Page 105 of All The Happily Ever Afters

He grips my ass, pinning me down and continues to suck and lick and dive his tongue inside of me as the waves build and the pressure mounts and then finally, all at once and so much fasterthan I expect it to, pleasure erupts inside of me. Rolling from the tips of my fingers down my body and back up again.

With my heavy breathing making my chest rise and fall, I stare up at Carter, ready to apologize for biting into the berry. But he doesn’t give me the chance.

My beast of a husband parts my legs wider and thrusts himself inside of me without warning, to the hilt. My palms hit the ground as my back bows and the orgasm I thought had subdued rages inside of me, growing hotter with every pounding thrust of his hips.

“Carter!” I scream out, feeling the overwhelming loss of control as he pistons himself inside of me.

“Yes,” the word falls from his lips as a hiss and he drops his body to lay across mine, although his forearm, braced above my head, supports his weight. “Cry out for me, Aria. Scream my name.”

Losing all sense of control, my heels dig into his ass and my hips tilt, letting him fuck me deeper and harder as I scream out his name like he told me to and like everything inside of me wants to do.

He’s ruthless and relentless as he takes me, fucking me until we find our release together.

Lying beside him, I wince when I turn over, still feeling him inside of me. “I bit the strawberry.” I whisper and the small admission awards me a chuckle from the spent man beside me. Deep and masculine and everything Carter is.

With a wicked smile he stares down at me, “I’ll prepare for your punishment tonight.”

I can only smile back, so aware that it would be impossible not to keep the strawberry where it was while he did what he did to me. He can play these games, he can lead me wherever he deems fit, and I will follow loving every step of the way.

“I love you Carter Cross.”

“And I love you, my songbird.”

To experienceCarter and Aria’s story from the beginning, read Merciless today!

A SINGLE NIGHT

A bonus scene from Jase & Bethany’s Irresistible Attraction Trilogy

CHAPTER 1

“Does it scare you?”

Does it scare me? Does the fire licking along my skin scare me?

Not like he scares me. It’s not a fear of who he is or what he could do to me. The fear is deeply rooted in the knowledge that I lose myself around him. That the background fades to blackness and all I can see is his masculine physique.

“No,” I dare to whisper. It’s so quiet in the vacant room, that all I can hear is the click and then the hiss of a tender flame that grows larger and then brighter, the lit candle coming to life.

Stripped down to nothing, lying against the leather, I wait for him with baited breath.

My skin is already sensitized, the edge of knife he used to shave down my body made sure of that. The blade glints from the simple steel cart behind him. Everything he needs for his fire play hides away in that drawer.

“Not like it did at first,” I admit a truth and the innocence of it doesn’t escape me.

With the candle in his right hand, his left caresses the pinkish skin of my waste. “Even if there was so little, it would singe,” hespeaks as he trails his fingertips from the curve, up to my belly and then lower.

He prefers a knife to a razor and a candle for a flame. First he strips me, leaves me here in the chill of his absence, and then it begins.

As his fingers slip lower, past my belly and even farther still, his satisfied groan disrupts the heavy breathing that’s lingered between us. “Already wanting me,” he comments as the tip of his blunt nails slip down my most sensitive nub.

“Part of me wants to be selfish.” His tone is even, deep and with the soothing cadence that calms me. His thumb slowly, teasingly, spreads me and then moves back to that most sensitive place, where he spreads my arousal. The spike of heat and want stir in the pit of my stomach, the desire escaping me in a gasp that parts my lips. “Part of me,” he continues as he reaches for the ethanol, “doesn’t even want to play tonight.”

My voice is strained and it takes great effort to open my eyes and meet his soft gaze. I swear the vulnerability that shines in the bright light of the flame wasn’t there days ago. It echoes back to me now, making my throat dry as I remind him, “Whatever it is, the clock is running.”

Wherever the alcohol is placed, the flame will dance. The fuel of it, the trail placed on my skin, dries so quickly, licked clean by the bright light, that it’s only a flash. Only a moment of the heat that threatens to burn.

The air between us thickens and the flame drops and the bead of wax drips slightly. Gripping the table harder, my back arches and the sudden heat is met with my moan.

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