Page 25

24

August

T he next morning, Carson wakes charged with energy, buzzing about the secret plans he made for us today. I don’t even ask what they are because I don’t want to ruin the surprise he clearly put a lot of thought into.

Walking out of the bathroom in a white tank bodysuit tucked into a cream linen skort and white fashion sneakers, I grab my brown leather crossbody bag on my way out of the bedroom when a pair of strong arms wrap around me from behind.

I let out a shriek even though I know it’s Carson.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he murmurs into my ear before placing a trail of lingering kisses down my neck.

“You’re fine, I knew it was you,” I sigh, loving how his lips feel pressed against my skin.

“You look gorgeous,” he tells me as I turn in his arms and wrap my arms around his neck. “Look at us coordinating without trying. We’re already couple goals.”

Trailing my eyes down his body, I take in his outfit. He’s wearing a muted bluish-gray shirt, white shorts, and white sneakers.

“Did I miss the part where we became a couple?” I playfully tease.

His eyebrows crease in confusion. “You said you were mine, and you already know I’ve been yours since long before the night of the concert. I’m new to this relationship business. Did I miss a step?” he questions.

Wait, did he just say what I think he said?

“What do you mean you’re new to relationships?” I ask.

He smiles sheepishly as he runs his hands up and down my back. “I-uh haven’t really done this officially before.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend? Not even in high school?”

“No, I never really saw the point. I was so busy with hockey all the time, and I didn’t want the distraction,” he explains.

“So you had hookups and one-night stands? Did you have any situationships?” I press.

Carson’s cheeks heat and I’m not sure what to make of the look on his face right now.

He takes a deep breath, and I love the way his hard chest expands against me. “I haven’t had any one-night stands. I’ve messed around a few times at parties, but I never felt comfortable going there with complete strangers. I don’t know if it was that I didn’t trust them or if I was missing out on the genuine connection.”

“Carson,” I stammer, pausing to compose myself. “Are you a virgin?”

He must think the baffled look on my face is funny because he lets out a loud chuckle. “No, I’m not a virgin. I had a situationship, I guess you could call it, at the end of my freshman year of college into the beginning part of my sophomore year. It stopped when she met someone, which was cool with me because he was a nice guy, and she and I weren’t serious. But by that time, I’d been drafted and had just won a college national championship so there was a lot of attention on me. With everything that was going on with Cadence and Mack, it felt weird bringing someone home when they moved in with me. And then, not long after they moved in, I met you, Dream Girl.” He winks at me as a coy smile spreads across his face.

Taking the medallion of his gold chain between my fingers, I turn it over to examine both sides to avoid looking at his devastatingly handsome face while I ask, “Aren’t you worried you’ll grow tired of me? I mean, I’m older than you, and it’s not that I care about experience at all, but don’t you think you’ll want to try being with other women so you know for sure what you want?”

I hate that I’m self-sabotaging right now, but I can’t help the sinking feeling in my gut that someday he’ll want to trade me in for the newer, younger model.

Carson pulls his hands from around my waist, grabs my shoulders, and bends so he’s eye to eye with me. “Look at me when I tell you this.” I comply, looking into his aqua eyes that are shimmering with sincerity. “Age is just a number, Austen. You’re barely older than me. Stop trying to find excuses to stop this before we’ve barely begun. There is no stopping this. You and me? We’re inevitable.”

He pulls me against his chest, lacing his fingers through my hair as he rocks us side to side. Kissing the top of my head, he murmurs, “Besides, why would I ever want someone else when I hit the jackpot the first time around? I’m batting a thousand when it comes to girlfriends.”

When I look back up at him, he has the cockiest smirk on his lips. “Just so you know . . . typically you ask someone to be your girlfriend before declaring she is,” I tease.

Carson cradles my face in his hands as he stares down at me. His gaze is intense, but not in a way that frightens me. No, his gaze excites me—it ignites a passion I’ve never felt before but have longed for my entire life.

“Will you be mine, Dakota?”

“Only if you’re mine too,” I murmur in reply.

He places a chaste kiss on my lips before stepping back and grabbing my hand. “Then it’s settled. Now, let me take my girlfriend on our first proper date,” he says as we head out the door of our suite.

We walked about a mile from the hotel to a cafe, where we drank cappuccinos and ate brunch before we took in St. Mark’s Square. Doge’s Palace was unbelievable; touring it felt like we’d been transported back in time to a more regal period.

We’re now walking hand in hand down the stone streets to our final destination for the afternoon before Carson has to get back to the hotel to do his virtual therapy appointment. I’m so proud of him for prioritizing his mental health, even while we’re on vacation.

“Alright, we’re almost there,” Carson informs me as he looks up from his maps app.

“And where would ‘there’ be?” I press.

“It’s a place I think you’ll like,” he vaguely replies.

And when we stand outside of the Libreria Acqua Alta, I leap into Carson’s arms.

“Stop it! This is the only place I researched and wanted to go while we were here. I was going to suggest we come tomorrow,” I squeal in delight as I take in the exterior of the iconic bookstore. There is actually a wooden sign in front that says “Welcome to the most beautiful bookshop in the world.”

Carson chuckles at my excitement. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Dream Girl. Now, let’s get in there and shop ‘til we drop.”

When we get inside the bookstore, Carson’s eyes widen at the cluttered chaos surrounding us.

“What happened here?” he whispers out of the side of his mouth as he takes in the stacks and stacks of books in bathtubs, gondolas, and disorganized shelves.

“This is why this place is so iconic. Sometimes the city floods, so they put the books in these bathtubs and boats so they won’t get ruined,” I explain.

“Yeah, but how are you supposed to find the book you’re looking for?” he questions.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to come to this bookstore with a particular book in mind. It’s more about uncovering a hidden treasure.”

“Oh my gosh, is that an actual fricken cat?”

Before I can answer his question, Carson goes up and pets the black cat perched on top of a book stack. It immediately purrs in content from his attention.

“You’re a cute guy, aren’t you? With your big green eyes and your little purrs of perfection,” Carson coos to the cat. “You know, I have a thing for green eyes.” He nods his head toward me. “My girl over there has the most bewitching emerald eyes. I think you’ll like her too. But lay off the charm, I don’t share.”

“I didn’t realize you were a cat person. You and Kenna’s dog seem so close,” I interrupt his conversation with the cat.

“Ranger is the greatest dog of all time, hands down. But I don’t discriminate. I like a good pussy as much as the next guy.” He tries to play off his comment with a shrug.

I playfully hit his arm. “We’re in public. What is wrong with you?”

He bends over in laughter. “Easy, Austen. You’ll upset the little guy. How about I chill over here with my new friend while you go treasure hunting,” he suggests.

“Alright, be back soon,” I tell him as I reach up on my tiptoes to smack a chaste kiss on his cheek and give the cat a quick scratch behind the ears.

I’m still on cloud nine almost two hours later as I finish doing my hair and makeup while Carson is on the video call with his therapist. When I walk back into our bedroom to get dressed, I halt when I spot something on the bed.

There is a familiar black dress on the bed, a pair of black stiletto pumps that have red bottoms, a black clutch, and a pair of what look to be diamond stud earrings. There is a note on top of the dress:

Dream Girl,

I know you said you didn’t need this dress, but it was made to be worn by you. Do me a favor? Put this on and meet me in the lobby at six. I can’t wait to continue our first date.

Xoxo,

Golden Boy

Damn him for being the sweetest man in the world. I can’t find it in me to be upset with him for purchasing the dress when he was doing it out of the kindness of his heart.

After pacing in front of the bed a few times, I let out a defeated sigh and slip on the Versace dress and Louboutin heels. Grabbing the earrings, I stand in front of the full length mirror in our room and with shaky hands, fasten them in each ear.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I grab my phone and the clutch from the bed and check the time. I take the steps down to the lobby, where Carson stands at the base of the steps with his back to me.

I feel like Rose in Titanic when Jack is waiting at the base of the steps for her. This moment turns even more surreal as Carson turns toward me in his sky blue suit that makes his eyes look like an even lighter shade of aqua, and the most enigmatic smile spreads across his face.

“Austen,” he breathes when I get to the bottom of the stairs. “You look fucking exquisite.”

No matter how many times he compliments me, I still blush each time.

“Thank you. For the compliment and the outfit. You shouldn’t have, but I love the gesture nonetheless.” I pause to take him in, grabbing the lapel of his jacket. “You look very suave in this suit.”

With me still standing on the last step in heels, I come as close as I’ll probably get to being eye-level with Carson. He wraps me in his arms and kisses me like he’s been deprived for months instead of hours.

When he pulls away, his eyes are hazy with lust. “If I wasn’t starving right now, I’d take you back up those steps and have my way with you,” he admits as his stomach grumbles.

I mock gasp. “My lord, you use such dishonorable language.”

Leaning in, he brushes my hair back. “I have no intention of doing honorable things with you tonight, my lady,” he rasps before nipping at my ear.

The move has my nipples pebbling and desire pooling in my core.

We walk hand in hand to a restaurant in the hotel that looks like we’re sitting at a bar top of a private kitchen.

“What is this?” I ask Carson as I take in the space.

“We’re actually doing a private cooking class with the executive chef this evening,” he informs me as he shrugs out of his suit jacket and sets it on the back of a bar stool.

“Wait, for real?”

“Yeah, I figured there’s no better place to learn how to cook for my girlfriend than Italy.”

Before I can say anything else, the chef enters to begin our cooking lesson. He hands us each an apron, and when I go to tie mine around my waist, Carson places his hands on mine. “May I?” he asks. The combination of his touch and his deep baritone sends a shiver down my spine.

I nod in response, my words getting caught in my throat. When he’s done tying my apron, he rubs his hands up and down my arms, which are now covered in goosebumps.

“Are you cold?”

Shaking my head, I clear my throat. “No. I just caught a chill. I’m fine.”

I turn around to find Carson undoing the cuff buttons on his crisp, white dress shirt before he starts rolling the sleeves. I’m once again mesmerized by the way his forearms work.

“Oh, that is definitely going in my book,” I mumble to myself.

Carson turns to face me. His smile is smug like he knows how much he affects me. “I'm glad I could spark some inspiration.”

“There’s still so much that remains left to my imagination though.” I wink at him.

He bites his lip and chuckles at that. “Be careful what you wish for.”

After we learn how to make our own casoncelli pasta, the chef leaves the two of us to enjoy our meal.

Carson moans when he takes the first bite. “Mmm. Is it always better when you make it yourself, or is it just because we’re eating a homemade meal in Italy?”

“I think even if we tried to replicate this exact recipe back home, it would never measure up because of the ingredients being locally sourced here,” I reply.

“You’re probably right,” he says as he wipes his mouth with his napkin. “So, now that we’re officially a couple, I feel like I’ve got to ask the hard-hitting questions,” he tells me.

“Is that so? Such as?” I roll my fork in the air as if to say, Go on .

Taking a sip of his wine, he begins with, “Would you consider getting married again one day?”

Not anticipating that question right off the bat, I nearly choke. Taking a sip of wine and clearing my throat, I reply, “Woah, you really went for it, didn’t you? Um, well, yeah I think I would if I was confident that the relationship was healthy, and I was truly in love.”

And that’s the honest truth. I really could see myself getting married again one day. But I know if I do, I won’t go into the marriage lightly.

“What about you? Do you see yourself getting married one day?” I ask.

“Honestly, I never thought too much about it until recently. I knew I wanted what my parents have—a loving relationship and someone to share my life with—but I didn’t put much thought into it beyond that. But now, yeah, I know I’d like to be married one day,” he responds.

Butterflies take flight in my stomach once again from his words and how confident he is in his answer.

“What about kids?” The question slips from my lips before I’ve even processed what I’ve asked. But I need to know his answer. The topic was a major point of contention with Aaron. He only wanted kids to fulfill his parents’ wishes.

Carson’s face lights up with a genuine smile. “Yeah, without a doubt, I want kids. And you?”

I take a hesitant breath. “I do. I’ve wanted to be a mother for as long as I can remember. I think I’d like two so we’re not outnumbered. But I guess I’d be willing to see after the first two whether or not our family is complete.”

“We’re talking about our future children on the first date. I can hear the church bells already, Austen,” he teases.

My cheeks heat as the realization sinks in. I just said “so we’re not outnumbered” and “our family” to him. He chuckles when I hide my face in my hands.

“I love it when you’re bashful. And I love it when you include me in your future, Dream Girl. In case the nickname wasn’t obvious enough, you’re all I see when I think of my future. Marriage, children, pets, careers—I only see you by my side when I think of them.”

He’s looking at me with such hope and sincerity shining in his eyes, that I can’t help but give him a piece of me in return.

“I see you too,” I confess. “But I’m scared that my feelings for you are too strong too fast,” I add.

Instead of the frown I expect to see on his face, his smug smile has returned. “You like me,” he states, not asking.

Shaking my head at his antics, I chortle. “I do,” I admit to him, and his expression heats. The way he’s looking at me right now is downright sinful.

“Don’t do that,” I demand, pointing my finger at his face.

“What?”

“Don’t give me that look.”

“What look, Austen?” His face breaks out in a smile, and he can barely ask the question through his laughter.

“Don’t try to distract me with those bedroom eyes. I can feel you undressing me with your gaze, Mr. Wilder. Not here.”

“I can’t help it. Look at you.” Carson gets up from his chair, grabs his suit jacket, and then offers his hand out to me. “Come with me, the night isn’t over yet.”

I lace my fingers through his and follow him through the lobby to the hotel’s dock on the Grand Canal, where a beautiful gondola is waiting for us.

“Would it be okay if we took dessert to go?” Carson asks, nodding his head at the gondola.

“I’d love nothing more,” I tell him.

Once we’re situated in the gondola, Carson offers his suit jacket to me. It’s a little brisk this evening, and he knows the Texan in me isn’t as acclimated to the cold as he is. When I’ve got it on, I inhale his masculine scent and bask in the way he wraps his arm around me.

We sit in comfortable silence as we take in the beautiful scenery, which is enhanced at night by the lanterns from the shops, restaurants, hotels, and homes along the Grand Canal reflecting off the water. Carson pours us champagne, and we eat Tiramisù.

After dessert, my mind is still racing from our discussion during dinner, and I decide to ask some questions of my own.

Turning in his arms, I look up at him. “Alright, Golden Boy, it’s my turn. Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

That earns me a deep chuckle. “I didn’t realize I needed to prep for an interview tonight. Well, I hope like hell I’m still playing the game I love. It’s weird. This trip will be the longest I’ve ever gone without ice beneath my feet. After only a week, I’ve already found myself missing it, which I think is a good thing because it means I’m playing a game I still love. But I’m ready for a life beyond just hockey, so I’d hope that in ten years, I’d be continuing to build and prioritize my family—a wife, kids, maybe a few pets.”

“That was a good answer,” I hum as I burrow my head against his chest.

“Aside from becoming a best-selling author, what is your ten-year plan?”

“I just want to write stories that I’m passionate about—that bring me joy. I’m under no illusion that they’ll become bestsellers, but I think it’d be pretty cool if one day a book I wrote was someone’s favorite book,” I admit before continuing, “I too would like to build a family. I’ve always wanted a pet, but with my mom raising us on her own after my dad died, she said adding an indoor animal to the mix was too much.”

“What about geographically? Where do you see yourself?” he asks.

I pause to think about it. “In my heart, I’ll always be a Texan. But I’ve recently given pieces of my heart to a few people who live in Minnesota, so if all goes well, I’d see myself in the Midwest.”

Carson hums in response before adding, “And would you be opposed to moving around if you had to?”

“No. I mean, I’d be devastated if I couldn’t nanny Cadence anymore, and I’ve grown quite attached to Kenna. But if I were to move somewhere else with Uncle Car Car, I’d at least get to visit them a lot.”

“So often that Mack would get sick of us. Though, if I’m lucky enough to stay in Minnesota, what would your thoughts be on having a place in Texas to visit during the off-season?”

The question hangs between us for a moment before I reply, “I think my mama would be upset that you wasted your hard-earned dollars on a place when she’s got more than enough space for us to stay on the ranch.”

“Which brings me to my next question . . . when do I get to officially meet my future in-laws?”

I swat at his chest again, and he bends over in laughter.

“Right, right, right . . . too soon. Moving on to safer questions. What kind of pets are we talking?” Carson questions.

“That cat today was cute,” I suggest. “I think I’d also like a dog someday. Seeing Cadence and Ranger together has converted me into a dog lover.”

“I loved having a dog growing up and would like that for our kids one day. As for the cat, he was so fucking cute. One of the workers told me his name was Omen, which I said was badass. What would you name our future dog and cat?”

I don’t even tease him over the fact that he just did what I did back at dinner—talking about the future as if it’s ours . And I think it’s because I like making plans with him. Even though it scares the shit out of me, I also can’t imagine Carson not being a part of my life now that he’s in it.

“I mean, that depends on so many things. What kind of dog or cat is it? What color is their fur? It’s impossible to say if a name would suit them.”

“Okay, I could see that. But now you’ve got me curious, and this is kind of a dealbreaker for me, so just take that into account.”

My stomach twists with nerves in anticipation of his question.

“When we have kids one day, are you going to want to find out the gender ahead of time or wait until the baby is born?”

I let out an unattractive snort that is also somewhat of a sigh. “Oh my gosh, Carson. You had my mind racing thinking about what you were going to ask, and then you asked that . Who says their dealbreaker is whether or not a gender is revealed?”

“Hey!” He feigns hurt. “I just think it’s important to be on the same page about these things.”

“What if the baby doesn’t cooperate, and you can’t determine the gender until he or she is born?” I counter.

“Well, then I’ll have my answer—only a stubborn little girl who’s just like her mama would make me wait longer than necessary for something I want.”

Holy. Shit. I think future daddy Carson is going to melt hearts one day when he holds his baby in his arms. And now I’ve got images in my head of that baby being ours. Would they have his eyes? His blonde hair? God, I hope they’d get his patience and caring heart.

“So, what’s your answer?” he presses, pulling me from my daydream.

“Um, I think I’d like to know ahead of time, if possible.”

Carson pumps his fist in the air. “I knew you were my dream girl!”

When the gondola pulls back up to the hotel’s dock, Carson guides me inside and up the staircase.

“Come here. I want to show you something,” Carson says as he leads me down the hallway opposite of our room. He pushes open an intricately carved set of double doors that leads us to what appears to be a library. It’s dark outside, so it’s hard to make out the room from only the dim lighting of the wall sconces.

“I thought this would be a good spot to do some of your writing while you’re here. There’s a few books about the different places we’re visiting while we’re in Italy that I wanted to read too. You know, if having company while you write isn’t too distracting.”

Throwing my arms around his waist, I squeeze him with everything I have. “Thank you for being so thoughtful—for just being you .”

Lifting up onto my tiptoes, I press my lips to his. It’s a whisper of a kiss—he ghosts his fingers over my collarbone, tracing a line up to my jaw before tangling his fingers in my hair and tugging softly.

When he breaks the kiss, he leans down. “I think it’s about time we turn in for the night,” he murmurs into my ear, brushing his lips along the slope of my neck.

My heart begins to race erratically in anticipation of what’s to come. We somehow make it back to our room before he lifts me up and presses me against the wooden door.

Our kiss is heated, frantic, even. “Tell me you need me as much as I need you, Austen.”

I pant, desperately trying to catch my breath. “I need you, Carson. I need to feel all of you.”

He growls his approval at my compliance as he carries me into the bedroom and places me on my feet. With his hand resting over the zipper on the back of my dress, he asks, “May I?”

I nod in response before his request from last night that I give him my words rings in my head. “Yes,” I breathe out.

He unzips my dress at a torturously slow rate until it finally falls to the floor. When I turn to face him in nothing but a black lace lingerie set, Carson’s eyes darken with desire.

“You’re ravishing, darling. Come here,” he requests.

I go to him, watching his jaw tick as if he’s barely able to keep it together right now. My core tightens with need when he picks me up, bringing me in for a searing kiss before setting me on the bed. I watch Carson undress with rapt attention, taking in the way his muscles flex as he tosses his shirt to the ground before he goes to undo his belt buckle. He stops when he looks up and finds me watching him.

Crawling toward him, I kneel on the edge of the bed and reach for his belt. The sound of his buckle clanging, followed by his zipper opening, only enhances my impatience to have his body against mine once more. I make haste as I strip him of his pants and briefs at the same time. When his cock springs free, I gasp as I take it in for the first time. He is so thick and long that I worry he’ll split me in two.

“Carson,” I stammer, gripping his cock in my hand and moaning when I realize I can’t close my fist around it. “There’s no way,” I state. His abs clench in response to my touch.

“Fuuuuckk,” he grinds out through clenched teeth. “I didn’t take you for a quitter, Austen.”

I scoff at that. “I’m not a quitter, but this will destroy me.” I squeeze my fist so he knows what I’m talking about.

“Good. I was hoping to ruin you for anyone else.” His gruff voice turns my nipples impossibly hard.

Oh, fuck. That was stupid hot.

Carson leans down to kiss me before lifting me into his arms. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I feel his length against my center. He walks us toward the fireplace as I get lost in the feel of his lips, pulling him closer as I tangle my fingers through his hair.

When he places me on the mantle of the marble fireplace and breaks our kiss, I let out a yelp. “Carson! What are you doing? It’ll break!”

“Nothing is going to break. You’re tiny, Dakota.” He stands between my legs and begins trailing kisses down my chest as he unclasps my bra with one hand and tosses it over his shoulder. The moment he takes my nipple into his mouth, my hips lurch forward, searching for friction.

Before I can plead for more, Carson reads my mind, pushing the fabric of my thong aside as he circles his fingers through my drenched entrance.

“Mmm, Austen,” he growls against my breast. He begins kissing down my stomach but looks up as he does, his eyes locking with mine are molten with desire when he says, “I need to taste you.”

“Lord, have mercy on me,” I plead but don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until I feel the vibration of Carson’s chuckle against my clit. I nearly shoot off the mantle from the sensation, but grip a hold through his hair instead.

He flattens his tongue and glides it from my opening through my slit where he begins lapping my overly sensitive clit. And in this moment, I realize I am at the mercy of no one other than Carson Wilder. When he works two fingers inside me and begins pumping them, my legs start to shake frantically as I feel the brink of my orgasm pull at my core.

“Oh, yes! Just like that,” I chant through bated breaths.

When he plunges his long fingers deeper, hitting the most delicious spot, black dots begin to spot my vision and my legs convulse against his shoulders. The moment he sucks my clit while fervently flicking my clit with his tongue, I shoot off the mantle and barrel toward an earth-shattering orgasm. Carson doesn’t miss a beat, without ever breaking his mouth from my pussy, he stands to full height while I’m on his shoulders, his fingers still thrust inside me, and holds me while I ride out my orgasm.

I’ve only just come back down to earth when he sets me on the bed and pulls my panties off. He leans over and begins kissing my inner thigh and I stop him with my foot against his shoulder. “Nuh uh,” I tsk. “It’s my turn to taste you,” I tell him.

Sitting up, I go to kneel before him when he shakes his head at me, tapping his hand on the edge of the bed as he says, “Lay on your back and put your head right here, Austen.”

I stare at him in confusion but do as he said.

“I’m big,” he starts and I cut him off with a snort.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” I sass.

“Careful, Kota. I might just fuck the snark right out of that mouth of yours,” he warns.

“Promises, promises,” I say before I even realize what I’m pushing him to do.

He peers down at me and shakes his head. “Like I was saying . . . I’m big, so with your head angled like this, you should be able to take more of me.”

“What little faith you have in me, Carsey. Have you ever been given head by someone who doesn’t have a gag reflex?”

I think I hear him whimper at my question, and it makes me feel powerful, urging me on.

“Fuck my face already, Golden Boy,” I taunt.

With my head resting on the edge of the bed, Carson nudges his cock against my lips, and I open for him, licking a line from his tip to the base. When I take him into my mouth, he lets out a low groan as he bends forward and sucks my clit into his mouth again.

He thrusts his hips forward, hitting the back of my throat, and I smile around his cock when I realize I’ve taken him all. A small chuckle gets caught in my throat when he pulls back and thrusts back in. Wanting to make him lose control, to be the first to come, I roll his balls in my hand and hum around his length.

“Holy shit!” he growls against my clit.

As if he can sense the unspoken challenge between us, he wraps my legs around his head and begins to feast on my pussy.

“Hold on tight,” Carson commands before surprising the hell out of me when he lifts me off the bed, my mouth still around his cock. Again, he doesn’t miss a beat with me upside down in his arms. The feral way he is devouring me has me gushing with arousal.

I realize he’s only holding me up with one arm when he plunges his fingers back into me.

This is the hottest fucking thing that has ever happened to me.

I’ve barely a moment to think that when he begins pistoning his hips, fucking my face with fervor. I take him to the back of my throat and gently scrape my teeth along his length as he pulls back, sucking hard on his tip.

“Oh, fuck!” he grunts. “Dakota, fuck, I’m going to come.” He tries to pull away.

Gripping his thighs, I urge him deeper, not giving him the option to pull out.

“You want me to come down your throat while you come on my tongue?” he questions before hooking his fingers so deep inside me I see stars again. Though, I’m not sure if it’s the blood rushing to my head or the impending second orgasm.

Nodding my head in reply, I take him deep again, using my teeth a second time. His cock swells in my mouth just as a sensation I’ve never felt before pools at the base of my spine. Tension pulls taut at my core, and when Carson’s tongue rapidly flicks at my clit again, the pressure in my core releases and I have the most intense orgasm of my life.

Did I just . . . ? Holy shit, I did. I just squirted. On his fucking face.

Carson lets out a feral growl as his cock pulses in my mouth and he comes down my throat and I moan as I swallow him down. His legs shudder beneath my palms, as he pulls out of my mouth.

In a move I’m not sure how he pulls off, he swings my other leg over his head, hikes me up over his shoulder, and makes his way into the bathroom. Setting me down, he starts the shower before pulling me into his chest.

“You. Are. My. Dream. Girl,” he tells me, punctuating each word with a kiss. Carson holds my head in his hands as he gazes longingly into my eyes. “How fucking privileged am I to call you mine?” I don’t get a chance to utter a single word before his lips crash against mine. Steam begins to fog the bathroom by the time we come up for air.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up so I can fall asleep with my girlfriend on my chest again.”

My heart expands in my chest as he and I take turns washing each other with care. The feelings I have for this man eclipse all others I’ve ever felt before. It’s at this moment, as I’m safely wrapped in his arms in Venice, that I realize I’ve fallen inescapably in love with Carson Wilder on only our first date.