26. Two Days Until Bonding #3
With my hands on his shoulders, I climb into his lap and center myself over his tip. My body demands speed, desperate to claim release, but I ignore it and ease down. Every inch stretches me. All my focus goes to the sensation of him entering me, the way my body wraps around him.
When I’m finally seated on him as deep as I can go, I hold still for a beat, absorbing the way he swells inside me, how his chest heaves against mine. He fills every hollow place the dagger left behind, replacing polished steel with living heat.
I tip my head back with a long moan.
Carrson bends forward and presses his mouth to my throat. His tongue moves over the skin above my racing pulse, followed by the soft drag of his lips.
“Ich liebe dich,” he murmurs.
The unfamiliar words mix with his breath, warming my skin as I begin to move.
I want to ask what they mean, but pleasure is already rebuilding, deeper than before.
I brace my hands on his shoulders and rise, feeling every ridge of him drag through me before I lower myself again.
I move in drawn-out strokes, keeping my pelvis close so every descent rubs my clit against him, stimulating me higher and higher.
“I want you so badly,” I breathe, bending closer to kiss him. “All the time.”
“Te quiero.” He drives his hips upward, forcing a cry from my mouth.
We move faster, separating only to come together again, our breath mingling in the narrow space between us. He seals his lips over mine, stealing my air and leaving me dizzy, using his mouth to bridge the distance his hands cannot.
“Ti amo,” he whispers against my mouth.
My legs begin to shake. My fingers knot in his shirt, feeling the muscles tense under the fabric.
“Let me go.” Carrson leans forward until his back leaves the chair. “Please.”
I hesitate.
“Wǒ ài nǐ.”
The words reach somewhere deeper than the others, awakening the memory of the road trip we took, the dark highway and his voice nearly lost under the hum of tires.
I don’t know what he said then.
I don’t know what he’s saying now.
But I know it matters.
“Yes,” I breathe. “You can touch me.”
A soft snap sounds behind him, the ribbon breaking in two.
Carrson’s arms close around me. One hand slides up my ribs, and I flinch. His fingers find the edge of the brand, and I can’t hold back my whimper. He traces around it, never over the raw skin, mapping the hurt.
“It’s okay. I won’t touch it.” He lowers both hands to my waist and holds them there, as though he has spent every restrained heartbeat deciding exactly where he will put them once I set him free.
He grips my hips and lifts me higher than I could rise on my own.
Then he pulls me down.
The force drives him deeper than I thought possible.
My cry rings out against his mouth.
He does it again, his hands controlling my body now.
He pulls me up, brings me down.
Up. Down.
Over and over.
My orgasm climbs so fast and intense it almost hurts.
It builds and then crests as I come screaming for him, my body bending in endless waves that overtake every other sensation, that drown out every thought.
Carrson holds me against him, forcing me to feel every pulse of the orgasm around the hard length buried inside me.
“Yes. Fuck.” His lips are at my throat. “So good, Laurel.”
His arms clamp around me. “I love you.”
The confession is almost lost under my cry.
“God, I love you so much.”
His body locks beneath mine, his release pumping deep inside me while he buries his face against my neck.
For several breaths, I can’t think beyond the waves moving through me and the fierce beat of his heart against mine.
Then the words separate themselves from everything else. They come echoing back to me.
I pull away so I can see his face. “Did you just say you love me?”
Carrson lifts his head. His hands shake as he brushes tangled curls away from my face. He lowers his forehead toward mine and peers into my eyes.
“I’ve been trying to tell you every way I know.”
“Really?” I ask, as joy spills into my veins like sunshine, so bright I don’t dare believe it.
“Of course.” His thumb travels across my cheek, catching a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “It’s you and me, Tiger. Us against the world.”
His thumb slows, then stops against my cheek. “You don’t have to say it back. I understand if—”
The rest disappears into a muffled grunt when I throw my arms around his neck.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” I’m crying now, tears spilling hot down my cheeks as I stumble over the words in my haste to get them out. There aren’t enough words, enough minutes, enough years to give Carrson Ashford everything I feel for him.
He’s told me he loves me in every language he knows.
I only need one.
So I say it again and again.
“I love you.”
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