Page 53 of Defensive Zone

I pinch his nipple. “Right back ’atcha.”

“Fuck.” He slaps my hand away and rubs over his pec. “I know I have no right to be jealous, but I am. Is that bad?”

“Is it weird I kinda like your jealousy?” I card my fingers through his curls. I love that his hair is getting longer. “As long as it’s not coming from a place of distrust, I kinda dig it.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No, I do trust you, implicitly. I just…” He pauses, and his eyes bore into mine, almost like he’s hoping to find the right words. “I’ve always felt very possessive of you, but you remember that couple in Hawaii? I wanted to rip their hands off when they touched you, and I know I shouldn’t have felt that way at the time, but you’remine,and even back then I knew I didn’t want anyone touching what’s mine.”

Sliding my hand around his head to cup his cheek, I bring his face to mine, nipping his bottom lip between my teeth before kissing him again.

“I am yours. I’ve always been yours, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He answers by pushing his tongue into my mouth, and I groan.

“And I’m yours. All yours,” he mumbles between kisses.

“Good. Now get me ready, Lockwood. I’m going to need a lot of prep to take your big cock.”

His grin is wicked as he sits back on his haunches and slowly jerks himself.

“Damn right,” he says with a cocky wink.

Bending one knee to my chest, Carter kneels between my thighs and lifts my other leg, pressing it toward my chest. He rubs lubed fingers in slow circles around my rim, flicking his eyes between my hole and my face. A shuddering breath whooshes out of me as he presses one finger inside.

“You okay?” he asks, halting his movements.

“Yeah,” I rasp. “Keep going.”

He eases his finger in further and a low groan rumbles in my chest as pleasure ripples through me. He thrusts his finger in and out in slow, controlled movements until he breaches the rings of muscle, and his knuckles are pressed up against my skin.

“Holy shit. You’re so tight,” he gasps, curling his finger inside me.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as he brushes my prostate. I came less than ten minutes ago, but the ache in my balls grows stronger as he works me over. One finger becomes two, and before I know it, he’s three fingers deep, and my cock is a steel bar against my thigh again.

I’m rocking against him, seeking him out with every thrust of his fingers.

“Carter,” I beg, my nails digging into my skin as I try to keep hold of my knee. “I need you.”

He removes his fingers, and I whimper at the loss. His hand trembles slightly with nerves as he rolls the condom on his cock and covers himself with lube before adding more to my hole. He tosses the bottle to the floor and moves up the bed, resting my ankle on his shoulder and lining up his cock.

But he doesn’t push in right away.

His breath hitches as he takes me in. Starting at my face, his gaze makes its way down my torso to where my cock rests heavy against my heated skin. It throbs under his watchful eye, before moving further down to where the head of his cock is pressing against my stretched hole. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips, and when his eyes land back on mine, there’s a slight flush to his cheeks.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

I want to argue with him that he’s the beautiful one here. That I thought he was beautiful the first moment I saw him, and I thought it every day since, but I can’t speak. I can barely breathe from the thick emotion threatening to burst from inside me.

I’ve wanted this for so long. Craved it, even. I’ve imagined this moment so many times that it was the only fuel I needed to make myself come.

And now that it’s actually happening, I could cry.

But it’s not the time to get emotional, not when my body is humming with the familiar burn as Carter slowly starts to sink his cock inside me. Despite the fact that Carter had three fingers inside me, I wasn’t kidding when I said he’sbig.

Planting his hands on either side of my head, he watches intently as he slowly slides his cock in and out. There’s a slight furrow in his dark brows as he concentrates, sweat beading at his hairline, and his parted lips allow quiet whimpers to escape as he moves his hips in shallow thrusts.

“Carter,” I pant. “You feel so fucking good, but I need you to move. You don’t need to go easy on me.”

His eyes lock onto mine, seeking my approval to know he isn’t going to mess this up. I give a small nod, and it’s all it takes for him to move. It’s like the tightly strung band he was holding on to snaps. His hips piston into me, switching it up between short, erratic thrusts and slow, long drags that have my toes curling. His cock pegs my prostate every time, and I’ve never felt so fucking full in my life.

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