Chapter 12 - Carissa #3
My fingers slid down his slick chest, meeting his kiss with equal fervor and heat as I helped him shove them off, laughing a little when his ankle got tangled in the fabric under the water.
“Shit… wait…” he growled in frustration, then finally kicked free.
Neither of us bothered watching as our clothes floated to the other side of the tub. I didn’t know about him, but I was too preoccupied with the sight of him naked, fully erect and magnificent, silhouetted against the terrace lights. It was almost enough to make me come right there.
He dipped back into the water, his movements deliberate.
Strong hands gripped my hips and pulled me back to the center of the tub where the jets were strongest. He turned me, my back to his front, and nestled me between his legs.
The warm, churning water caressed me everywhere, but it was nothing compared to the feel of his dick pressed against the small of my back.
His mouth moved to my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there while one hand slid around my waist, other palm flat against my stomach to hold me firmly against him.
His hand drifted lower, down into the water, his fingers sliding with an agonizing slowness that made me give a whiny little moan that would’ve embarrassed me if I weren’t so goddamn horny.
“Boone… please...”
“Please what?” he murmured against my ear, his voice a velvety rumble. “You’ll have to be specific. I can’t do anything until you tell me exactly what you want.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but his fingertips brushed against my clit, a feather-light, torturous stroke. Despite my stubbornness, I heard myself pleading with him instead.
“I want— I need you to touch me,” I breathed, my head falling back against his shoulder, body arching into his hand.
“I am touching you.”
“No. More.”
His low laughter sent another ripple of arousal coursing through me. “As you wish.”
He gave up the tease instantly. One finger, then two, slid into me, and I cried out, the sound swallowed by the New York skyline. He curled them in a come hither motion, finding that perfect spot with an accuracy that was diabolical, while the pad of his thumb made tight circles over my clit.
The dual assault was devastating. My hips rocked against his hand, meeting his rhythm thrust for thrust. The world narrowed to the steam, the terrace lights, and my own ragged panting.
Pleasure coiled low in my belly, a spring wound to its breaking point.
His breath came hot on my ear, whispers of filth and praise that pushed me even higher.
“That’s it. Let go. I want to feel you come apart right here in my hand.”
My climax tore through me with the force of a tidal wave.
On command, as if to confirm who was really in control.
My body seized, a silent scream on my lips as white-hot ecstasy radiated from my pussy, rocking me to my very core.
The pulsating water seemed to echo the contractions that gripped his fingers, milking the last shuddering waves of pleasure from me.
I went limp against him, boneless and sated, my lungs fighting for air. He held me through it, his arms a solid anchor in the liquid warmth. Gently, he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and tasting me with a low, appreciative groan.
“Better than caviar,” he whispered.
Then he turned me in his arms to face him, his eyes burning with unchecked desire. He was still painfully hard against my thigh when he kissed me, deep and slow, letting me taste the remnants of myself on his tongue.
“My turn,” he growled, his voice thick with need.
He hoisted me effortlessly, the water swirling in chaotic waves around us, its warmth a stark contrast to the cool night air kissing my exposed skin.
My legs tightened around his waist as he positioned me, the slick, swollen head of his cock pressing against my entrance with an intent that made me shudder.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and I felt it rumble through my body.
My eyes, heavy with the aftershocks of my first climax, fluttered open. Lights and fire swam in his eyes, a universe of stars held captive there. The effect was utterly intoxicating, and swept me into another wave of pleasure that I couldn’t fight.
With a slow, relentless push, he filled me. No warning. No more waiting. And the stretch was everything. A perfect, burning fullness that made me gasp, my head falling forward to his shoulder. The steam from the water curled around us, forming a fog of unbridled passion.
“Boone...” His name was a prayer, a curse, a plea on my lips.
He didn’t move at first, letting me feel every inch of him buried deep inside me. Water lapped at my back in a liquid caress against my burning skin. He held me there, suspended in the water, filled with his hard cock.
Finally, he moved.
Slowly, a deliberate pull almost all the way out, the water rushing into the space he left behind. The shocking coolness was quickly erased by searing heat as he thrust back in. A low moan tore from my throat, echoing softly across the terrace.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips against my temple. “Let me hear you. Let the whole fucking city know who you belong to tonight.”
Gradually, the rhythm started to build, each powerful thrust of his hips jolting through me, making the water slosh and churn around us.
My fingers dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders, my nails leaving faint, crescent moons on his damp skin.
The sensation was overwhelming. The solid, unyielding strength of him inside me, the buoyant, shifting support of the water, the cool air on my face and the steam in my lungs.
He shifted his grip, one arm wrapping around my back to hold me secure while the other hand slid between our wet bodies. His thumb found my clit, already hyper-sensitive from before, and began to circle it with a tortuously perfect pressure.
“Oh, God,” I cried out before I could stop myself.
“No, this is all me,” he moaned, a dark, sexy laugh fluttering in his chest.
His thrusts became harder, deeper, each one hitting the spot inside me that made me see stars. The dual stimulation was both too much and not enough. My hips moved against his, meeting every drive and making me desperate for more, for everything.
Nothing else existed in my world. Only the slick push of his cock, the smooth friction of his chest against my sensitive nipples, the relentless circles of his thumb.
Every nerve ending screamed with pleasure.
The water wasn’t just around us anymore; it felt like it was inside me, a liquid fire mingling with the heat he was stoking in my pussy.
“I can feel you,” he groaned, his own control fraying. His movements grew less controlled, more frantic. “I can feel you tightening around me, Carissa. So fucking perfect. So ready for me.”
Those words were the final blow to my restraint.
The coil of pressure in my abdomen wound impossibly tight, wires ready to snap.
I could feel the tension in his body, the striking control he was fighting to maintain for my sake.
Pressing my forehead to his, I looked into his eyes, seeing the raw, unfiltered need to come undone.
“Come with me,” I whispered against his lips.
That seemed to be his undoing. A guttural, primal sound tore from his throat.
His thumb pressed down hard on my clit just as he drove into me one last, devastating time, burying himself inside me.
My orgasm exploded through me in a cataclysm of pure ecstasy that radiated outward to every extremity of my body.
I trembled in his arms, his name falling from my lips over and over as I blinked the haze from my eyes.
My body convulsed around him, internal muscles squeezing his cock to ride out his own climax.
He groaned against my neck as his cock pulsed and twitched, his release a hot, answering flood that sent another, smaller shockwave through me.
He held me tightly against him as we rode the waves of it together, our harsh breaths the only sound besides the gentle lap of the water slowly calming around us.
The water was still warm, but a shiver ran through me. His arms tightened, and he nuzzled my neck, his lips warm against my damp skin.
“You’re shaking.” His voice was thick and husky with spent passion.
“Mhmm. So are you,” I rasped, dragging my lips lazily across his cheek.
His only response was a smile as he crossed the tub to settle us on the bench again. He shifted me gently until I was curled in his lap, my head against his shoulder, his arms snaking back around me.
By the time my pulse evened out, the air had cooled further, making me shiver despite the heat from the hot tub and the man pressed against me. Neither of us wanted to move immediately, though, both too comfortable where we were.
Eventually, Boone stirred, glancing toward the soft white towels folded neatly on a nearby lounger. “As much as I’m enjoying our soak, I think the night air is plotting its revenge.”
My smile was tired, but amused. “Time to go back?”
He didn’t answer. Or rather, he didn’t answer with words.
All he did was rise smoothly from the hot tub with me in his arms, water washing from our bodies.
I curled into him reflexively, searching for his heat to cocoon me as he carried me over to the lounger.
My only complaint was when he set me on my feet long enough to wrap me in one of the towels, ignoring his own cold.
“Thank you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he said softly, rubbing warmth back into my shoulders.
I couldn’t help looking at him, completely, shamelessly naked, dripping water onto the wooden deck, and looking like he couldn’t care less.
His hair was a wreck, there were faint scratches on his skin from my nails that I didn’t quite remember making.
My eyes drifted toward the hot tub where our clothes still floated, occasionally battered by the jets.
I huffed a laugh.
“What?” he asked, amusement edging his tone.
“You’re a mess.”
He followed my gaze toward the tub, then down at himself before giving me a crooked smile that made my heart flip. “Yeah, well, I make it look good.”
“That you do.”
Wrapping a towel around his hips, he settled on the lounger and gave my hand a gentle tug so I’d join him.
“Shouldn’t we head back in?” My refusal was half-hearted at best. “Dawson and Gage are probably back by now.”
“I don’t want to cuddle with Dawson and Gage, though.” He gave another tug.
This time I gave in, and sank onto the lounger with him, nuzzling close. I rested my head against his shoulder, still slick with heat and water, letting the quiet stretch between us feel like its own kind of satisfaction.