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CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

arden

The moment I overheard him talking so casually about our relationship was the moment I realized that I was no longer okay with the idea of this thing between us being fake.

I am not ready to admit that part of it yet, so I just owned up to the fact that I want very, very real sex with Carter Forkerro instead.

The rest will have to be dealt with later.

But he doesn’t kiss me.

Carter sinks to his knees in front of me instead, those sinful blue eyes peering up at me as if this is common practice, as if he’s used to being on his knees before women.

A pang of jealousy strikes through me. Has he been on his knees like this for someone else?

How frequently? Was it the pretty girl with the black hair from the bar?

I’m about to go down the rabbit hole, but then he's hiking my foot into his lap with a gentle touch, and he begins to slowly undo the strap of my heel while his eyes burn into mine. Suddenly, whoever was before me doesn’t matter. I have him now .

Our gazes stay locked onto each other, melting layers and layers of lies and desperation, incinerating all the facades between us until it’s only the truth, what we want, and how badly we want it.

His hands sweep down my calf as he fiddles with the clasp behind my ankle and gently removes my shoe. He places it to the side, a knowing smile pulling on his mouth, and leans down to press his lips to the inside of my leg.

Those pretty blue eyes never leave mine.

I cock a brow as he lowers my foot to the ground, offering my second leg before he asks and his eyes twinkle with satisfaction.

He does the same thing, all torturously slow, making my body tremble with desire.

He holds my foot in his lap, undoes my shoe with careful fingers, and presses that mouth to my leg again.

When he places my foot back onto the floor, he slowly rises to his feet, cupping my face in his hands.

My breath hitches as he lowers his face to my level, his fingers ghosting over the skin of my jaw.

Kiss me.

“Need help with that dress?” he asks, his voice deep and hoarse.

Please, kiss me.

I swallow, the tension thick. “I think so.”

“Sign me up for that, too,” he mumbles, and then finally glides his mouth against mine.

Yes.

He deepens the kiss instantly. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and the taste of Jager floods my body.

He’s slow and deliberate, lingering in the small moments where he pulls away to study my face, only to kiss me again a second later.

We’re still kissing when he undoes the clip in my hair and tosses it on the couch, his fingers sliding through my hair the seconds they’re able to.

He’s ensuring that this is the hottest, most intense moment of my life. A moment that no other kiss will ever touch.

He’s winning.

He pulls his mouth from mine and before I can find my voice, his hands are on my hips and he abruptly spins me around. I stumble, my head fuzzy, but he keeps me upright with a firm hand on my abdomen.

God, this is already all encompassing. His breath is behind my ear, causing a wake of goosebumps to sprout down my neck. His fingers find the zipper of my dress and he slowly pulls it down, the goosebumps trailing his every move.

He carefully glides the dress off my body until it pools at my feet, his fingers gently following the fabric down my skin as it falls.

I reach down to pick it up, but his hand clasps around my wrist. “Leave it.”

I glance over my shoulder at him. “It’s my favourite dress.”

His eyes are dark. “I’ll buy you another one.”

He reaches forward to grab my chin roughly with his hand, crushing his mouth to mine, like he needs my kiss to breathe. Like one more moment without it, and he won’t make it to the next. Like he’s counted down the seconds until we caved into this desire we’ve been pretending not to feel.

I turn in his arms, stepping out of the dress, treasuring the way he holds my face like it’s his most coveted possession, and he’d destroy anyone who touched it the way he is now.

Carter’s tongue slides into my mouth, and I moan into his.

The very moment that sound leaves me, he snaps back into action.

He leans down and scoops me up by the bottom of my thighs, hoisting me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist, a small squeal escaping from my body that makes him smile against my mouth as he guides us back to my bedroom.

Not once does he stop kissing me, and not once would I dream of letting him.

He trudges toward the bed with me still wrapped completely around him, and he softly lowers me onto the mattress on my back.

“It’s been a long time for you,” he mumbles as he hovers over me, eyes searching mine. “Any way you’d like this to go?”

I’m supposed to think right now?

I shake my head frantically. “I don’t care.”

“Mm, see, that is going to be a problem,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth to mine. “I like being told what to do, Red. A bit too much, probably.”

I cock a brow. “You want to be ordered around?”

“I know. It confuses me too.” He sighs, shaking his head. He reaches between our bodies to cup my face. “So, what do you want? What do you like? What gets you off?”

This isn’t like picking what’s for dinner. I can’t be indecisive here. He means it. He needs to know. He wants to know.

“I want you on top of me for the first time,” I say, watching the way heat grows behind his eyes with each word. “I need to see your face. I want to watch you.”

“I can do that for you,” he says, dipping his chin with a smile.

“Get undressed then, boyfriend.”

Carter breaks into a grin and he nods, stepping back to undo his belt.

I watch from my spot on the bed, following every move of his hands and focusing on the rattle of his belt buckle.

His smile dwindles into something darker at the look on my face, at the way I’m drooling over him before I’ve even had him.

I promise you, I have never wanted somebody as badly as I want him and I don’t care if he can see that all over me. It’s the truth .

When his pants hit the ground, I fall back on my elbows and shake my head. He’s straining against his briefs, big and thick, and exactly what I expected from a man like him. I skirt my gaze back up to his face, rolling my eyes at the pleased smirk that is staring right back at me.

Arrogant asshole.

“Am I going to be able to walk after this?” I ask him pointedly.

Carter’s head falls back as he barks out a laugh. “No promises.”

“Fuck,” I whisper, falling back onto the bed. I reach into my nightstand for a foil packet, tear it open, and hand it to him.

He slowly unbuttons his shirt, exposing a body that is far too pretty to be real.

I watch as he tugs down his briefs and slowly rolls the condom on.

I zero in on the part of him I’ve been desperate to see.

It’s as gorgeous as the rest of him. I am salivating at the thought of that being buried inside me in mere moments.

He reaches for my ankles, gently sliding my whole body onto the bed. When he crawls on top of me, everything in my head goes quiet and still. The way the world only does when he’s around.

This is real. We’re doing this.

Carter brackets his hands on either side of my head, his eyes scanning my face.

Without a word, I reach up to cup my hand over his cheek, lifting my head to press my mouth to his.

Carter’s weight drops between my legs so that he can kiss me back, his hips slating against mine.

His groan spills into my mouth at the feeling of our bodies finally pressed together.

We kiss for what feels like hours. Because we want to.

Because these ones are real. We’ve spent months finding excuses to kiss one another, weeks following up each press of our mouths with a reason for why we did it.

Now, it’s because we don’t want to do anything but this.

I want to memorize the way he uses his tongue, how soft his mouth feels against mine, the way he pauses between kisses to let me take control—hoping that I do.

When he reaches between us, his hand gliding along the green lace of my underwear, my breath hitches into the kiss.

“How do you like being touched?” he asks against my mouth, hand slipping underneath the fabric. He slowly dips his fingers inside me and I suck in a breath, my eyes shutting. His eyes burn into my face. “Hm?”

I reach up to wrap my hands around the back of his neck, forcing my eyes open. “Gently.”

He nods, dropping his mouth to mine while his fingers glide where they are supposed to be.

Softly, Carter begins to touch me. The pressure is feather-like, like someone’s hands tracing patterns on your skin.

His strokes are long, languid and light, in that perfect way that makes me fight to breathe.

“Shit,” I whisper, my voice getting caught in my throat. Carter’s eyes scan my face. “God, you’re good.”

He nods again, completely focused on making me feel good. He says nothing.

I let it happen, falling to the mattress, my eyes burning into his. He watches, jaw clenched, fingers maintaining their perfect and painful pattern. I stifle a happy sigh, melting into the pillows, feeling that pull in my gut that tells me I’m not going to last much longer.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, and he reaches up to grip my chin and pull my gaze back to his.

“It’s…” My back arches off the bed, my orgasm rapidly approaching. “ Oh my god .”

“Mm,” he mumbles, leaning down to press his mouth to mine. “That’s what I want. For you to get what you need from me. ”

“I’m almost there.”

“I know,” he whispers. “You look so fucking good right now, Arden.”

“What if I want you inside me when I finish?”

His eyes snap up to mine, determination washing over him. “Then I’ll fuck you until you get there.”

I nod rapidly. Yep. That’s what I want. “ Please .”