Chapter 27 #3
She didn't rush. She took her time, her mouth finding my tits, alternating between dragging her tongue across my nipples and catching them in sharp, demanding nips.
Fucking shit. I was so sensitive it hurt in the best possible way, each touch sending a jolt of electricity straight to my fucking core.
I didn't try to stifle the whimpers—Dr. Carter had made her expectations fucking clear—but I tried to keep them low, the terrifying, thrilling knowledge that my parents were just a floor away keeping my voice a hushed, jagged rasp.
Carrie moved down my body with a predatory grace. She didn’t hesitate for a fucking second, her face diving between my thighs. I felt the hot, wet slide of her tongue through my folds, and she let out a low, guttural groan at the taste of me.
"So sweet, Alex," she murmured against my skin, her breath hitching. "I've waited far too long for this."
The sensation was so fucking intense I instinctively threw my hand over my mouth to muffle a loud, sudden gasp.
Immediately, Carrie looked up, her eyes flashing with a stern, dark heat. "Hands down, Alex. I told you I wanted to hear you. Don't make me tell you again."
I whimpered, dropping my hand and clutching the sofa cushions instead, my knuckles white.
I bit my lip as she returned to her work, her tongue circling my clit with fucking agonising, teasing slowness.
She knew exactly how to fucking break me.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take the anticipation anymore, she gave me what I needed.
Her tongue flicked in and out of my core, laving up my arousal before she settled her mouth firmly over my clit, sucking with a rhythmic, possessive intensity. I saw fucking stars. My vision blurred as the world shrank down to the feeling of her mouth and the flickering blue light of the TV.
My body went taut, my back arching off the charcoal fabric as the climax hit me like a physical blow.
I couldn’t help it; my hands flew to her head, my fingers tangling in her dark, silky hair as I pulled her closer.
I groaned, a deep, primal sound that I struggled to keep quiet, my entire being fucking vibrating as I came hard on her tongue.
Carrie didn't pull away. She stayed right there, drinking me in, holding me through the aftershocks until I was nothing but a shivering, undone mess beneath her.
Shit.
The lounge was silent except for the low, festive hum of the television and the sound of my own ragged breathing.
Carrie dragged her tongue one last time across my skin, licking me clean with a slow, deliberate stroke that made my toes fucking curl.
She let out a low, dark groan of satisfaction against my thigh.
"So wet for me, princess," she murmured. "I can tell you’ve been thinking about this as much as I have.”
Fuck, I had.
She crawled back up my body, her silk shirt rustling as she settled between my knees. Her hair fell around us like a dark curtain, cutting off the rest of the world. The gaze she beveled at me was pure fucking predator—dark, hungry, and entirely devoid of the supportive persona she’d worn all week.
"I have been waiting far too long to use you," she said, her voice a lethal, low-octave rasp. Fuck, her saying it like that made me fucking wet all over again.
She stayed propped up above me on her elbows, her weight pinning me down just enough to make me feel small.
With one hand, she reached down and knocked my legs even wider, leaving me completely fucking open to her.
Her other hand trailed down my stomach, her fingertips light as air but burning like fire.
"You’ve been such a good girl tonight," she teased, her eyes locked on mine. "I think you can be even better. I think you can come for me again."
I didn't even have time to gasp before she slid two fingers fucking deep inside me.
I was so ready for her, so desperate after weeks of tension, that she penetrated me so easily.
I moaned, my hips bucking instinctively as I clenched around her, the friction sending a new wave of heat straight to my brain.
Carrie cooed happily at my reaction, a sound of genuine, possessive delight. "Yes, just like that. Give yourself to me, Alex."
She didn't give me a chance to adjust. She pulled her fingers out with a wet, sharp sound, only to immediately drive them back in—this time adding a third.
Fuck. The sudden stretch made my eyes fly wide, a sharp gasp escaping my lips as I felt the fullness of her.
It was too fucking much and not enough all at once.
"Shh," she commanded, leaning down to catch my gasp with her lips, her thumb finding my clit and beginning a merciless, rapid rhythm. "Don't stop now. I want to feel every single muscle in your body tighten around me."
I was completely fucking undone, my head thrashing against the plush new cushions.
The irony wasn't fucking lost on me—here I was, being taken apart by the most powerful woman I've ever known, on a sofa she bought, in a house she practically saved, while my parents slept soundly upstairs.
I was hers. In every single way a person could be, I was fucking hers.
I couldn’t stop the gasp escaping my throat as I moaned for her. "Fuck, Mommy…“
The air in the lounge suddenly felt ten degrees fucking colder, despite the heat radiating between our bodies. Carrie’s mouth froze against my skin, her tongue stilled right over my nipple. My heart wasn't just racing anymore; it was attempting to claw its way out of my fucking throat.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The word had barely been a syllable, a half-formed slip of the tongue fuelled by wine, Mia’s voice in my head, and the sheer, overwhelming weight of Carrie’s care this week. But in the silence of the room, it sounded like a gunshot. I was going to fucking murder Mia.
Carrie stayed frozen for what felt like a fucking eternity.
I could feel the tension radiating through her arms, her muscles locking like steel.
Then, very slowly, she peeled herself away from my chest. She didn't sit back; she loomed over me, her face inches from mine, her eyes two dark, bottomless pits of intensity.
"What," she whispered, the word vibrating with a low, dangerous frequency, "was that, Alex?"
"Nothing," I rasped, my voice cracking. "I... I tripped over my tongue. I’ve been drinking, Carrie. I didn't mean—"
"You didn't mean to call me Mommy?" She said the word with a clinical, terrifyingly fucking soft precision.
She shifted her weight, her hand moving gently from my core to lace around my throat.
She didn't squeeze, but the weight of her palm was a heavy, silent reminder of exactly who was in control. I could fucking feel my own wetness coating the skin on my neck. Her pupils were so blown out they’d swallowed the irises.
"Is that how you see me, princess?" she murmured, her voice dropping into a register I’ve never heard before—something darker, something that made my entire body turn to fucking liquid. "After I’ve spent the week taking care of your family? Stocking your cupboards? Buying the very furniture you’re currently spread out on?
You think I’m doing this because I want to be your parent? "
"No," I breathed, my eyes searching hers. "No, Dr. Carter, I just... I felt so looked after. I felt safe. I—"
What the fuck was I even saying?
"Safe," she repeated, a wicked, jagged little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. She leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of my ear. "You made a very bold choice, Alex. A very... provocative claim."
She bit my earlobe, hard enough to make me fucking hiss, before her hand slid back down between my thighs, her fingers re-entering me with a sudden, forceful depth that made my back arch completely off the sofa. Shit.
"If you wanted me to take care of you like that," she growled, her pace becoming relentless, "then you had better be prepared for the consequences. Because if I’m your Mommy, then you are going to be a very, very disciplined little girl for the rest of this holiday."
I felt a hot, dizzying rush of fucking shame and pleasure collide in my gut. I never thought I’d be this person. I never thought a single word could make my brain melt into a puddle of pure, unadulterated fucking need—but hearing it fall from her lips changed everything.
It was the way she fucking reacted. It was like that one illicit word unlocked a door inside of her, releasing a version of Dr. Carter that was even more possessive, even more consuming than before.
She kept her pace hard, her fingers driving into me with a rhythmic, punishing depth that had me fucking sobbing for release.
But every time I got close—every time my muscles started to quiver and the white light began to bleed into the corners of my vision—she slowed down.
I wanted to fucking scream. She stilled her hand, keeping her fingers buried deep inside me while her thumb merely grazed my clit, keeping me suspended right on the jagged edge of a cliff.
"Not yet," she murmured, her voice a dark, velvety command. "Look at me, Alex."
I forced my eyes open, my vision fucking swimming. She was watching me with a look of terrifyingly calm adoration.
"You don't get to go anywhere until I tell you to," she whispered, her hand twitching inside me, just enough to make me moan. "You’re going to be a good girl and control yourself. You’re going to stay right here on this edge for as long as I want. Do you understand?"
I nodded fucking frantically, my head thrashing against the cushion. "Yes... please, I—"
"Use your words, darling," she coaxed, her eyes sparkling with a wicked, maternal warmth that was so wrong it was fucking perfect. "Tell me you’ll stay right here. Tell me that’s what Mommy wants."
A splintered, high-pitched whimper escaped me. The word felt like a physical weight in my mouth, heavy and sweet. "It's... it's what Mommy wants," I rasped brokenly.