Page 50 of Carnival
His words cause something in my chest to stir. Before I can even begin to question it, James pulls out of me roughly and flips me over. He puts my legs over his shoulders and immediately pushes his cock into me with more force than necessary.
At this point, I feel like I’m losing my voice from all the screaming I’ve been doing, albeit most of it being muffled by the pillow earlier. He leans forward, my knees touching my chest as he sneaks one hand around my throat, squeezing it tightly. My eyes roll to the back of my head, closing briefly.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes,’’ he thrusts into me, deeper than ever. “Open your fucking eyes and watch me while I fuck what’s mine, Rosalie.’’
The commanding tone in his voice makes me obey immediately, my eyes finding his. His pupils are dilated, a look of pure insanity flashing behind his eyes. He doesn’t even bother hiding it — he wants me to see just how insane I’m making him, and it boosts my ego.
“James,’’ I choke out, his hold on my throat tightening until black dots start forming in my vision.
“Yes, hellion?” His voice is low, taunting, mocking even. He slightly lessens the grip, yet still holds me pinned down as he fucks me like a wild animal.
“I’m going to come.’’
A low growl slips from his throat, goosebumps prickling my entire body at the sound. He leans in, his face mere inches away from mine. He’s not looking away — he can’t. It’s like he’s hypnotized against his will.
“Then come for me, you little slut. I want to watch as you come apart on the cock of the man that owns this cunt.’’
His words are enough to trigger an orgasm, and it rips through me almost too soon. His name leaves my lips like the sweetest melody, like I’m praying to a god. Even as I’m coming undone under him, he doesn’t stop, chasing his own release, his movements becoming quicker, yet just as intense.
I feel him spill into me, and he pushes all the way in, and I think I can feel him in my fucking womb. The look of pure bliss is on his face, a deep, gravelly groan coming from his mouth.
He’s panting, trying to catch his breath as he gently removes my legs from his shoulders, then slumping against my chest, his hands immediately wrapping around me. Yet, he doesn’t pull out.
I’m not in a better state, either. My throat’s a little sore, eyes finally closing. My hands shake as I thread them through his hair, playing with it. For a while, it’s just the sound of our rapid heartbeats that can be heard in my bedroom.
He lifts his head up, a lazy smirk on his face. “You’re beautiful.’’
“I probably look like shit.’’
He scoffs. “I said you were beautiful, meaning you’re beautiful.’’
“Well, thank you,’’ I mumble, continuing to play with his hair.
James hums, eyes never leaving mine. “I’m not pulling out, y’know. I want to sleep inside you.’’
“It will just slip out.’’
He softly kisses my collarbone. “Don’t you worry about it.’’
A small laugh slips from me, and he lays his head back on my chest. I want to ask him about what Hudson did to him, but given that he seems to be unharmed, it can wait until tomorrow morning.
For now, I just want to bask in his divine scent, to feel his heartbeat, and to hold him tightly, because something tells me it won’t last forever.
19
Rose
Isit up in the bed, stretching, lifting my arms above my head. A yawn slips out of me, and I try to rub the sleep off my eyes, the thick duvet pooling around my waist. The previous night floods my memories, and I look to the side, spotting James sleeping soundly next to me.
A small chuckle escapes me because I was right — it did slip out while we were sleeping.
As silently as possible, I leave the bedroom and enter the bathroom, stripping out of the remaining clothes I have on and stepping into the shower. The warm water soothes my aching skin, the spots where James went crazy last night stinging slightly.
It takes me a while to get out, the warm water luring me to stay. I step out of the shower, a cloud of steam following me as I dry my body off with a towel. I gasp when I see the state of my neck and shoulders — filled with love bites and bruises from his hands.
“Damn you, James.’’ I mumble, throwing on a pair of comfortable sweatpants and an oversized shirt, sliding my feet into my slippers. My stomach growls, and I head for the kitchen, putting on an apron and getting the breakfast ready.
I make some scrambled eggs and fry some bacon, given that those were the only edible ingredients in the fridge. And I had those thanks to Noelle, who packed them for me. I didn’t spend much time here, unless it was exam season, so there was never any need to hoard food in the cupboard and fridge.
