Page 117 of The Dollhouse

“So it is true, then.” Above me, I saw hands gripping the railing, and I knew Wyatt had backed up, away from Willow. They were definitely his hands, not hers. “How could you do that to your own sister? Doesn’t being family mean you’re supposed to be there for each other?”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Willow said. “It wasn’t like Itriedto steal him from her.”

“And that’s supposed to make it okay? Willow, what you did… I can’t even think about it. It’s wrong. And you’re here acting like it was no big deal. You messed Zoey up bad. You betrayed your sister in the worst possible way.”

“And now Zoey’s trying to steal you from me—”

“But I’m not yours,” Wyatt interrupted. “I don’t belong to you. We were talking, Willow, that’s it. We weren’t dating. We were just friends.”

“Well, I wanted more than that.”

“And I didn’t,” Wyatt was quick to come back with, and I smiled to myself. This conversation between them was going better than I hoped it would. Hell, it was pretty much a fuck you to Willow. I thought I’d have to do a lot more flirting and winning over of Wyatt before he officially chose me over her.

But look at me now, grinning like an idiot because my plan worked. I’d taken Wyatt from Willow before she even had the chance to have him, and I couldn’t help but feel a little wicked inside. I wasn’t a good girl anymore. We all knew that. The old Zoey was dead, and the new Zoey wanted nothing more than to fuck shit up in Hillcrest before she left it forever—and at this rate, I’d say it was going pretty damn well.

I didn’t stay to hear the rest of the talk; I knew it was winding down, and I had to get rid of Carter. If I knew my sister like I thought I did, she wouldn’t exactly give up Wyatt at the first sign of rejection. Her head was too far up her own ass; she’d never truly believe someone would ever deny her, so she’d keep at him, which meant I had to keep Wyatt close for the remainder of my time here in Hillcrest. A sacrifice I was willing to make.

Heading through the back door, I found Carter standing near the chair I’d sat in before my sister had shown up and thought she had this in the bag. By the time I reached his side, I was still smiling ear to ear, like the cat that swallowed the canary.

Carter turned around when I walked up, and he noticed the smile I wore. “I take it the talk went well, then?” I could tell he didn’t really care, but in a way, he kind of did, otherwise he wouldn’t still be here.

“Better than I could’ve imagined,” I said, feeling so smug and satisfied with myself I had the sudden urge to feel skin on mine. And with Carter here, well, there’d never been a man better than Carter that could perform with a snap of your fingers.

I grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the chairs, off the patio. Away from where Wyatt would return to in search of me. I pulled us around the side of the fraternity house, pushing Carter’s wide, strong frame against the brick wall, running my hands up and down his body.

“Think you could go for a quickie?” I purred out, knowing the moment I’d started touching him, his cock had begun to stir.

Carter grunted. “Is that a trick fucking question?” His strong hands found my upper arms, curling around them the moment before he spun me, so that I was now the one pinned against the house. Those same hands found my shirt, yanking it up to expose my bra. They went straight for my tits, pawing at them beneath the smooth fabric of my bra, tweaking my nipples and making me squirm. “I’m always ready to be inside you,” he breathed out. “The real question is, do you only want to get fucked right now because you can’t have Wyatt?”

I moaned, and that moan was a response to his toying with my tits, not from what he’d said. I didn’t want Wyatt. Why was that so hard for him to believe? I was using Wyatt, that’s it. He was nice, sure; he kind of reminded me of Lake, but that didn’t mean I wanted to yank down his pants and have at him like a sex-crazed fanatic.

“I don’t want him,” I whispered, “I want you, so get that dick out and get it in me, Carter.” If he didn’t do it this very moment, I swore to God, I’d push him off and walk away. This was supposed to be a quickie, not a prolonged fuck against the frat house. Come on.

That was all Carter needed. His hands dropped to my leggings, yanking them down with a harsh movement of his arms, and then he undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and whipped out his cock. The monstrous thing stood straight and ready, and I felt my core heat up as I gazed down at it.

Yes, God, yes. Stick that thing in me and make me stop feeling so bad about leading Wyatt on.

Carter grabbed the base of his cock, and his legs had to spread quite a bit to accommodate the height difference between us. But we made it work. Within the next few moments, that magnificent cock filled me up, pushing away all thoughts of anything else.

My head fell back to the brick behind me, a little hard, but I’d take any amount of pain with my pleasure. I didn’t care. Hurt me, fuck me; as long as Carter made me feel, I didn’t care. His hips picked up a quick rhythm, and I tried to be quiet as he fucked me. It was difficult, though. So very difficult.

Eventually, I gave up trying to stifle the sounds, letting my cries fill the air. I didn’t care if someone heard us. The night air lent us some privacy, but then again, I also didn’t care if I was seen. Showing off was definitely a kink of mine I’d never known existed, not until I’d met Roman, anyways.

Carter’s low grunts filled the air with my moans. Together we made such sexy sounds. My core clamped down on his length. It was like I could feel it prodding my stomach, for fuck’s sake. Having him inside me was like being full, being completed, and I had to close my eyes to revel in the sensation.

I bit my bottom lip as Carter’s pace quickened. Every time I thought he was going at me as hard and as fast as he could he proved me wrong. Carter could always go harder, always faster. The man was up for a challenge, and I was here for it.

Maybe it was in my imagination, but I could’ve sworn I heard someone calling out my name. I was too sex-addled to realize it might be Wyatt looking for me on the patio area, too lost in Carter and the feel of his cock plunging into my core to comprehend it. All I wanted right now was to be fucked, and Carter was doing a damned good job, like always. I swore, his skill was unrivaled.

I turned my head to the side, my eyelids cracking open just a hair, and Carter’s body took on a brutal pace, causing me to cry out loudly. It must’ve been loud enough for other people to hear, because after a few more moments, someone rounded the back corner of the house. Whether it was Wyatt looking for me or someone else, I couldn’t tell. Carter thrust too hard, my vision useless. All I saw was a shape of a person in the shadows—and honestly, that’s what that person probably saw too, when he looked at us.

Though it had to be quite obvious what we were doing.

Carter must’ve noticed how my head had turned, for he glanced over his shoulder, not relenting in his fucking of me as he did so. His voice growled out, low and dangerous, “It seems we have a voyeur that isn’t Roman.” He sounded like he wanted to kill whoever it was, end them for daring to look upon us while we were getting hot and heavy.

I slapped his chest, my fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt as I forced him to look back at me. “Let ‘em watch,” I murmured. Let the whole world watch. I wasn’t shy. Putting on a show came as second nature to me. “Fuck me, Carter. Fuck me hard.”

Carter’s strong chest rumbled with what sounded like a growl, animalistic and primal, and though he might not agree with putting on a show to anybody who wanted to watch, he did just that. He returned his focus to my body, to his cock, and when I tightened my inner walls on his length, his whole body shuddered.

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