her hands pulling at my hair with a frantic, beautiful urgency.
I didn’t slow down. I pushed harder, tasting her, feeling the internal muscles of her body clench around my fingers as her climax started to build like a rising tide. I wanted to be the one to tip her over the edge; I wanted to be the reason she finally let go of everything she’d been holding back.
The sounds she made—low, guttural moans that vibrated through me—were better than any grade, any achievement, or any win I’d ever had.
She was entirely mine in this moment, and as her body began to shudder with the first waves of her release, I felt a surge of triumph and affection so fierce it almost knocked the wind out of me.
Carrie’s body suddenly stiffened, her back arching into a bow as she shuddered through a violent, soul-shaking climax.
Her release soaked my fingers, the heat of her radiating against my palm as she cried out my name into the quiet room.
I slowed my pace, rhythmic and gentle, guiding her through the aftershocks until her breathing started to even out.
When I finally pulled my fingers away, I didn’t break eye contact. I slowly licked them clean, tasting her, my eyes never leaving hers.
Carrie lay there for a moment, panting, her chest heaving and her hair a wild, dark halo across the pillow.
I thought she was finished, that we were about to collapse into each other, but then her eyes snapped open.
The vulnerability from before hadn't vanished, but it had been joined by a sharp, commanding spark of hunger.
She reached up, her hands surprisingly strong as she grabbed the front of my waist and hauled me up her body. She didn't ask.
"Hold the headboard, Alex," she demanded, her voice low, raspy, and thick with authority. She looked up at me from the pillows, her lips swollen and her gaze dark with intent. "I want you to ride my face."
My heart, which had just started to settle, kicked into an even more frantic gear.
The sheer bluntness of the command sent a fresh surge of heat straight to my core.
I didn't hesitate. I moved over her, my hands finding the cool, dark wood of the headboard and gripping it until my knuckles turned white.
I looked down at her, seeing the professor flicker back into her eyes—but this time, she wasn't grading me. She was taking exactly what she wanted.
Carrie’s hands were urgent now, her fingers hooking into the waistband of my underwear and tugging them down with a rough, focused impatience. I lifted my hips, kicking the fabric away and feeling the cool air of the room hit me for only a second before she was pulling me back down.
She gripped my hips, her touch firm and grounding, and hauled me forward until I was positioned exactly where she wanted me. I let out a sharp, jagged gasp as she made contact, her tongue finding me with a precision that made my vision blur.
Gripping the headboard until the wood bit into my palms, I arched my back, my breath hitching in my throat.
The transition from being the one in control to being completely at her mercy was dizzying.
She was relentless, her mouth warm and incredibly skilled, tasting the aftermath of her own release on me before driving me toward my own.
"Carrie," I moaned, my head falling back, my body trembling with the sheer force of it.
She didn’t slow down. She used her hands to hold me steady, her thumbs tracing the insides of my thighs as she worked me over.
I’d spent all day feeling like I was falling apart, but here, under her gaze and her touch, I felt like I was finally being put back together—one shattering sensation at a time.
I moved against her, my rhythm frantic and desperate, the friction building a heat that felt like it was going to consume the both of us.