The dull desire that hasn’t faded, shoots through me and I welcome it.
Carter’s dark eyes find mine, but instead of reaching lower, his arm dips into the water next to me and he gathers the washcloth once again.
I’m reminded of his patience. How slowly he does everything. I don’t know if he finds pleasure in teasing me or if it’s simply that he doesn’t want this moment to end, but either way, I lean my head back as he continues bathing me, and I don’t object until his hand is right where I’ve secretly been wishing for it to be.
He brushes the washcloth against my throbbing clit and I gasp, moving away from the intense pleasure and making waves in the tub that splash over the edge. Fear and desire mix into a confusing potion that I drank long ago. And at this moment, I’d drink the bottle again, I’d suck it dry and lick the edge of the neck where the last beads of liquid would gather. That’s how badly I wish for him to do it again.
“Don’t let go, Aria. If you do, I’ll stop,” he warns me and my lungs still. My body’s on fire with need. I slowly lower myself back under the warm water, until my breasts are hidden again, and I hold Carter’s eyes as I slowly reach back up and grip on to the edge. My body’s still, so still as Carter’s gaze flickers between my pussy and my stare. I bite down on my bottom lip as he reaches between my legs again.
His movements have been steady and slow. Careful and considerate even. But as the washcloth falls into the water, brushing against my thigh and ass, and his fingers replace the cloth, his movements are nothing but savage.
He shoves his fingers inside of me. My back bows as the sudden spike in pleasure crashes through every inch of my body.
“Carter,” I whimper his name as he pushes his palm against my clit. I’ve never been touched like this. Air is torn from me and I can’t breathe or move or do anything but grip tighter and try to stay still as he finger fucks me harder and harder.
“Carter,” I cry out his name louder into the hot air and grip the edge of the tub as hard as I can. I can’t let go but my body is begging for me to run, to move, to both get closer to the intense pleasure and to leave it quickly.
I know when I do cum, it will split me into pieces and he’ll love how I shatter under his touch. It both terrifies me and thrills me.
I should be ashamed as I writhe in the water. I should be embarrassed as he hisses when my pussy clamps around his fingers and my orgasm tears through me, coming faster and harder than it ever has before.
My heart shouldn’t pound for more. My body shouldn’t ache for more. I shouldn’t sit up so quickly with the intention of gripping his wrist and pleading with him for more. The waves are still crashing through me as he turns around, grabbing the towel and ignoring how I’ve just come apart for him.
My fears cloud the desire; they dim the sensation of lust that ricochets through my blood, my breathing steadying.
But when he turns to face me, I know it’s alright. I know I did well to let him touch me. From the way he looks at me, it’s like he’s never wanted anything more in his life.
Chapter 19
Carter
* * *
She’s too good. Too fucking perfect.
And that’s how I’ll keep her so that each and every time I can ruin her. It’s a delicate balance, knowing what to offer her and when to take from her.
Tonight, I’ve given more than enough, and I’ll feel her break beneath me. I’ll feel her shatter under me as I take every bit of her that I want. And she’ll fucking love me for it.
The water falls around her in a patter onto the tile floor. She lets it drip down her back and sides. Even the thick towel I’m wrapping around her waist can’t hide her from me. I’ve felt every inch. Every curve is burned into my memory.
Her skin trembles beneath my fingertips as I brush them against her shoulders.
I take my time, letting each small touch catch her off guard. The gasps and sharp breaths only add to the thrill. My cock is harder than it’s ever been as I lead her to the bedroom and she clings to that towel as if she’ll be able to keep it.
Her small frame casts a shadow on the thick carpet, the moonlight shining through the drapes. I can practically hear her heart beating as she stares at the bed. My fingers slip over her silky skin and I let my lips fall to her shoulder, so I can whisper, “You don’t need this anymore.” My fingers slip between the plush towel and her soft skin. I half expect my songbird to object. To continue to pretend like she doesn’t want this.