Page 90 of Craving Carla

“You make me feel safe,” I reply honestly.

Amari smiles and pulls me under the shower head with him, kissing me passionately as the water rinses away the soap. His hands cup my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks as he deepens the kiss. Then he reaches behind me to turn off the water, lifting me into his arms and carrying me to the bed.

He lays me down with a gentleness that belies his strength, his eyes never leaving mine as he hovers above me. “I’m going to make love to you, Carla,” he says, his voice deep with promise. “I want you to feel how much I want you—need you.”

“Yes,” I breathe, reaching for him.

He starts with my face, kissing my forehead, my eyelids, my nose, my cheeks, before finally claiming my mouth in a kiss that steals my breath. His tongue slides against mine, claiming, possessing, while his hands roam my body with reverence.

He moves lower, kissing down my neck, lingering at the spot where he bit me before. The mark tingles as his lips brush against it, sending shocks of pleasure straight to my core. I arch against him, silently begging for more.

His mouth finds my breast, tongue swirling around my nipple before drawing it between his lips. He sucks gently, then more firmly, his hand kneading my other breast with perfect pressure. I moan, my fingers gripping his short curls, holding him to me.

He shifts to my other breast, giving it the same thorough attention, and I’m already squirming beneath him, desperate for more. But Amari is in no rush. He continues his downwardexploration, pressing open-mouthed kisses to my ribs, my stomach, the jut of my hipbones.

When he reaches the apex of my thighs, he looks up at me, his eyes burning with desire. “I want to taste you again,” he says, his breath hot against my most sensitive flesh. “I want to devour you until you can’t remember your own name.”

Before I can respond, his mouth is on me, his tongue parting my pussy with a firm stroke that has me crying out. He groans against me, the vibration adding to the pleasure as he circles my clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Amari,” I gasp, my hips lifting off the bed.

He pins me down with one arm across my hips, his other hand sliding up to palm my breast. “Let me have you, baby,” he murmurs against me. “Let go for me.”

His tongue moves with focused intent, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks against my clit that have me seeing stars. When he moves his hand down and slides a finger inside me, curling it to hit that spot deep within, I come undone, my first orgasm washing over me in waves.

But he doesn’t stop. He continues his assault, adding another finger, stretching me gently as he sucks my clit between his lips. The sensation is too much and not enough at the same time, and I find myself building toward another peak almost immediately.

“That’s it, angel,” he encourages, his voice rough with desire. “Come for me again.”

And I do, harder this time, my entire body shaking with the force of it. I’m barely conscious of the tears that start to form in my eyes—tears of overwhelming pleasure, of connection, of feeling truly desired for the first time in my long life.

Amari kisses his way back up my body, pausing to suckle each breast again before claiming my mouth in a kiss that lets me taste myself on his tongue. The intimacy of it—of tastingmy own pleasure on his lips—sends another shock of arousal through me.

He positions himself between my thighs, the head of his dick nudging at my entrance. He’s hard and thick, intimidating in his size, but my body welcomes him as he pushes inside with careful restraint.

“Look at me,” he commands, and I open my eyes, meeting his golden gaze as he fills me completely.

The fullness is overwhelming, a delicious stretch that borders on pain but never crosses it. He stays still for a moment, allowing me to adjust, his forehead pressed against mine, our breath mingling.

“You feel like home,” he whispers, and the simple honesty of the words brings fresh tears to my eyes.

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and measured at first, each one hitting something deep within me that makes me gasp. His hands are everywhere—in my hair, caressing my face, gripping my hips, sliding beneath me to cup my ass and change the angle.

“Amari,” I moan, my nails digging into his back as he increases his pace.

“That’s it, say my name,” he growls, his hips snapping against mine with more force. “Let me hear you, baby.”

He shifts, hooking one of my legs over his arm, opening me wider, driving deeper. The new angle has him hitting that perfect spot with every thrust, and I feel myself building toward another climax, faster than I thought possible.

“I’m going to come,” I gasp, my voice breaking on the words.

“Yes,” he hisses, his pace becoming almost punishing. “Come around my dick, Carla. Let me feel you.”

His words send me over the edge, and I cry out, my body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. He groans, tightening his grip as he continues tothrust through my orgasm, prolonging it until I’m trembling beneath him.

When I finally come down, he’s still hard inside me, his eyes dark with hunger. He pulls out, and I whimper at the loss, but he just smiles, smoothly turning me onto my stomach with confident ease.

“On your knees,” he commands softly, and I comply, my limbs trembling from exertion and desire.