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While chewing my cookie, I feel a little better. Maybe it’s the way he’s holding me. Maybe it’s the sugar. Maybe I’m just finally understanding myself a little more. “Carson?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to go slower.” I press my lips to his and pull his shirt off.

Chapter 11

Carson

This is nuts. I keep breaking all my goddamn rules and it’s not going to end well between Mak and me if I don’t get a handle on my self-control and do better than this. I’ve slipped up countless times already.

But it feels good to not be rigid for once. And when she runs her nails down my chest, I love how my body erupts with goosebumps and my nipples harden. My dick is like a steel pipe in my jeans. Even after all of this, I’m still hard and ready to fuck.

That makes me feel guilty for reasons I can’t explain.

I should have done more homework on Mak before bringing her here. I should have made sure we both understood what scene would happen first before we began. But it’s her fault that she wasn’t open with me and as honest as she should have been about her experience level.

Now she knows.

I hope she’s learned her lesson because I don’t want to teach her another one. This night has truly rocked me to my core. Part of me wants to teach her everything about primal kink so she can go out into the world and live her best life. Another part of me wants to keep her to myself and spoil her rotten before and after I chase her down and fuck her senseless.

But a bigger part of me is leery of what this might grow into.

I know we signed a contract. I know this is just a partnership. I know it’s temporary.

But it doesn’t feel that way.

It feels real. It feels alive and warm and pulsing and fated—which is preposterous. Love isn’t in the cards for me. This is just a phase. I’m going through something; I just can’t tell what it is. And I’m going to take Mak on this ride with me because I’ll be damned if I’m going to set her loose and let anyone else enjoy her sweet mouth, greedy hands, or her divine pussy.

Her scent remains on my mouth, nose, chin, and cheeks. I can smell her every time I breathe.

And now she’s pulling my shirt off and telling me she doesn’t want to go slow.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?

Not this.

Not what I’m doing right now.

I sit up so she can pull my shirt all the way off. I don’t have six-pack abs like the models on the covers of the books on my shelf. I don’t have a small waist with that V-shaped muscle that makes women foam at the mouth. I’m strong and solid as a tank with lots of extra cushion.

She runs her hands down my torso and I grip her wrist when she gets too close to my love handles. My jaw clenches. There’s a question in her eyes I’m not about to answer. Talk about being a hypocrite. I just lectured her about open honesty and here I am, hiding my own demons.

My insecurities have roared to life, and I feel trapped and at her mercy. Feeling vulnerable sucks, but it’s something I’m forever actively working on. Which is why I let her wrist go and lean back so she can have a good look at me.

Being on display makes me vicious. “I’m nothing like your ex.”

Mak’s gaze locks with mine and I feel like her hazel eyes are swallowing me whole. “I really hope that’s true,” she whispers.

Instead of firing off questions to dig deeper into that comment, I let it go for now. We’ve been on strange, rocky ground and I’d hate to fuck this up more than I already have.

The chemistry between us feels natural. Her touch on my body does too. I don’t quiver or shrink back when she runs her hands all over me again. In fact, I press into it. I want it.

I crave it.

I’ve never been the exposed one before. I can’t tell if I like it or not, but Mak’s body language tells me everything I need to know. She’s curious and turned on, and that’s all because of me.

She wants me.