15. Carter
Carter
C atalina’s draped across the island counter with her cheek pressed to the cool granite, as her arm dangles over the edge. Her iced matcha sits untouched beside her, condensation pooling in a ring.
“What now, darlin’?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe, though my chest already aches at the sight of her.
She lifts her head an inch, enough to glare at me with glassy brown eyes. “I’m not pregnant.”
I blink. “Catalina, baby, it doesn’t happen right away.”
“My uterus hates me. I’m a barren wasteland.”
I scrub a hand over my face, fighting a smile I know will get me killed. “It doesn’t work like that, baby. It’s too early to even know for sure.”
Her groan grows louder, vibrating against the countertop. “I just feel it, Carter. My life is over. Done. Buried. My tombstone will say: here lies Catalina, dramatic as fuck, survived by her bow collection.”
I cross the kitchen in two quick steps and lean down, placing my hands on either side of her. “Darlin’,” I murmur softly into her ear, “you’re not broken. You’re not failing me. You hear me?”
She tilts her head slightly to look at me, her bottom lip trembling. “But what if I am?”
God, it guts me.
I brush my thumb along her cheek, my voice lowering even more. “Then we keep tryin’. And I’ll make it really fun for you.”
That pulls a shaky laugh from her, and I breathe easier.
“Carter Hayes,” she whispers, eyes narrowing as if she’s trying not to smile, “are you seriously turning my emotional spiral into foreplay?”
“Guilty,” I admit, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Because I can’t stand seein’ you sad. And I’ll do whatever it takes to put that smile back where it belongs.”
Her groan turns into a laugh, and I thank God for it.
I stay bent over her, my hands pressed on the counter, her face inches from mine. She’s pouting, lips pushed out as if daring me to argue.
“You know what I see when I look at you right now?” I ask, voice low, teasing.
She narrows her eyes. “A tragic heroine whose body has betrayed her?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “No. I see my wife bein’ dramatic as hell, sprawled across the counter, and she’s still the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyes flicker, softening for half a second before she huffs, trying to hold onto her pout. “Flattery won’t fix my barren womb.”
“Darlin’, your womb ain’t barren. It’s stubborn. Like you.” I grin when she gasps, affronted. “Takes a little time to get what it wants.”
She swats at my chest, but a smile is tugging at her mouth now. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re mine,” I murmur, sliding my hand over hers where it rests on the counter. I squeeze gently, grounding her. “You hear me? We’re doin’ this together. No rush. No pressure. Just us.”
Her lashes flutter, and I see her fighting the wobble in her lip again. I press a slow, sure kiss to her knuckles before pulling her hand to my chest.
“You’re not failin’ me, Catalina. Don’t you dare think that. We’ll keep trying, and if the test continues to come back negative, then we’ll try again. You’re perfect regardless.”
She looks at me, her chestnut eyes glassy and soft. Then she sighs, collapsing into me when I pull her off the counter and onto my lap on the barstool.
“Fine,” she mutters against my neck, arms wrapping around me. “But if I’m not pregnant in, like, two weeks, I reserve the right to have another meltdown.”
I kiss the top of her head, smiling into her hair. “Darlin’, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Her laughter bubbles against my throat, and the kitchen feels whole again.
She’s still pressed against the counter, my hands braced on either side of her. I think I’ve finally coaxed her out of her spiral, until she shifts, tilting her hips just enough to brush against me.
Heat shoots through me. “Catalina…”
Her eyes sparkle, lips curving smugly. “What?”
“You know what,” I growl, my jaw tight, cock already straining against my jeans.
She turns around, sliding her hands up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt, tugging me closer. “Maybe I’m just distracting myself,” she whispers. “Healthy coping mechanism, right?”
I grunt, leaning in until our mouths are a breath apart. “Pretty sure no therapist would recommend grindin’ on your husband in the kitchen.”
“Maybe they should.” Her smirk widens, her voice dropping into a purr.
I grab her hips, hauling her flush against me, swallowing her little gasp with a kiss. She tastes like matcha, her tongue teasing mine as her nails scrape down my chest. My blood’s boiling, ready to bend her back over the damn counter and fu?—
“HEY!” Maverick’s voice booms through the house. “Y’all home? I brought donuts!”
Catalina rips her mouth from mine with a groan, throwing her head back like she’s in pain. “No, absolutely not.”
I close my eyes, bite back a curse, and rest my forehead against hers. “Of course,” I mutter. “Of course, he picks now.”
Maverick bursts into the kitchen, pink box in hand, grinning wide as if he didn’t just walk in on me seconds before stripping my wife. “Oh, good, you’re not naked. Catalina, you look like you could use a Boston cream.”
She glares daggers at him. “You’re dead to me.”
Maverick laughs, popping the lid open. “Love you too, Cat.”
I tighten my grip on her waist, kiss her temple, and mutter, “One of these days, darlin’, we’re lockin’ the damn doors.”
She sighs, as dramatic as ever. “One of these days, Carter, I’m gonna kill him.”
Maverick winks, shoving a donut in his mouth, completely unfazed.
He’s halfway through his donut when I’ve had enough. I let out a sharp breath, gently slide Catalina out of my arms, and stalk toward him.
He blinks as I place a hand on his chest and push him backward, box and all. “Whoa—hey! What the hell, man?”
“Out,” I snap, herding him toward the front door.
Maverick stumbles a step, still chewing, powdered sugar dusting his shirt. “Why do you hate me?” he yelps, indignant. “I bring pastries, I bring joy, and this is the thanks I get?”
I shove harder, jaw tight, every nerve still buzzing from Catalina’s body pressed against mine a minute ago. “I don’t hate you. I’m tryin’ to have sex with my wife.”
Maverick’s eyes widen, his grin spreading slow and wicked. “Ohhh. Ohhh. That’s what this is.”
“Get out, Mav.” I wrench the door open and push him across the threshold.
He laughs so hard that powdered sugar sprays into the air. “You’re unbelievable. Can’t even enjoy a jelly-filled with my brother without gettin’ cockblocked by true love.”
“Goodbye, Maverick.” I slam the door in his face before he can get another word out.
When I turn around, Catalina’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed, smirking at me.
“‘Trying to have sex with my wife,’” she repeats, grinning. “Very smooth, cowboy.”
I stride back over, grip her waist, and hoist her onto the counter so she’s eye level with me. “Not smooth, darlin’. Just honest.”
Her laugh bubbles out, wicked and smug, as she hooks her legs around me. “Then be honest with me upstairs.”
I swoop her up into my arms, kissing her neck with each stride I take up the wooden stairs. By the time I get her upstairs and set her on my bed, I’m half feral with need. I toss my hat on the dresser, kick off my boots, and turn to her where she’s perched on the edge of the bed, smug as sin.
“Alright, darlin’,” I rasp, tugging at the hem of her shirt. “No more interruptions.”
She places her hands behind her, leaning back slightly to make her tits strain against the fabric. “Not so fast, cowboy.”
My brows draw together. “Catalina?—”
My cock aches against my zipper, my jaw clenching tight. “You’re makin’ me crawl?”
She tilts her head, hair spilling over her shoulder, wedding ring catching the lamplight. “Uh-huh. On your knees, Hayes. Show me how badly you want it.”
For a beat, I stand there, chest heaving, watching her grin widen. She knows exactly what she’s doing—driving me crazy, making me lose the control I guard so damn tight.
I drop to my knees. The carpet burns as I move forward, crawling slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. Her breath catches, but she keeps that smug little smile, spreading her thighs wider on the mattress as I reach her.
“You happy now, darlin’?”
Her fingers weave into my hair, tugging gently and tilting my face up to hers. “Ecstatic.”
I grab her by the hips and drag her to the edge of the bed, burying my face between her thighs before she can get another word out. She gasps, her smugness breaking into a moan.
“You make me crawl,” I growl against her, sliding my tongue into her needy pussy. “I’ll make you beg.”
Her thighs tighten around my head as I drag my tongue up her slit, slow enough to make her squirm. She tugs at my hair, her moan breaking when I circle her clit with the flat of my tongue.
“Carter—” she gasps, arching back on her elbows.
I smirk against her, licking her again, slower this time. “What, baby? You wanted me on my knees. You gettin’ what you asked for.”
Her hips grind against my mouth, desperate, already trembling. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them just right while I suck her clit, and she lets out a cry so sharp it echoes off the walls.
“Fuck—don’t stop, don’t?—”
I pull back just enough to blow cool air over her swollen flesh, watching her thrash. “Don’t what, darlin’? Don’t edge you? ‘Cause that’s exactly what I’m doin’.”
She whines, tugging at my hair, her thighs squeezing tight. “You bastard.”
“Say please,” I rasp, sliding my fingers deeper, my tongue flicking just light enough to make her sob.
Her eyes squeeze shut, chest heaving. “Please, Carter. Please don’t stop. I need it, I need you.”
I groan, my cock straining painfully against my jeans, but I hold steady, working her until she’s right at the edge, then pulling back again.
She screams into her hands, kicking the sheets.
“You’ll come when I say,” I growl, my mouth glistening with her, my fingers teasing the rim of her entrance but not pushing in. “Not a second before.”
“God, I hate you,” she moans.
“No, you don’t.” I kiss the inside of her thigh, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “You love me for it.”
Her hips roll, needy, her eyes glassy when she looks down at me. “Then fucking prove it. Make me come.”
I growl, surging back in, sucking her clit hard while thrusting my fingers deep, curling until she shatters. Her cry rips through the air, her body clenching around me as I hold her steady, swallowing every drop, every sound.
I don’t stop until she’s screaming, tears slipping down her temples, her hand limp in my hair. I lick her clean, slow, savoring every second, before crawling up her body, my mouth crashing into hers.
“Good girl,” I rasp against her lips. “Now I need to be inside you.”
She’s limp under me, still trembling from coming on my mouth, but I’m too far gone to stop now. My cock’s aching, leaking against my zipper, every muscle in me wound tight.
I grab her wrist, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before guiding her forward. “On your stomach, darlin’.”
Her eyes widen, lips parting like she wants to argue, but I don’t give her the chance. I flip her onto her belly, pinning her down against the sheets. She gasps, hair spilling wild around her face, ass arched up perfectly for me.
“Carter—” she whines, dramatic as hell.
“You made me crawl.” My voice is low, guttural, as I shove my jeans down just enough to free myself. I grip her hip with one hand, guiding my cock through her slick folds with the other. “Now I’m takin’ what’s mine.”
I slam into her in one hard thrust, burying myself to the hilt. Her cry tears through the room, muffled against the pillow, her back arching as I grind deep.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan, teeth clenched, pulling back slowly before driving into her again, harder. “So tight for me, always so damn tight.”
She claws at the sheets, nails tearing into the fabric, her moans spilling out with every rough thrust. “Oh my God.”
I grab her hair, fisting it just enough to yank her head back, my mouth at her ear. “You wanted to play, darlin’. Now you’re gettin’ fucked like you begged me for.”
Her body clenches around me, her cries sharp and wrecked as I pound into her, each thrust rocking the bed against the wall. Sweat drips down my chest, my grip iron on her hips as I drive harder, faster, chasing the sound of her sobbing my name.
“You’re mine,” I rasp, breath hot against her ear, punctuating every word with a thrust. “Mine to take, baby.”
She screams, her body breaking apart around me, her pussy fluttering tight as she comes again, soaking me. The feeling drags me over the edge, my hips snapping once, twice, before I spill deep inside her, groaning her name.
I collapse over her, kissing the back of her neck, still buried deep. My chest heaves, my lips brushing her damp skin as I whisper, softer now, “You drive me insane, Catalina. And I fuckin’ love you for it.”
Her body feels heavy with exhaustion, boneless against me as her breathing begins to steady. Sweat clings to her skin, damp strands of hair sticking to her cheeks and collarbone.
I slide one arm under her shoulders and the other beneath her knees. She stirs, sighing, but doesn’t open her eyes as I shift her weight against me.
Catalina’s sprawled across my chest, her hair damp with sweat, my hand stroking lazy circles into her back. She’s still catching her breath, but she hasn’t moved an inch since I pulled her into me.
“Carter?” Her voice is small, almost sleepy.
“Mm?”
She tilts her head just enough to look at me, eyes heavy but still brimming with that spark that destroys me every single time. “Promise me something.”
I brush my thumb across her shoulder, kissing her hairline. “Anything, darlin’.”
“Promise me it’ll always be like this.” Her lips curve into the faintest smile. “Wild. Messy. Us.”
Her words sit heavy in my chest. I look down at her, the woman who storms through my life like a hurricane and still manages to feel like home. My throat tightens, but I force the words out, rough and steady.
“It will be,” I whisper. “Forever wild, Catalina. That’s who we are.”
I know it’s the truth. She’ll always be dramatic, impossible, and loud as fuck.
But I’ll always be the man trying to keep her steady without ever dousing her fire.
That’s what love looks like for us.
Not polished or quiet. Raw, real, tangled in chaos and devotion.
I pull her closer into my arms, my lips pressed against her damp hair, breathing her in, because I’ll never get enough of her.
Forever wild. Forever mine.
THE END.