Chapter 9
NINE
Carter
“Why are you here all alone?”
With my back against the pool’s concrete wall and my arms spread to either side, I turn my head toward the girl who just swam over. I’m in the deep end, meaning she has to tread water before reaching me, draping her arms over my shoulders. Her tongue darts over her lips before she looks down between us, where my dick is on display. My clothes are somewhere on the patio—I wasn’t really paying attention when I stripped down and dove in, wanting to cool myself off.
The girl bats her eyes and scrapes her lip with her teeth. “You look like you could use a friend.” Pulling herself closer to me, she rubs her tits against my chest. Not a bad feeling.
But not one that’s doing anything for me right now.
All around me, people are getting deeper into party mode. Easton is in the middle of making out with two girls, both of whom are playing with his dick while he gropes their tits and asses. Kellan has a blonde in his lap. I think I saw Preston walking into the house, holding hands with a naked brunette. Everybody’s having a good time.
Except for me.
And it’s all Elliana’s fault.
I should be hard as steel, especially once the girl who has wrapped herself around me starts planting kisses against my jaw. “How about I suck that big cock for you?” she whispers in my ear while dragging her nails across the back of my neck. “Just scoot your ass up on the patio, and I’ll do it in front of everybody.”
Am I dead below the waist? Is that the problem? Because normally, I wouldn’t waste any time pushing myself up onto the edge of the pool and taking her by the back of the head so she could feast on me. Right now, though, the thought does nothing but turn me off.
And it’s all Elliana’s fault. I haven’t been able to get her out of my fucking head all night, especially since whatever the hell happened in the kitchen. She’s upstairs now, but she might as well be in front of me with that wounded look in her eyes.
I would never have guessed it’s possible to hate somebody the way I hate her. It’s a constant pulse running through my body, pure, white-hot energy that sears me inside. The water around me is cool, but it might as well be boiling.
I want to tell everybody to go home. I don’t want to see any of them. Fuck, I hate them all right now. I hate them for being able to let loose the way I wanted to tonight.
“I’m good,” I grunt, unwrapping the girl from around me and giving her a little shove. “But thanks.” She mutters something that tells me she’s insulted, but swims off, probably looking for the next swinging dick without a partner.
Pushing myself up out of the water, I stride across the patio and grab a towel from the stack on one of the chairs. All I do is a quick rubdown, including my feet—it took one experience with falling on my ass on the kitchen floor to make me more careful.
All through the house, people are dancing—dressed, naked, and everything in between. The music is deafening, pounding in my ears, making it tough to think as I work my way past groups of people. Girls reach out, grab at me, but I shake them off like they’re nothing more than pests. Because that’s what they are. And I am in no fucking mood.
She’s going to pay for this. Why couldn’t she do one simple fucking thing I asked her to do and stay upstairs? What do I have to do to get through to her? I take the stairs two at a time, my fury growing with every step. It doesn’t matter how much I drank. The alcohol only fuels the fire burning in me as I pound on Elliana’s bedroom door with the side of my fist.
“Open up!” I bark, pounding again before trying the knob. I shouldn’t be surprised when it turns. She’s not even smart enough to lock it. Can’t she do anything right?
As soon as I’m in the room, she shouts, “Get the fuck out of here!”
Whoa. It’s enough to make me stop dead in my tracks, looking around. Something is way off. The voice came from the bathroom, and I turn my head in that direction—the door is open, the light’s on, and she is crouched in front of the toilet, holding a sponge, cleaning something. Puke? It would serve her right if she made herself sick.
“Did you go deaf down there? I said get out!” She jumps to her feet and before I know it, I’m ducking a sponge as it flies through the air. It lands on the floor behind me, and I look at it before turning to look at her again.
I’ve never seen her like this, and it’s not the attitude alone that’s different. She’s only wearing a tight pair of shorts that could pass for underwear and a tank top that barely covers her navel. Her hair is still pulled up, though now more of it is hanging down around her flushed face.
“What the hell happened up here?” I ask once I catch sight of a pile of wet towels in one corner of the bathroom. Not just wet. Sodden.
“None of your fucking business! You are disgusting, and so are all of your so-called friends down there! A bunch of pigs!”
This is different. And I don’t know if it’s because I’m drunk or what, but for the first time since I set eyes on her, I like her a little bit. I like her better this way—with some fire in her voice and her eyes, instead of that constant look of fear she’s always wearing.
“Did somebody do this in here?” I’m probably taking my life in my hands by coming closer to the bathroom, and now I see a plunger sitting next to the toilet and a bunch of used paper towels sitting in a pile in the sink.
“Yeah, somebody did this! While I was downstairs. Pigs!” she barks again, gripping the counter with her head hanging low and her body heaving with every ragged breath. “What did I do to deserve this? Tell me! What did I ever do?”
The thing is, I don’t know. I know I have my reasons for hating this girl, but I doubt she has so much as looked at anybody in the eye at school so far. She’s too terrified to start shit with anyone.
“Who was it?”
“What do you care? For all I know, you put them up to it,” she mutters, lifting her head so her dark eyes meet mine in the mirror. Holy fuck, she’s burning with rage. “Tiana. She and her friends were walking downstairs when I was coming up.”
I should’ve known. That bitch never knows when to leave well enough alone. “I’ll deal with her.”
“Oh, please. Don’t do me any favors,” she fires back with a bitter laugh. “Why don’t you paint a target on my back while you’re at it, you selfish prick?”
Then she pushes her way past me to storm back into the bedroom.
Goddamnit. She should be like this all the time. It’s either the rage or whatever she was drinking, but she’s actually acting like a real person with emotions and thoughts.
I’ll be damned if it’s not making my dick stir in a way it hasn’t yet tonight.
“Get your ass out of here,” she concludes after grabbing the sponge she was using. “I have more cleaning to do, thanks to your nasty friends.”
But before she can sidestep me on her furious march, I grab her by the elbow and hold her in place. “Not so fast.”
“Get off me!” she snarls. “And the next time you come in my room, Carter, put some clothes on. Maybe you and your guests think it’s fine to walk around like that, but it’s not.”
I don’t even hear her anymore. Her lips are moving—full lips, ripe—but all I hear is blood rushing in my ears.
Self-control has never been my strong point, and she is testing it way beyond anything ever has. Nobody could blame me for not yet noticing her the way I am now. How could I when she’s always covered up in so many layers? Now I see the perky tits and the tiny waist that flares into a pair of hips I can imagine sinking my fingers into while I take her from behind.
How am I supposed to resist this?
“What are you doing?” she shrieks when I pull her over to the bed and shove her down. She can shriek all she wants. Nobody can hear her downstairs. And after everything she’s put me through, this is the least I deserve.
“Why don’t you relax and find out?” When I take hold of her ankles, she tries to kick, but she’s not strong enough to get rid of me. All she does is make me more determined to play with her. Has anyone ever touched this body the way I am now? Running my hands up her calves, over her lean, silky thighs?
“Stop! You’ve made your point. Leave me alone,” she groans, slapping at my bare chest with both hands when I lean over her.
“I knew there was something you were hiding.” Her curves are lush, and every sweep of my fingers over her skin makes me want more. “Under all the clothes and the glasses, you’re an animal, aren’t you?”
“How about I claw your eyes out to show you?” she grits out, her teeth bared in a snarl.
“You could try. But aren’t there better things we could do?” When I cup one of her tits, there’s a second where the fury blazing in her eyes turns into something else. Something softer, but just as hot. Her nipple goes hard under my palm and makes my cock, which was already getting thicker, suddenly jump to attention.
I could take her here and now and there wouldn’t be anything she could do about it. I could sink deep, pound her pussy until I fuck the defiance out of her. And in the end, she would thank me for it. She would moan my name while soaking my balls with her juices. I can see her in my head, brains fucked out, splayed across the bed. It’s damn tempting.
Instead, I let my hand slide over her flat stomach while she lies under me, holding her breath, her body rigid. “It’s probably better that you hide this from me,” I whisper, inching lower, making her face contort as she tries like hell to resist what my touch is doing to her.
“Don’t,” she whispers, but her body is telling another story. Her hips tilt to meet my touch when I cup her mound through her tight shorts.
“So warm.” I sigh, my dick pressed against her thigh as I start to rub her in slow circles. Her eyes close and her head falls back, while her forehead scrunches like she’s concentrating hard on what’s happening. What I’m doing to her. What I would bet nobody has ever done to her before me.
It’s not enough to touch her with fabric between her hot pussy and my fingers. No, I need more, so I work my fingers under her waistband.
Her eyes fly open wide along with her mouth, but all that comes out is a broken moan when I make contact with her bare mound. “You’re not such a good girl, are you?” I whisper while I tease her bald lips. “What other secrets are you trying to hide?”
She only arches her back, nipples ready to poke through her shirt, and they are too tempting to resist. She arches again when I flick the tip of my tongue over one of those taut peaks.
“Oh, my god,” she whispers, closing her eyes again, head rolling from side to side while I work her body like a puppet master. So wet—her juices already coat my fingers before I have the pleasure of sliding through her swollen folds.
“That’s right,” I grunt, while precum drips onto her thigh. “Give it to me. Show me how good you feel.” So fucking hot, so wet and ready for me.
And desperate. Her hips roll as one moan after another tumbles out of her mouth and fills the air. “What do you think? Do you think you could come on my fingers?” I ask, finding her tiny bud and rubbing it in quick strokes that makes her whimper.
“Carter…” she whines, and the sound unlocks something in me I didn’t know was there. Now it’s not enough to control her. I need to control her pleasure, decide when she gets it, how much. I’m not giving this up. Ever.
“I’m… Oh, god… I think I’m…” And then she bites down on her fist, straining, until the tension breaks and a fresh rush of warmth flows from her like a river. I want to taste her on my tongue. I want to feel her muscles ripple around me. More, I want more.
And when her eyes open and lock onto mine, the naked lust I see in them tells me I could have it. I could have all of her, here and now, while she’s flushed and breathless and still coming.
But no. Let her think about this for a while. A soft groan stirs in her throat when I pull my hand free and stand up straight, leaving her a breathless, gasping wreck. I commit her to memory: chest heaving, leg spread, a dark spot staining the crotch of her shorts before leaving the room and closing the door behind me.
Now that I’m rigid and straining, it would take nothing to find someone downstairs and fuck my frustrations away. But the idea doesn’t appeal for some reason. I can’t imagine doing it, can’t see it in my head. All I see is Elliana. Right now, nothing else will do.
Which is why I cross the hallway instead of going downstairs and lock myself in my room, my back against the door, my fist around my shaft while I hold my sticky fingers to my nose to inhale her musk. Fuck, the smell is unreal, intoxicating, and I can’t help but take a taste while fucking my fist hard and fast.
I can see it in my head. Her thighs around my ears while my tongue plunges deep, lapping up every drop. I can feel her hands on the back of my head, nails scraping my scalp while I give her pleasure, like she’s never imagined. Fulfilling every fantasy she didn’t even know she had.
Claiming her. Controlling her. Fucking her with my tongue until she screams my name.
Yes, and then I would sink deep… gripped by her tight cunt… My head touches the door, and I pant for air, my fist flying, and my balls lifting.
When I come, the force is enough to make my knees buckle and my head spin. One spurt after another runs over my knuckles and drips onto the floor while I hold her image in my head. It would’ve been so easy to do whatever I wanted. To claim her body.
And I will. I’m completely sure of it by the time my eyes open and the world comes back into focus. I will have her. Now that I’ve given her a taste, she’ll want more.
All I have to do is decide if I’ll make her beg for it.