Chapter 35 #3
The worst part was the movement of her hand.
She slowly—fucking painfully slowly—withdrew her fingers from my cheek.
The loss of her touch felt like a physical blow, a confirmation of the rejection I was already spiralling toward.
I stared at my lap, watching the flickering orange light from the fireplace dance across my shaking hands, wishing I could just fucking vanish into the upholstery.
"Alex," she said, her voice so low it was barely a breath.
"Don't," I choked out, my voice cracking. "Don't say it. I know. It's too fast, it's weird, I'm just some student and you're... you. I shouldn't have said it. I'm drunk and stupid and I—"
"Alex, look at me."
It wasn't a suggestion; it was that quiet, unshakable command she used when she needed total compliance. I slowly lifted my head, my vision blurred by the next wave of tears I was fighting to hold back.
Carrie wasn't looking at me with pity, or even shock anymore. Her eyes were shimmering, her pupils blown so wide they’d nearly swallowed the irises. She looked... unanchored. Like I’d just handed her something she had spent her whole life convinced she’d never hold.
"I froze," she whispered, her voice trembling—a sound I had never heard from her.
"I froze because I have spent forty years building a life where I never had to hear those words. Where I was safe from them. And in five minutes, in a room full of ridiculous balloons, you’ve just dismantled everything. "
She reached out again, her hands shaking as she took my face in hers, her thumbs wiping away the dampness on my cheeks.
"I have been in love with you since the moment you looked me in the eye and refused to be intimidated by me," she breathed, her forehead dropping to rest against mine. "And I have been terrified of it every single day since."
I finally breathed, but the air felt different then—thicker, heavier, charged with a reality I wasn't prepared for.
I had braced myself for a lecture, for a gentle "let's be realistic" talk, or even a cold fucking dismissal.
I hadn't pictured this. I didn't think there was a version of that night where Carrie Carter, the woman who commanded every room she entered, would look at me with tears in her eyes and tell me she was terrified because she loved me too.
Not only that but she had since the fucking start.
What the fuck did this mean? Was this just... it? We just got to be together? We got to love each other without the armour and the power plays? The weight of it was overwhelming.
"For goodness sake," I groaned, desperately trying to wipe away the fresh heat on my cheeks. I tried to pull back, my pride flaring up through the vulnerability. "I don't cry. I’m not a crier, Carrie. This is—this is the drink. It’s the stupid balloons."
But Carrie didn't let me retreat. Her grip on my waist tightened, and she pulled me back into her space, refusing to let me hide. She leaned in until our noses were touching, her dark gaze searching mine with a desperate, raw intensity that made the rest of the room fade into a blur.
"Alex," she whispered, her voice cracking in a way that made my heart fucking swell until it hurt. "Please. Say it again."
She sounded like she was starving for it. Like those three words were the only thing keeping her upright.
I took a shaky breath, my hands finding the lapels of her open robe, clutching the silk like a lifeline. I looked into those dark, shimmering eyes and let the last of my defences crumble.
"I love you," I said, my voice steadier this time, certain and deep. "I love you, Carrie. So much it’s fucking terrifying."
A broken, relieved sound escaped her throat—half-laugh, half-sob—and she crushed her lips to mine.
This wasn’t like our other kisses; there was no performance here, no "Dr. Vixen" playing a role.
It was just Carrie. It was hungry, desperate, and so full of honest devotion that I felt it in my bones.
She pulled back just an inch, her hands moving to the back of my neck, her forehead resting against mine as we both breathed each other in.
"I have you," she murmured, more to herself than me. "I actually have you."
I kissed her again, but this time there was no hesitation.
It was fierce, demanding, and possessive.
Because fuck, she really did have me, and for the first time in my life, I never wanted to leave.
We deepened the kiss, our movements turning frantic as the relief of the mutual confession boiled over into pure, unadulterated heat.
The weight of those words was still vibrating between us, pooling low and desperate in my gut. "Carrie," I whispered against her lips, the name sounding like a plea.
In one effortless, fluid motion, Carrie scooped me off the sofa and hauled me up against her, locking my legs around her hips. A sharp gasp hitched in my throat, melting into a stunned smirk as she supported my full weight with terrifying, effortless ease. God, she was so fucking strong.
She started moving out of the lounge, but as we reached the base of the staircase, she paused.
She popped me down on the first step, a breathless, beautiful laugh escaping her.
"As much as I’d love to carry you all the way, I’d rather not ruin this moment by tumbling down the stairs," she joked, her eyes bright with a joy I'd never seen before.
I just laughed, my heart light and soaring, and grabbed her hand. We practically ran the rest of the way to her bedroom. The second we were inside, Carrie shut the door and turned the lock with a decisive click.
I didn't give her a second to breathe. I launched myself at her, pinning her back against the dark wood of the door and claiming her lips again. "I love you," I whispered desperately against her skin, punctuating the words with sharp, hungry kisses. "I love you."
Carrie sighed—a sound of pure, happy surrender—and murmured it back into the crook of my neck. "I love you too, Alex. More than I can put into words."
Before I could respond, she hooked her arms under my thighs and hoisted me up again, carrying me the few steps to the bed. She tossed me onto the mattress, and I landed right in the centre of the rose-petal heart I had spent so fucking long perfecting.
I started to chuckle at the irony, but the sound died in my throat when Carrie crawled over me.
She loomed above me for a heartbeat, looking at me with such raw, undisguised devotion that I felt it in my marrow.
Then she sank down, pinning me with her weight and pressing hot, branding kisses down the length of my neck.
Her hands were frantic as they explored the red lace of my lingerie. She stripped the silk robe from my shoulders, tossing it into the shadows, before shrugging out of her own.
Carrie let out a low, predatory growl as her eyes locked onto the small, delicate bows at the hips of my lace thong.
She didn't have the patience for sliding fabric down legs; instead, she caught the silk ribbons between her fingers and tugged.
The lace unravelled instantly, and she tossed the scrap of red fabric into the darkness without even bothering to unclip the garter straps.
My body was strung so tight I felt like a wire about to snap, vibrating with a cocktail of newfound love and agonising arousal. I managed a breathless, shaky smirk. "I thought... I thought you'd like that."
"I like everything about you tonight," Carrie muttered, her voice thick and dark. "But I like you best like this. Unwrapped."
I didn't even have time to process the look in her eyes before she moved.
She didn't bother with a fucking slow preamble or gentle teasing; she dived between my legs with a desperate, starving intensity.
When her tongue made firm, branding contact, the world behind my eyelids turned into a kaleidoscope of white light.
"Fuck, Carrie!" I gasped out, my back arching off the mattress as my legs fell open wider, surrendering every bit of territory to her.
She didn't slow down. Her hands gripped my thighs, her fingers digging into my skin to anchor me as she devoured me.
It was a frantic, rhythmic assault that mirrored the confession we had just shared—honest, raw, and completely fucking overwhelming.
Every muscle in my body was electrified, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs that matched the pace of her tongue.
The scent of the roses on the bed cloyed in the air, mixing with the salt of my skin and the heat of the woman currently worshipping me.
I reached down, my fingers tangling in her hair, not to pull her away, but to hold her there, to ground myself as the first wave of a massive, bone-shaking climax started to build deep in my core.
"Don't stop," I sobbed out, my head thrashing against the pillows. "Carrie, please, don't you dare stop."
Carrie let out a low, deep groan against me, the vibration shuddering through my entire frame and making my toes curl into the mattress.
As if that wasn't enough to fucking shatter me, she reached a hand up, her fingers expertly teasing my nipples, twisting just enough to send a direct electric current straight to my core.
It was devastatingly fast. My vision went white, and I gasped as the release hit me like a freight train, my body bucking as I coated her tongue. Carrie didn't pull away; she dived back in, drinking me in as the aftershocks rolled through my muscles, leaving me twitching and breathless.
I was gasping for air, my brain struggling to process the sheer fucking intensity of what had just happened.
As Carrie finally pulled back, her breathing was just as fucking ragged as mine. She sat up slightly, a stray lock of hair falling over her face as she wiped her chin with the back of her hand, her eyes dark and glowing with a frighteningly beautiful fire.