Page 34 of 40 and (So Over) Fixing It
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed. The gust hit her skin, tightening her nipples, and he groaned before his hands cupped the outsides of each breast and he leaned forward to take one hardened tip into his mouth.
Erin startled. Moaned. Arched. Her fingers dug into those short blond strands at the back of his head, pulling him closer, begging silently for him to take more of her inside. And Carter complied. His mouth opened wider, his teeth surrounded her nipple, and he sucked hard, a sound of sheer hunger escaping as he took her deep. Thick masculine fingers dug into her soft mounds, her ribs, forcing her closer. A hard male chest pressed against her thighs. She’d forgotten what it felt like to have a mouth at her breast, to feel that ravenous hunger taking her in, to feel the sheer weight and strength of a male body against hers, and she reveled in it, in him. The only thing that would make it better would be to get closer to him, as close as humanly possible.
“God, Erin,” he groaned as he released her.
She whined, her hands pulling him to her opposite breast without thought. She needed him to keep going. “Don’t stop,” she begged breathlessly.
“No stopping,” he mumbled against her nipple, the brush of his lips dragging a moan from deep inside her, and then he had her in his mouth again. A zing of lightning shot down her stomach, hitting her clit like a mini bomb. The detonation brought her to her knees.
Seeming to sense what she needed, Carter didn’t let go. His hand against her butt kept her upright, straddling one of his bent legs. She settled onto his thigh, his hand sliding up between her shoulder blades to steady her as he pressed her backward, his mouth moving in a frenzy against her breast. It felt so good—the wet suction on her nipple, the hungry pressure tugging and tugging, drawing her out of herself even as it sent waves of incredible pleasure straight through her body. The probing of thick fingers against the apex of her thighs had her tilting her hips, opening herself to him, giving him access until finally the pads of his fingertips settled on her most sensitive spot and dragged in a circle, nearly shooting her straight into the atmosphere.
Her hands shot to his shoulders, fingers digging in, hanging on for dear life. “Carter! Oh God, Carter, please.”
His laugh was a little pleased and a whole lot desperate, a feeling she could relate to. She didn’t let herself think, didn’t wonder how in the world they’d gotten from mutually antagonistic to desperate for each other in the space of a few hours. All she knew was that she needed him, needed this, now. Right now.
His circling pressed the seam of her jeans against her clit. Erin could feel the rise of her orgasm, felt the tingles of impending ecstasy. Instinct had her shifting closer until her knee met Carter’s crotch. The thick ridge of his cock was unmistakable, and just the thought of having him inside her shot shivers of desire into her center. “Not yet,” she whimpered. Not yet. It was too good. She wanted it to last; she wanted to come. The war of needs fought deep inside her gut, echoing the pressure of Carter’s manipulative fingertips against her clit. Soft, slow. Hard, fast. Over and over, the dizzying whirlwind went round and round, accompanied by the steady rocking of his cock against her knee.
She couldn’t go on forever, no matter how much she might wish to. When Carter bit down on her nipple, his fingers sliding roughly along the top of her clit to press hard at the opening to her body, she detonated like a supernova, lighting up the night sky. She was vaguely aware of Carter grunting against her breast, of wet warmth against her knee, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to interpret what she felt. All she could focus on was the spasms of her body and the soft, sweet feel of Carter’s hair twisted in her fingers.
Long moments later, soothing strokes of big hands trailing up and down her spine registered. A tight, firm chest pressed to hers. Heavy breaths gusted against her the strap of her bra over her bare shoulder.
Holy hell, he hadn’t even gotten her bra off.
What would happen if he did?
The thought sent her scrambling to her feet, curses ripping the air. She’d had sex—or practically had sex…almosthad sex?—with her best friend’s fiancé’s best friend. That was wrong, right? Or…right, wrong.
She growled.Damn it!
She was afraid to look at him, so she sneaked a peek out of the corner of her eye. The room had gotten gloomier the longer they’d been here, but it still wasn’t dark enough that she couldn’t see him there, still kneeling, a dark patch clearly evident at the crotch of his jeans. He wasn’t looking at her; he was staring at his hands, fisted on his knees. Angry? Of course he was angry. Or, no…why would he be angry? He was the one who’d touched her. But she’d whipped her shirt off. So, yeah, angry. Right?
Would you stop asking yourself what’s right? Get away from him and figure it out later!
Tough to do when he was literally her ride home.
“Carter—”
“I’m sorry.”
He was sorry.
All the emotion roiling inside her deflated. Well, not all the emotion. Apparently she could be angry just fine. And she didn’t care if it wasright.
“Of course you are.”
He lifted his head, blinking. “What?”
“Of course you’re ‘sorry.’” Yes, in her anger she even made air quotes.
“Well, now I’m confused.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts and frowned at him.
“What’s going on, Erin?”
She hated the fact that she loved how he said her name. “You tell me.”
He shook his head. “I’m not playing games with you, not anymore.” Rising from his knees, he pushed his jean legs down, grimacing as the wet material dragged across his skin. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
