Page 65 of No Save Point

“What’s wrong, Carter?”

I let out a slow, unsteady exhale, my fingers gripping her just a little tighter, my jaw locking, my heart hammering as I fight the losing battle of pretending I don’t want to fucking ruin her right now.

This girl is gonna be the death of me. Last night changed something. The way she touched me, the way she showed me exactly what she wanted, exactly how to take it, fuck, it rewired something deep inside me, something that makes it impossible to sit back and let her tease me like this without giving it right back.

My grip on her hips tightens, dragging her closer, forcing her to feel exactly how fucking hard she’s making me just by sitting here, just by saying those words, just by looking at me like that. And when I lean in, brushing my lips against the shell of her ear, I don’t hold back.

“What’s wrong?” I echo, my voice lower, rougher, letting every ounce of heat curl through the words, letting her feel it as much as hear it. “Baby, you’re the one squirming in my lap like you can’t sit still.”

Haven inhales sharply, her fingers gripping my shoulders, and I swear to God, it’s the most satisfying fucking thing in the world.

I smirk, dragging my hands up the curve of her waist, slow and deliberate, pressing my thumbs just beneath the start of her tits, not quite touching, but close enough that she shivers beneath me. “I think you like it,” I murmur, pressing a kiss just below her jaw, feeling the way her body tenses, the way she sucks in a breath when I run my tongue along the same spot, dragging my teeth ever so slightly over her skin. “The way I hold you. The way I make you feel.”

She lets out the quietest, most breathless sound. I pull back just enough to watch her, to take in the way her eyes flutter shut for a second before she forces them back open, locking onto mine like she’s barely keeping herself together. “Carter…”

Fuck, I love the way she says my name. I grin, shifting beneath her again, making sure she feels every inch of how hard I already am for her.

“Yeah?” I tease, my hands slipping lower, tracing the hem of her hoodie, pushing it up just a little, exposing the smooth skin of her stomach beneath my fingertips. “You want something, baby? Or are you just teasing me because you like watching me fall apart for you?”

I spread her thighs wider, “You want me here again, baby?” I whisper, dragging my thumbs along the crease of her hips. “Want me to taste you like last time?”

She hums, lashes fluttering, hips already rocking toward me. “Always,” she whispers. “You know what I like.”

I do. Because she taught me. Because every time she guided my mouth, every soft moan ofthere, just like that— I took it like gospel. I lay her back on my bed, my head between her thighs after pulling off her pants, and moan against her, the taste of her hitting me like a goddamn drug. She gasps, one hand flying to my hair, fingers tightening as she pushes her hips against my tongue. “That’s it, Carter… open your mouth for me.”

I do. Her voice alone makes me grind against the bed, cock aching and untouched. I suck gently on her clit, letting her ride my face, letting her fuck my mouth however she wants.

“Deeper,” she pants, breath catching. “Don’t be scared, I want all of you.”

A whimper escapes my mouth and press in harder, licking with slow, messy circles, then flattening my tongue, dragging it back and forth until her thighs are shaking around my head.

“You’re doing so good,” she moans. “My sweet boy… always so desperate for me.”

And she’s right. I’mdesperate,making fucking noises against her pussy like I’m the one about to come. My jaw aches, my eyes burn, and still I don’t stop.

She’s gasping now, hands clenched in my hair, body arching, one long, shuddering moan spilling from her lips as she falls apart on my tongue.

I keep licking her through it, until she’s trembling. “Fuck,” I breathe against her. “I love you like this.”

She hums in response, a lazy, fucked-out sound and her hand slips from my hair. Her chest rises slowly. She’s falling asleep. I slide up beside her, kiss her shoulder, and wrap myself around her. I should close my eyes. But I hear the door open. My body goes rigid.

Tate stands in the doorway, shirtless, sweatpants slung low, shadows cutting across his chest from the hallway light. He steps inside, slow and quiet, eyes locked on the bed. He doesn’t say a word.

“Don’t,” I mutter. “She’s sleeping.”

Tate’s smirk is immediate, like I just said something funny. He shuts the door with a soft click, eyes never leaving me. “Didn’t say a thing, golden boy.”

But I see it. The way his gaze shifts, dragging down Haven’s body, taking in every detail the bare stretch of her thighs tangled in the sheets.

“You did good,” he says. “She looks exhausted. Bet she was fucking perfect for you.”

My pulse spikes, not because of the words. Just the way he says them, like he was there.

“Seriously.” I shift. “Don’t be a dick, Tate. This was our moment.”

He raises a brow, not arguing. Not backing off either. Just steps closer, crouching beside the bed. His hand hovers above her hip, close enough that my body tenses, but he doesn’t touch.

“You ever heard of somnophilia?” he asks. “Fucking someone while they sleep?”

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