Page 40 of No Save Point

His jaw clenches. His hands flex. It’s hesitant at first, careful, like he’s still waiting for me to tell him if he’s doing it right, but the second his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my leggings, I feel his breath hitch against my skin.

I help him, lifting my hips slightly, letting him slide them down, his hands warm and steady as he helps me out of them, as he sees exactly how much I want this. I’m about to say something, about to tell him to relax, to take his time, to just feel, but then his hand is slipping between my thighs, and every thought I had completely disappears.Oh, fuck.

His touch is careful, so careful, but when his fingertips brush over me, when he feels how soaking wet I already am for him, his entire body goes rigid beneath me, his breath leaving him in a sharp, unsteady exhale.

And then in the softest, hottest voice I have ever fucking heard come out of his mouth, he says it. “F-fuck, Haven… you’re fucking dripping for me.”

I almost whimper. Because that, was not expected. Sweet, nervous, inexperienced Carter, just said that?

His breath is uneven, his hands still gripping my waist like he’s not sure whether to pull me closer or push me away before he completely loses it. So I make the decision for him. I reach down, fingers slipping to the waistband of his jeans, feeling the way his stomach tenses beneath my touch, the sharp inhale he tries and fails to hide. His hands twitch, his fingers flexing against my hips, but he doesn’t stop me. So I keep going. I take my time, slow and deliberate, dragging the denim down inch by inch, letting my fingertips graze the firm muscle of his thighs as I work them lower.

I can feel the tension coiling in his body, the sharp way his chest rises and falls as I peel away the last real barrier between us, as I leave him in nothing but his briefs, and see exactly what I’ve been feeling pressed against me this entire time. And holy. Fucking. Hell.

I swallow, pulse hammering as my eyes drop lower, as my breath catches, as I confirm exactly what I suspected. He’s huge.

Carter’s cheeks flush instantly, his throat bobbing as he avoids my gaze, his fingers flexing like he doesn’t know what to do with them, like he’s bracing for my reaction. Oh my god. He’s shy about it. I bite my lip, fighting the smile threatening to form, because he’s already struggling enough, already trying to keep himself together when I can see exactly how much he’s about to come undone. But I don’t say anything. Not yet. Instead, I shift, pressing my hands to his chest, feeling the steady, solid warmth of him beneath my palms, feeling the way his muscles flex and tense under my touch.

Then, slow, deliberate, teasing, I roll my hips against him. Carter chokes on his own breath.

His fingers snap tight against my skin, his head tipping back against the couch, his lips parting, a low, broken sound slipping from his throat before he can stop it. And I feel all of him.

Thick, hard, pressing against me through the thin fabric of his briefs, making my stomach twist, making me wonder how the hell he’s been hiding this from me for so long. So I do it again. I grind against him, slow, deliberate, watching the way his entire body reacts, watching the way his jaw clenches like he’s trying so hard not to make a sound but completely failing.

And then, just to make sure he really hears it, just to push him even further, I murmur, “Fuck, Carter… you’re so big.”

His breath shudders, his fingers digging into my waist, his body jerking beneath me like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

And because he can’t help it, because I’m clearly breaking him, because he’s seconds away from completely unraveling, he admits it. “I—I know.”

I swear to god, I have never wanted anyone more in my entire life. His hands are clutching my waist like he’s barely holding himself together, his breath coming in sharp, uneven pulls, his entire body trembling beneath me.

I could give him a second to process everything that’s happening. But why the fuck would I do that when I can feel exactly how much he wants this?

I shift again, rolling my hips one more time, dragging over him, pressing down just enough to feel him twitch beneath me, just enough to hear that delicious, broken sound rip from his throat again. Just to see how far I can push him, just to see if I can completely destroy what little self-control he has left, I lean in, my lips brushing his ear, my voice low and sweet as I ask “do you want me to taste you?”

His head slams back against the couch, his chest rising too fast, his fingers tightening so hard against my skin I swear I feel his nails press in. “Oh, fuck.”

It’s not even a full sentence, just a wrecked, desperate sound, just a plea wrapped up in two broken words, just the most perfect reaction I could have ever hoped for. And it’s not enough. Because now, I need to see how much further I can take him. I press my lips to his jaw, teasing, letting my hands slide lower, feeling hips beneath my fingers. “I’ll take care of you, Carter.”

His breath shudders. I let my fingers skim just a little lower, not touching him where he needs me most just yet, but letting him feel how close I am, letting him understand exactly what I’m offering. “I want to.”

Carter makes a desperate sound, something that tells me I’ve completely undone him. Before I can push him any further, before I can even move, before I can say anything else, He grabs me. Not rough. Not forceful. But enough. Enough to let me know that this just changed everything.

20

Carter

Iam losing my fucking mind.

I can still feel the weight of her words pressing into my chest, into my stomach, into my dick that is already so fucking hard it hurts.

I don’t even know how to respond to that, don’t even know what the fuck I’m supposed to do with myself now that she’s said it, now that she’s looking at me like she’s already made up her mind, like this is happening and I have absolutely no say in the matter.

And God help me, I don’t want to stop her. My fingers twitch against her thighs, before I can even think about stopping her, before I can even figure out how to wrap my head around what’s about to happen…

Her hands are at my waistband, slow and sure, her fingers hooking into the elastic, dragging my boxers down with the same teasing pace that is actively wrecking me from the inside out.

I can’t stop it. I can’t stop the way my breath hitches, the way my thighs tense, the way my fingers clench against the couch, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart.

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