Chapter 4 - Wrecker #3
She draws her fingers out until only the tips remain inside, then slides them back deep and rolls her hips. The cot bumps the wall. Wet gleams on her hand and coats the swell of her sex. She keeps her eyes on mine, pupils blown wide, a dare and a promise.
“This is wrong,” JC says, but he doesn’t leave.
“Shut it,” Nico mutters.
She reaches for me with her free hand, hooks two fingers in my belt, and holds me there as if I’m on a leash. My body goes hot-cold. Her other hand keeps moving between her legs, thumb circling, fingers thrusting, the pace steadying into purpose.
“Please,” she breathes. “Don’t stop me.”
“I’m not stopping you,” I say, and it comes out rough. I brace my palms on the cot frame near her hips and lean in until I can feel the heat of her on my face. I don’t touch. I let my breath slide over her clit and her whole body shivers.
Levi,” she says, and hearing my name in her mouth is a sin I’ve wanted for months—longer than I ever should’ve let myself.
“For me,” I tell her. “Come for me.”
She bears down on her fingers and grinds her thumb in tight circles.
Her belly tenses, thighs shaking, a flush rides up her chest. The slick sound quickens, then stutters.
She goes rigid, mouth open, eyes locked to mine as the first pulse takes her.
She cries out, tries to swallow it, fails, rides it through with a roll of her hips that drags a fresh gush over her knuckles.
I watch every second, claim it with my eyes, hold her gaze so she knows who’s taking this from her and keeping it.
Aftershocks ripple through her. She pants, small sounds that ruin me. Her hand slows, then stills. She pulls her fingers free and brings them to her lips. She sucks them clean, tongue stroking along the seams, and I feel my control tear.
Nico curses again, helpless. JC mutters something that might be a prayer.
Carrie drops her hand to the cot and looks up at me, cheeks flushed, lips wet. “Not his,” she says, quiet and sure. “Mine.”
I swallow hard. My hands hover near her hips, close enough to feel the warmth of her skin. If I touch her now I will not stop.
“Good,” I say, voice low. “Then you decide what happens next.”
She smiles, slow and filthy, and opens wider. “Then get on your knees, Levi,” she whispers. “See me closer.”
I drop to my knees.
The cot frame presses into my thighs. Her scent fills my lungs. I set my hands on her hips and breathe once, slow, so I don’t lose myself in the first second.
“Eyes on me,” she whispers.
“I hear you.”
I lean in and kiss the soft inside of her thigh, then the other, then the smooth edge where thigh turns to heat. She trembles. I hover and let my breath drift over her clit. She makes a small sound, needy and sweet.
“Levi,” JC says behind me. A warning that sounds like want.
“Let him,” Nico answers, rough.
I part her with my thumbs and put my mouth on her. The first taste ruins me. Warm, salted sweetness, the slick slide of her against my tongue. I flatten it and lick from entrance to clit, slow, then seal my lips around that tender bead and pull gently. Her whole body jumps.
“God,” she gasps. Her hands find my hair. She doesn’t push. She guides.
I give her what she showed me a minute ago, that pressure, that angle.
Short pulls, light circles, then firmer, then a soft tap with the tip of my tongue.
I work her clit and keep it there, no teasing unless she asks for it.
My fingers slide to her entrance and linger, gathering wet, then slip in, one at first, just to feel the tight draw of her around me.
She squeezes. I add a second, curl them, and her hips rock against my face.
“Look at him take care of you,” Nico says, voice gone low.
“I am looking,” she breathes, though her head tips back on a moan when I suck again. “Levi, yes.”
I keep my pace true to her breaths. When she chases, I give her more.
When she shakes, I ease for a heartbeat, then press a little harder.
My fingers stroke that inner spot, firm and careful, and her thighs close around my head.
I welcome the trap. She tastes like heat and want, and every sound she makes turns the screws on the control I have left.
JC’s boots creak on the floorboards. He steps closer.
I can feel him there, a wall of body heat at my shoulder.
He doesn’t touch, but I feel the weight of his stare on my mouth working her.
Carrie’s hand leaves my hair, slides down, and she holds my wrist as if to anchor herself while I curl my fingers inside her again.
“Talk to me,” I tell her, words against her clit.
“So good,” she says. “Right there. Don’t stop. Please.”
I don’t stop. I seal my mouth and pull, tongue flicking in a tight rhythm while my fingers stroke deeper. She rides it, hips rolling, abs clenching. The cot bumps the wall in a soft, relentless beat. Wet slicks my knuckles and coats my beard. I swallow every drop.
“Pretty little sounds,” Nico says, almost a growl.
“Shut it,” JC mutters, but he sounds wrecked.
I press my free hand to her lower belly, firm, pinning her just enough to give her something to work against. She grinds up. Her thighs tremble around my ears. I drink her in, breathe her, give her everything she asked for and everything I’ve wanted to give for years.
Her voice breaks on my name. “Levi.”
“I’ve got you,” I say into her, and suck harder.
The orgasm takes her like a wave. She goes tight and high and then she breaks, heat pulsing around my fingers, clit throbbing under my tongue. She cries out, loud this time. I hold her through it, keep my mouth on her, ride the roll and the aftershocks until she shivers and pulls at my hair.
“Sensitive,” she gasps, laughing a little, breath ragged.
I ease off, kiss her clit soft, then the crease of her thigh, then lick the taste of her from my lips and fingers. Her legs slip from my shoulders. I straighten slowly, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and meet her eyes.
She looks wrecked and gorgeous. Cheeks flushed. Chest rising fast. Nipples peaked. Her lips shine where she has bitten them.
“Come here,” she says.
I step in. She lifts, wraps her arms around my neck, and drags me down for a kiss. She opens for me, greedy, tasting herself on my tongue. The kiss is deep and messy and perfect. I forget there’s anyone else in the room until Nico exhales a curse and JC shifts his weight as if it hurts.
JC steps in, fingers gentle at her jaw, and bends to kiss her.
She opens for him, hungry, tasting herself on his tongue.
Nico slides to the other side, palms stroking up her ribs to cup her breasts.
His thumbs circle her nipples, then he lowers his mouth to one, sucking until she arches into him with a startled sound.
“Please,” she whispers, and it’s not asking for permission, it’s an invitation.
JC deepens the kiss, one hand laced with hers, the other mapping her throat and the hollow above her collarbone.
Nico’s free hand glides along the inside of her thigh, teasing close to the slick heat and then skimming away, a promise without stealing what I just gave her.
She turns her head and kisses JC again, then gasps when Nico grazes her nipple with his teeth and soothes it with his tongue.
“Good girl,” Nico murmurs against her skin. JC mutters her name like a prayer into her mouth.
She breaks the kiss, breath warm against my mouth. “I want you inside me,” she whispers, not coy, not bargaining. “Now.”
My hands find her hips. I could fall into this and never climb out. I force myself to think enough to ask the thing that matters. “You sure?”
Her chin lifts. “It’s my choice.”
The words hit me like a hand on my spine. I work my belt, pop the button, drag the zipper down. My cock springs free, hot and aching. She reaches, wraps her fingers around me, and I have to shut my eyes for one breath so I don’t lose everything like a kid.
“Condom,” JC says, voice tight.
I nod without looking away from her, fish one from my wallet with clumsy fingers, tear it, roll it down. She watches me like she owns me, and maybe she does. I line up, head pressed to her entrance, and hold, just for the beat where we look at each other and agree.
“Levi,” she says, a plea and a command.
I push in.
Heat grips me, slick and tight. I sink slow, inch by inch, until our hips meet and I’m buried in her to the base. We both swear. I brace my hands beside her shoulders, breathe once against her cheek, and start to move.
No hurry. Deep, deliberate thrusts that slide the length of me through that heat. She fits around me like she was built for this, for me. She lifts her legs and hooks her knees over my forearms, opening herself wider, taking me deeper. The cot squeals. My control frays with every stroke.
“Look at him,” Nico mutters, a mix of envy and awe.
“I am,” she says, eyes on mine, voice threaded with silk and grit. “I am.”
I angle my hips and find the spot my fingers found. Her body answers at once, clutching, rippling. I lower my mouth to her neck and bite lightly, then soothe with my tongue. She arches, nails digging into my shoulders through my shirt.
“Harder,” she whispers.
I give it to her. Thrusts that knock little sounds from her throat. Thrusts that make her breasts bounce and her eyes glaze. The rhythm builds and climbs. Sweat runs down my back. My thighs burn. I don’t care. I want to watch her fall apart again with me inside her.
“Touch yourself,” I say, breath harsh. “Come on my cock.”
She slips a hand between us and rubs her clit, quick circles, the same way she showed me. The sight nearly ends me. I grit my teeth and hold the line, drive into her, keep that angle, keep that pressure.
“Levi,” she cries, voice breaking. “God, yes, yes.”