Page 37 of Back On Ice

His hand touches my cheek, and my eyes flutter open. I’m staring into the eyes ofmyCarter. My sweet, attentive, loving Carter. I tilt my face into his touch, and his lips capture mine in an all-consuming kiss.

Our lips move together slowly, matching the pace of his thrusts as Carter rolls into me.

“Angel,” he gasps against my mouth. “Fuck, you’re gripping me tight. I can’t hold back.”

“I don’t want you to,” I gasp on a cry, the sensations too much and not enough at the same time.

He sits back on his knees, pulling me with him so I’m straddling his lap, with my legs wrapped around his waist, and his palms hold me up by my ass.

A keening sound escapes me as he ups the pace, his agonizingly slow thrusts becoming almost frantic. My arms fling around his neck, holding on for dear life as he bucks up into me, his bare cock running along my sensitive walls.

“You feel so fucking good,” his voice is raspy as he breathes hard, holding me to him so tightly it’s like he’s afraid I’lldisappear, “I want to live in this perfect pussy for the rest of my life.”

His words fuel the fire growing in my body, and I’m approaching the edge of bliss as he repeatedly hits my g-spot. I can’t stop the sounds that escape me every time he buries himself completely inside me.

He presses his forehead against mine, and one hand moves from my ass to grip the back of my neck. With anyone else, the touch might feel controlling or stifling. With Carter though, I just feelsafe. Grounded.

His moans and gasps are enough to send me straight over the edge and my orgasm tears me apart, starting in the very base of my stomach and stretching outward until all I feel is pleasure..

“So—phie,” he grunts as he thrusts, then slows, a low groan leaving him as he empties himself inside me. We stay there, foreheads pressed together, breathing hard, before he

I’m a goner. I’m dead—this is how I die. Death by the best sex of my life.

His dick slides out of me as he moves to lay me on the bed before getting up. Is he… leaving? Shit. It’s not like I thought we’d betogetherafter this, but with his intensity, I thought he would at least stay to cuddle. My thoughts don’t have time to spiral any further because he disappears into the bathroom and reappears with a wet washcloth, positioning himself in between my legs.

“What are you…?” My words trail off as he stares at the cum dripping out of me, looking fascinated. With a small shake of his head, he wipes away the remains of our releases from my pussy, gentle in his touch.

With a small kiss to my mound, he tosses the washcloth into my hamper by the door, and crawls back into bed with me, settling us both under the covers.

Pulling me close and laying a gentle kiss to my forehead, I drift off to sleep. Me in his arms, and him, possibly worming his way back into my heart.

Chapter Sixteen

CARTER

“You’re still here.”Sophie’s voice comes from behind me, and I look over my shoulder at her. She’s adorably sleep-rumpled in a giant t-shirt and small sleep shorts, her hair a little crazy.

“I am,” I say with a raised brow, then turn back to fiddle with the coffee maker. I had thrown on the clothes I wore to the club last night, on the slim chance that Tom and Jordan came home earlier than expected. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know…”

I pour two mugs, then move to the fridge to pull out the coffee creamer.

Salted caramel cream. Of course.

I pour creamer in the mug until the coffee is the correct color, and make a matching one for myself. “When I woke up and saw you weren’t in bed, I just thought…” She trails off, uncertain, and it hits me. Her hesitation.

The last time we slept together, I was gone in the morning, and she didn’t see me for nine years. I imagine her waking upa few minutes ago to an empty bed, thinking the worst of me again.

I’m such an idiot. I should have stayed in bed until she woke up. Or woken her up with my head between her legs, giving her a taste of what life could be like for us now.

Last night was… amazing. Better than I had even dreamed. We’ve both grown and matured in the last decade, especially with our sexuality. As much as we’ve changed, we’re stillverycompatible in that category. Bringing her pleasure gave me more satisfaction than I had thought possible.

Before I can tell her I have no desire to leave her feeling alone again, she sits at the kitchen table, pulling the laptop there towards her. She’s acting a little fidgety, like she isn’t sure what to do with me here. Her eyes dart over to me, and she fiddles with the ends of her hair. The last thing that I want is to make her uncomfortable, but if me being here the morning after sex pushes her out of her comfort zone, well, maybe it’s just something she needs to get used to.

“Work?” I ask, tilting my head towards her laptop as I bring the mugs over to the table and sit across from her. The t-shirt she’s swimming in catches my eye. “Is that… is that one of my old shirts?”

I don’t know why I ask, it obviously is. It’s an Ivy Glen High Wolverines hockey shirt. Regardless, her cheeks turn a deep red as she flips her laptop open.

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