Page 106 of Trusting You

26

Locke

I leave the lights off in the bedroom.

When I lay Carter down on the bed, I do it slowly, carefully, so as not to scare her. Because if I spook Carter, I’m gonna have goddamned blue balls for life.

She’s so hot. So fucking sexy naked. She’s soft, so easy to nip at with my teeth, and before I can tell myself to cool it, I’m down there, grazing her torso with an incisor, and just like that, she’s writhing.

Fuck.

I glance up at her, make sure she’s still with me and not scrambling off the bed. I never question my prowess. My skills turn on more women than not, but Carter’s different. She’s special.

And her eyes are glittering like she wants more.

“Your wish is my command,” I say, words low and deep in my throat, and scrape my mouth and the stubble surrounding it across her sensitive naked curves before I reach what I’ve been dreaming of tasting again. And again. I want to taste her every night.

She groans and her hips twist, taking my mouth with them. Carter grinds into my tongue, small circles, then faster, faster, before she’s spearing and bucking and grabbing my head to pull me deeper.

I crave all of her. I want to ride her so hard the insides of her thighs are red with friction.

She’s not bare. She shaves, but I find I love it. Too many chicks are fucking hairless, and I want that sign of a woman—that racing stripe leading me right to the finish line.

Carter’s lost all decency. She’s not shy, not anymore, as she begs, “Yes, Locke. Yes, right there. Do it. Harder. Oh—my—harder!”

She’s gasping, rocking under me, and I curve my arms under her thighs over her stomach, and squeeze her breasts, tweaking her nipples.

Carter can barely contain herself. Her hands land on mine and she presses them against those delicious, hot tits, and like a true gentleman, I do as she bids.

“Come for me, baby,” I say into her heat.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps but has enough energy to look down and glare at me. “Don’t you fucking stop.”

I hope she can feel the curve of my mouth against her clit. “Yes, ma’am.”

When she orgasms, I nearly shoot my load right there. I keep dancing with her, keep twirling, helping her cross that brink, but I use a hand to unbuckle and unzip my jeans before my cock spears right through the denim.

“Oh,” she gasps, her ribs flying up and sinking down. “Oh.”

“Don’t rest easy yet, sweetheart,” I say, and lift off to step out of my pants and boxers.

“I-I can’t.” She’s glazed over, staring at the ceiling, but then her eyes land on me standing at the edge of the bed. “Oh.”

I like that sound she makes, the way her lips round on the syllable, the same way I want them around my cock. She can repeat that word all she fucking wants.

Don’t scare her, you fucking idiot.

I take the instinctual warning to heart. I want to fuck her until she can’t scream my name anymore, but I have to go by her initiative—her pace. I’m not about to screw this up now.

To my surprise, she pushes up to her knees. And in a move that has my dick begging to blow over, she tucks her hair behind her ears while looking right at it.

“I want to…” she says tentatively. “Can I…can I touch it?”

“Honey, you can do whatever you damn well please.”

She scoots forward on her knees, and I tip my chin up and bare my teeth, at an angle she can’t see, because all I’m desperate to do is grab her by the back of her head and get those juicy lips on me. I can still taste her, though, and that has to be enough. I scrape my tongue across my lower lip, savoring the sweetness.

Carter raises her right hand and encloses it over my shaft. I groan—can’t help it—and close my eyes, bending into her grip.