Page 69 of No Save Point

I let my nails drag down his stomach, slow and teasing, my voice soft, sweet, a deliberate contrast to what I’m doing to him. “Tell me, Carter.”

His head rolls forward, his forehead nearly pressing against mine, his eyes dark and wild, his breathing ragged, his hands gripping me tighter.

“Tell you what?” He manages, voice rough, wrecked, like he’s barely hanging on.

I smirk, my fingers trailing even lower, teasing the waistband of his sweatpants. “Tell me how bad you want me.”

His entire body jerks beneath me, his hips pressing up against mine involuntarily, his fingers tightening, his voice nothing but a wrecked groan. “So fucking bad.”

Good, Carter’s coming apart beneath me. His breath is uneven, his fingers digging into my hips, his body fighting between holding back and letting go completely. Every time I grind, every time I drag my fingers over his skin, every time I so much as breathe against his throat, I can feel it, his control slipping, his patience shattering, his desperation mounting.

And fuck, it’s so good. I push him further, my nails dragging over his stomach, my lips barely ghosting along his jaw, my hips rolling slow, teasing him just enough to make him curse under his breath, his hands twitching like he’s dying to take over, to flip me onto my back and fuck me into the bed until I forget my own name.

He’s so close to breaking. That’s when it happens, the thought. The one I shouldn’t be having. Tate.

It slips in uninvited, weaving itself between the heat, the tension, the undeniable chemistry between me and Carter. I don’t want it there, I don’t want to think about him, not now, not while Carter is beneath me, not while I have him at my mercy, but fuck I can’t stop it.

I know how he’d react if he saw this. If he walked in, if he leaned against the doorframe with that damn smirk, arms crossed, voice full of arrogance and filth and challenge.

I know exactly what he’d say, exactly how he’d taunt his brother, exactly how he’d push and push until Carter snapped.

I shudder, a sharp inhale, my fingers tightening where they rest on Carter’s chest, and fuck, I need to get that thought out of my head. I need to focus on the boy beneath me, the one unraveling at my touch, the one who has wanted me for so fucking long.

Carter feels it, his hands slide up my sides, his eyes searching mine, his breath coming out uneven as he tilts his head, his lips parting like he’s about to say something.

I rock my hips against him harder, and whatever question he was about to ask dies in his throat, replaced with a sharp, choked groan. His head falls back, his fingers flex against my skin, and just like that, he’s lost again, too wrecked to notice the way my own body is still trying to process that one fleeting thought.

I drag my nails lower, my lips brushing over his as I murmur against his mouth,

“I’m not done with you yet.”

He’s too far gone to care about anything else. Carter groans, the sound vibrating through his chest, his head tipping back against the pillows, his hands tightening their grip on my waist like he’s barely holding himself together. His hips twitch beneath me, straining for more friction, more pressure, more of me.

“Fuck, Haven,” he breathes, voice barely more than a whimper, “my cock is aching.”

My stomach tightens at the way he says it, rough and needy and so fucking desperate, his words tumbling out like he couldn’t stop them even if he tried. His body is so tense beneath me, his control hanging on by a thread, every muscle locked up with restraint, and it’s so sweet, so fucking delicious watching him fight it, watching him wait, watching him give me every ounce of patience he has even when it’s killing him.

He’s waiting for me, letting me set the pace, letting me take whatever I want.

I lean forward, my hands smoothing up his chest, my lips hovering over his, teasing but not quite touching, my voice soft and saccharine as I whisper. “Good boy.”

Carter fucking whimpers. The sound rips out of him like I just shattered him in the best way, his whole body trembling beneath me, his fingers digging into my skin, his breath coming out sharp and uneven. He’s so fucking needy for me. I’m not done teasing him yet, no. I’m going to make him beg.

32

Carter

Iam barely fucking holding it together. Haven’s hands are still on me, her breath warm against my skin, her weight pressing into my lap like she owns me, fuck at this point, she does. She has me wrapped around her finger, wound so tight I’m ready to snap, my body betraying every attempt at patience, every ounce of control I thought I had.

Then she said it,Good boy.It’s not just the words, it’s her. The way she whispers them, soft and deliberate.

Now I’m fucking desperate. “Please, Haven,” I breathe, my voice already shaking, my hands gripping her tighter, my hips shifting beneath her, searching for more, for friction, for anything. “I need you, fuck, I need you so bad.”

Her fingertips trace my jaw, slow and deliberate, like she’s savoring the way I’m unraveling for her, and fuck, it only makes it worse, makes me ache, makes my cock throb so hard it’s almost unbearable.

I can’t think about anything else. Just her, how perfect she feels, how warm, how soft, how good it’s going to be when I finally get to fill her up, when she finally lets me, fuck.

The thought alone nearly ends me. I groan, my head tipping back against the bed, my breath ragged, my entire body burning with how much I want her, with how much I need her, my fingers digging into her skin.

---