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Carter removes his hand from my body and tears my underwear down my legs and off my body. He gently spreads my thighs apart with his knees, pumping himself in his palm as he positions himself between my legs.

My body tenses in anticipation. Desperate to know what he feels like.

Carter leans down to press his mouth to mine and pushes inside me as his tongue slides against mine. I gasp into the kiss, and he rocks forward, breaking away from my lips to let out the hottest sound that I have ever heard against the skin of my jaw.

And I’ve died. I’ve died and gone to heaven.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses, suddenly very still. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” I breathe out, studying his face. His eyes are screwed shut. “Why?”

“I refuse to come before you, but I’m not sure that’s going to happen.”

“I don’t care if you come first, Carter,” I whisper, reaching up to force his face back to mine. He cracks his eyes open, mouth slightly ajar, trying everything to keep it together and it might be the hottest thing I have ever witnessed.

“I do,” he says sternly.

I glare at him, taking matters into my own hands. I rock my hips upward, forcing him deeper inside me. He curses, his head falling to my collarbone, hand going to my hip to try and stop me.

But it feels too good. For both of us. There’s no way he can find the will to physically stop this, and he doesn’t.

I rotate my hips again, watching his face carefully, my body practically vibrating at the pained expression he’s wearing. Like he’s lost in it. In me. His grip loosens on my hip.

“Fuck yeah,” he hisses, watching where our bodies connect. “That’s good, Red.”

“Yeah?” I ask, and his eyes snap to mine.

“Don’t fucking ‘yeah ’ me like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” he grumbles, and he finally finds the will to force his weight onto my body to stop me from moving. He sucks in a breath, his abs tightening to try and hold off. “Alright, you’ve had your fun. It’s my turn.”

Within one second, his care about who does what first is out the window. He pushes into me, his hips slotting completely against mine. The moment my back arches off the bed and I give him the clear signal that this is working for me, he starts to really and truly give me what I asked for.

I cling to his shoulders, my body morphing into the movement of his like we were made to do this together. His lips find my neck, placing sloppy, wet kisses up the side of it until his mouth is on my jaw and he gently bites at the skin there, groaning at the feeling of us.

Didn’t know I would like that. Liked that more than I should.

Damn. He’s good. I knew he would be, but this goes beyond what should be humanly possible.

“How does that feel?” he whispers against my jaw. I feel him smirk, so I know that he’s about to say something stupid. “Do you think your buddy Dalton could ever feel this good?”

I swear to god .

“You’re insufferable,” I bite out, but he deepens his movements, hitting a spot that’s been untouched thus far, so the last word kind of slips out of me like a whine. “So fucking annoying.”

He huffs a laugh against my mouth, his fingers digging into my hips. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

I can’t fight the smile that pulls on my lips as he kisses me. He does not slow his pace the entire time, even when I’m begging him to give me a second because I’m about to teeter over the edge, he hikes my leg up to his hip and thrusts deeper and harder, like he knows what I want more than I do.

“Do you need me to touch you to get you there?” he grumbles, blue eyes scanning my face. “Tell me what you like. Anything.”

“No,” I say frantically. “This is good. This is so good.”

A beaming smile hits his mouth. He leans back, keeping my leg hiked up against his body, maintaining the rhythm he’s set. His brow is knotting forward, his abs constricting with each movement.

And suddenly, I know how I want this to end.

“You’re going to come first,” I tell him.

He shakes his head, face falling with a warning. “Not happening.”

“Yeah, you are. That’s what I want,” I say, my breath hitching as he hits the right spot over and over again. His eyes darken. “I can see it on your face. You’re seconds away from it. I feel too good, don’t I?”

Carter’s face is morphing into something dark, obedient, and obsessive. “Red.”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you what to do?” I ask, angling my head.

I see how much this pleases him, how he really does want to follow my lead, but struggles when that means putting himself first. Still, he fucks me. He refuses to give in. Refuses to lose this competition. It’s the one thing he wants to control here.

I reach up to push my breasts together, tightening my body to make sure he can feel it. He groans under his breath, his movements getting snappier, rougher.

“Fuck,” I bite out, dropping a hand to cling to the sheets. Yeah, it’s hard to focus on winning this battle when the sex is this mind-altering. Carter’s eyes zero in on my face, his hips still flexing. I stare at him defiantly. “I can do this all night.”

He arches a brow, but still doesn’t slow his movements. “You think so?”

“Mhm,” I nod, biting my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

He reaches forward, sliding his hand over my stomach. His touch dips lower and lower, until his thumb slips between my thighs. He parts me, his finger moving slowly, and fuck him—I’m going to be a goner in thirty more seconds if this stubborn asshole doesn’t come first.

“Still confident about that?” he grits out. “Or am I just as good with my hands?”

“Shit,” I hiss.

“That’s what I thought,” he mutters, unrelenting. He pushes deep inside me, his hand working its magic. “C’mon, Red. Give it up. I’ve worked hard for it.”

“You first,” I whisper. I am going to come. Fuck.

“I don’t like that answer,” he says, readjusting his legs to force my thighs apart.

One second, I’m on my back, the next I’m being hauled up into his lap as he sits back on his knees.

His hand is buried in my hair, his other on my spine.

Instinctively, I start riding him to keep this perfect rhythm we’ve set.

We’re eye to eye now. I wet my bottom lip as he hits the right spot.

I throw my head back and he groans deeply. “My fucking god .”

My stomach tightens. Carter studies my face with a furrowed brow.

I reach forward to cup his face, my eyes burning into his, his grip tightening on my hair. I lower my mouth until it’s an inch from his, rising and falling in his lap. We watch each other, memorizing the other’s face when it’s consumed like this.

Our mouths rest a hair length away from each other, our hands explore skin while our bodies teach us the tempo of each other’s heartbeats. Using his grip on my hair, Carter forces my mouth to his, and when he comes with a desperate groan, I do too.

At the same time.

Technically, he does first.

Checkmate.