Page 29

28

September

“ O h, you were supposed to take that turn,” I inform Carson as we make our way back home from the airport.

“I know.” His gaze dances with mirth as he sneaks a glance at me.

“So, you missed the turn on purpose?”

“Yeah, this way is longer and has more stop signs,” he says as he pulls the truck to a stop, leans over the center console and places a whisper of a kiss on my lips.

My cheeks heat from the quickening of my pulse. This man. This unabashedly wonderful man. He can’t be real, can he?

“Mmm. I can’t wait to get you home and suffocate you with snuggles. I’m feeling like I want to wrap around you like a koala tonight.” My man loves to cuddle, which, let’s be honest, Carson was never going to not be a boyfriend who cuddles. And it’s not that I don’t like to snuggle, but this man becomes extra clingy when he’s feeling anxious. I can’t for the life of me figure out why he’d be anxious or nervous right now.

When he pulls into the garage a few minutes later, I squeeze his hand three times and he gives me three in return paired with a dazzling smile that I can’t help but mirror. Carson gets out of the truck and quickly rounds the hood to hold open my door for me. Gripping me around my waist, he lifts me out of the truck before wrapping me in his arms.

“Will you do me a favor, Austen? Would you close your eyes when we get upstairs? I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you.”

I chuckle in response. “Your dick better not be the surprise, Golden Boy. While I’m thoroughly impressed by it, I don’t consider it surprising at this point.”

“Yeah right. What about last night when I fucked you so deep you said—” I cover his mouth with my hand.

“A cocky attitude will get you nowhere,” I tell him as I pull my hand away.

“My confidence got me this far, Dream Girl. Don’t act like you don’t love me.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lace my fingers together, bringing my lips to his ear. “I’ll never act like I don’t love you, Carson. I’m yours and you are mine. Now quit your bickering and take me upstairs.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Carson sets our suitcases in the laundry room before turning his back to me and squatting down. “Hop up,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, but I’m far too busy admiring his bubble butt in the gray sweatpants he’s wearing.

“Dakota, I’ve got a surprise for you, but if you keep eye fucking me like that, I’ll have my way with you right here in the laundry room.”

That snaps me out of it, because as much as I’d love for that to happen, I’m not someone who has received many surprises in life. Hopping on to his back, I can’t help but let my hands rake over the rigid muscles on his back and shoulders. I nearly let out a whimper when he wraps my legs tighter around his waist, causing my core to rub against his solid lower back.

“Careful, Austen,” he growls out in warning, his gruff voice causing heat to pool in my stomach. I can’t seem to get enough of him; I’ve never been so attracted to another person in my life.

When we get to the top of the stairs, he heads to the left instead of the right where our rooms are. Which brings me to wonder whether we’ll keep separate rooms now that we’re back or if we’ll share like we did on vacation. I’m honestly not sure I could sleep with him across the hall now.

As if he can read my mind he says, “We’ll need to work on moving all of your things to our room before my preseason training camp starts. But your surprise is down this way.”

He tells me to close my eyes when we’re in front of what used to be Cadence’s playroom. I do as he says and listen as he opens the door and takes a step forward.

“I’m going to set you down, but don’t open your eyes just yet.”

“Okay,” I say as he places me on my feet and gives my shoulders a gentle squeeze.

“Alright, open your eyes,” he tells me.

I do, but when the sight before me is too much to take in, I bring my hand to cover my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut again in disbelief.

“Carson,” I whisper, but it echoes in the silence of the room. Opening my eyes again, I start to take in the details of the room that looks nothing like it did when we left for Italy. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

Instead of the bright white and beige playroom, the room is painted a dark hunter green with walls of floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves along three of the walls with beautiful crown molding and a ladder that runs the length of the room. Between the shelves are wall sconces that look like real gas-lit lanterns. In place of the closet that used to be against the one wall, there is now a wooden desk that looks like it’s been custom built for the space. In the corner of the room sits an oversized brown leather chair and a matching ottoman big enough to fit the both of us. A large Persian-style rug covers the hardwood floors and ties in with the colors of the walls and shelves. The ceiling is the same deep green as the walls, but it has an ornate floral pattern to it.

“I had it remodeled while we were gone. It wasn’t quite ready when we were supposed to leave the other day, that’s why we took that little detour,” Carson explains as I continue to take in the room in wonder.

“I don’t know how you managed to pull this off, but thank you so much. This is the greatest surprise I’ve ever been given, Carson.” The tears break free and start to cascade down my face when I see a piece of artwork hanging above the writing desk next to a wooden sign that says “This is where the magic happens.”

As I get closer, I recognize it’s a canvas full of my handwritten notes to Carson. He even wrote the ones I sent him via texts on post-its and had it made into a piece of art.

“One of my love languages is words of affirmation. So, in my mind, you’ve been telling me you love me everyday for the past four months,” Carson explains as he follows me toward the desk. “Look how beautiful your words are, Austen. They’re visual poetry. I want you to type them in your computer, write them on the walls, just like you’ve written them on my heart. You’ve claimed me, whether you meant to or not. There’s no going back to just friends for me now that we’re back home. Because that’s just it, this place isn’t home without you in it. Without you, it’s just walls, plaster and roofing. So be mine forever, Dakota—move in with me and be my home.”

Being with him these past few weeks has taken some getting used to—it’s like I’m retraining my brain after years of experiencing such a polar opposite form of what I thought was love. Carson showers me with adoration and praise. He makes me feel needed, loved and cared for. I’ve never felt more safe and secure than I do in his arms. But I can’t help this tiny voice in the back of my mind that blares that this is all too good to be true. Moving in together, in an official capacity, feels like it should be a decision made with careful consideration.

The moment the suggestion left his lips, I felt the urge to leap into his arms and shout yes. Instead, I find myself breaking eye contact and staring down at the floor, struggling to form a response.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now. I’m sorry if I put pressure on you, that wasn’t my intention. I’m just crazy about you, and I want you to know now that we’re back, no longer on a dreamy vacation, that I’m still all in and completely in love with you.”

I know in my heart I don’t want to push him away or hurt him. But for a moment there, my insecurities had me worried I may be making another mistake blinded by lust. I know for certain that he would never treat me the way Aaron did. My heart knows Carson would never hurt me, never raise his voice at me in anger. But my heart isn’t the one that needs reassurance, it’s my head.

Carson Wilder is a walking green flag. He’s kind, caring, endearing, selfless, the list goes on.

So why am I sitting here making him sweat over a question that I absolutely want to say yes to?

Bracketing my chin between his fingers, he lifts my face so his eyes can meet mine, and when they do, I realize I have nothing to fear. Before I can overthink this any further, I whisper, “Yes.”

“Yes?” he questions. The hope in his eyes has emotion clogging my throat.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll be your home. Always,” I choke out.

He wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground. “Fuck yeah!” he exclaims as he spins us around.

“Quit it. You’re making me dizzy!” I try to catch my breath through my laughter. “And I still need to check out the rest of the room,” I tell him.

He stops spinning, but wraps my legs around his waist instead of placing me back down. Grasping my ass in his hands, he holds me against him and rests his forehead against mine.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am in this moment,” he admits.

“Me either. Is this what you were nervous about earlier?” I question.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never surprised someone with something like this, and I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. Do you like it?”

“I do, it’s amazing.” I don’t hold back the smile that takes over.

“Good,” he says as he places a kiss on each corner of my mouth. “I fucking love seeing you happy.” With a pat on my butt, he sets me down and turns me back around to the room so he can point out different details I may have missed.

“I wasn’t sure where you’d want all of your books, so I had the designer place some of them on the shelves,” he explains before sweeping me over to one of the drawers that is below each shelf. “And in the drawers, I asked them to put some of our board games we’ve accumulated the past few months. Oh, and then because you said you knew how to play chess, I asked for this cool chess board I saw online.” He walks me over to the square coffee table that is next to the oversized chair. There are floor cushions surrounding the coffee table, the perfect spot to sit and play our games together. The chess board is massive, taking up a good portion of the coffee table. Lifting one of the pieces to examine it, I feel the weight of it and ask, “Wait, are these glass?”

He stands beside me, bringing his hand over mine as he brushes his thumb over the ridges of the rook piece. “They are. Half are clear and the other frosted. I saw the board online and knew we had to get it.”

Setting the piece down, I turn to face him. “This is unreal, Carson. I’m amazed they were able to get all of this done while we were gone.”

He scratches at his head and lets out a sheepish sigh. “Me too, honestly, considering I was kind of a diva to work with. I kept making change orders and asking for updates, but it’s only because I wanted it to turn out perfect.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck again, I bring him in for a chaste kiss.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I tell him as I pepper kisses over his jawline. The moment is broken up when his stomach growls so loudly it can’t be ignored.

“Why don’t you look around and I’ll go start a load of laundry and get us some snacks,” he suggests and I can feel the heart eyes I’m staring at him with.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind coming with you and starting the laundry.”

“I’m sure that I want you to sit in here and finish the book you were reading on the plane. Or arrange your shelves. Really anything besides laundry. Does popcorn sound good to you?”

“Yes, extra salt please.”

“Duh, is there any other way to eat it?” Carson gives me another peck before he leaves the room.

I don’t care if it’s cliché, but I do the fairytale spin in the middle of my new library, feeling like a damn queen in her castle.

Carson sets down the bowl of popcorn on the new coffee table in the library.

“Do you want to read some more?” he asks, and when I look up I realize he’s now shirtless, leaving him in only a pair of low-slung gray sweats that match the ones I’ve got on.

Smirking down at me, he catches me ogling him.

“Let me just finish this chapter,” I answer as he sits on the ground beside my chair. Finding myself feeling needier than usual, I slide off the chair and place my head in his lap. Carson tosses popcorn into his mouth, feeding me kernels while I continue reading.

A soft moan escapes my lips when he threads his fingers through my hair and begins massaging my scalp.

“What are you reading?” he asks.

Using my thumb as a bookmark, I close the book to show him the cover. “Do you remember me telling you about my indie author friend I met through Instagram?”

He nods before I continue, “Well, this is her debut and I’m completely obsessed. The MMC has been in love with the FMC for eleven years. Can you imagine waiting to be with the love of your life for eleven years? That man has perfected the art of patience.”

“He sounds like a saint. I could hardly keep it together for a year,” Carse says, making me laugh because his feelings for me became glaringly obvious right around the bachelorette weekend.

“Alright, I’m done with this chapter,” I tell him.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asks, fingers still combing through my hair.

“Could we play a game instead? Maybe Scrabble or chess? Seems like a waste to have such a beautiful chess board and let it sit there as an unused decor piece,” I suggest, placing my book down next to me.

“I didn’t realize you were in the mood to lose. I’m low-key a chess master. Not on an official level, but I don’t lose.”

“Oh, Mr. Bigshot. Put your money where your mouth is. I think you may have met your match,” I tell him as I sit up and take a seat on one of the floor cushions.

“Shall we make things interesting?” Carson asks with a quirked brow when he joins me on the cushion opposite of me.

“What do you have in mind?” I query.

“Strip chess.”

“Strip chess?” I repeat.

“Yeah. One item of clothing for every piece taken. The more valuable the piece, the more significant the item of clothing. Checkmate would obviously be strip naked.”

“Obviously,” I deadpan. “You can’t be serious. You’re hardly wearing any clothing as is,” I suggest waving my arm at his naked chest.

“We’ll both go get more clothes on to make it fair. How about ten items each?” he asks.

“You’re going down, Golden Boy.”

Racing down the hall to my closet, I put on more items of clothing, along with some fuzzy socks and slippers. When I get back to the library, Carson is waiting for me, tossing popcorn in the air and catching it. Why is something so simple so much sexier when he’s doing it? And why for the love of god does he catch me staring every time? He winks at me as I make my way over to the chess board. My panties are going to be a tortured mess once this game is over with.

“Do you want to be the clear glass or the frosted glass?” he asks.

“Is the frosted glass the black pieces?” I question, and when he nods in response, I turn the board around so the frosted glass is in front of him.

“Ladies first,” he suggests.

“More like, the white pieces go first,” I correct as I move my queen’s pawn forward two spaces. Carson doesn’t say anything as a cocksure smile spreads across his face.

“Your cocky attitude is unbecoming,” I inform him.

That makes him chuckle. “You seem especially fond of my cock, Austen.”

I snort in response. “Carson!”

He makes his first move, which is a mirrored move across the board. It doesn’t take long for our articles of clothing to start coming off. And as each item comes off of him, I become increasingly distracted.

Carson’s body is a work of art. He has spent countless hours in the gym and on the ice to earn every inch of muscle on him. I find myself itching to trace his veins and kiss every dip and swell on his body.

“Strip. All of it.”

“What?” I question, still focused on the board, trying to strategize my next move.

That’s when I notice my king piece is knocked over. “Checkmate.”

I’m still staring in shock at the board when he says, “Did you really try to Queen’s Gambit me?”

“Well, yeah, I did.” I scoff as I begin to take off my remaining two items of clothing. When I go to unclasp my bra, Carson pauses my hands.

“Slower,” he commands. “I want to milk this for all it’s worth.”

I do as he requests, slowly dragging the straps of my white lace bra, which happens to be my best matching set, down my arms until my breasts are exposed to him.

In past relationships, I’d felt self conscious about my body, but everything is different with Carson. He makes me feel so beautifully worshiped.

As I hook my fingers into the waistband of my thong, Carson stops me, before lifting me up, and laying me down on the ottoman of the chair. He takes his queen piece from the board and brings it to my lips. He then slowly drags it down the nape of my neck, trailing it over my collarbones, where goosebumps erupt in its wake. My body hums to life with every sliver of skin he touches as he continues down between my breasts until he reaches the delicate lace of my thong.

“I’ve never been so offended by a scrap of fabric in my life,” he murmurs as he grabs a hold of my thong and tears it from my body.

“Carson! Those were my most expensive pair,” I whine.

“I’ll buy you a dozen more tomorrow, Austen. Actually, no. I think I like it better when you go without.”

Without the fabric stopping his progress down my body, Carson sits back on his heels and brings my one ankle to rest on his shoulder, spreading my legs, leaving me completely exposed.

He drags the glass chess piece from my ankle to the back of my knee, causing chills to scatter from the sensitive spot. When he reaches my inner thigh, I fight the urge to clench them together at the sensation.

My body squirms as he teases the queen piece over my slit, before dragging it to my other thigh, I’m so soaked that only one swift pass has the piece drenched.

He circles my opening before dragging the piece up to my clit. My skin burns feverishly as he brings the tension to a precipice.

“Carson, please,” I whimper.

“Is my dream girl feeling needy?” he questions.

“So fucking needy for you,” I reply, desperate for his touch.

Perching myself on my elbows, I watch as Carson drags the piece down my slit before slowly pushing it inside me. The oversized piece feels cool and erotic as he pumps it inside me at a torturous rate.

Knowing I need more without me having to beg for it, he brings his mouth to my core and takes one delicious pass with his flattened tongue. When he sucks my clit and plunges the queen piece deeper, accompanied by his two fingers, I nearly scream from the overwhelming sensation. My core tightens as my orgasm threatens to pull me under. Legs shaking, pussy clenching, and my clit trembling from his mouth, I come completely undone only moments later.

“Carson!” I cry out as I hit the precipice of my orgasm.

Feeling emboldened as he pulls the queen from my pussy, I take it from his hand and drag it over his lips. “Suck it clean for me while I suck your cock, Mr. Wilder.”

“I’d do anything you told me to right now,” Carson croaks before he grabs it from my hands and stands up. I pull his pants and briefs down, the only remaining articles of clothes he had on, and toss them in the pile of clothes.

Pumping his cock a few times, I bring his leaking tip to my mouth and place a whisper of a kiss on it before lapping up his precum. I moan at the taste of him on my tongue.

I take him as deep in my throat as I can, his thickness stretching my lips at the same time as he hits the back of my throat. Trying to take a deep breath through my nose, I can’t hold back the slight gag from his length.

So much for not having a gag reflex.

“Holy. Fuck. Mmm,” he groans out. “Austen, you need to stop or I’m going to come like this and I refuse to come anywhere but your tight cunt.”

Pulling out of my mouth, he lifts me up and presses me up against one of the book shelves.

“From the moment I decided to build this room, I’ve pictured what it’d be like to fuck you just like this. With you pressed against the shelves and desperate for my cock,” he rasps into my ear.

“Then allow me to make another one of your fantasies come true, my lord,” I whisper back as I fist his length in my hand and guide it to my opening.

His essence is laced with passion as he kisses me deeply. When he pushes inside of me, we gasp in unison. Holding me up with one hand below my ass, he grips a shelf with his other and begins to frantically piston his hips against me. With every punishing thrust, my back bumps against the wood. The sound of our flesh smacking against each other makes for one of the most erotic sounds.

“I will never get enough,” Carson growls against the nape of my neck before he clamps down with his teeth then soothes my aching skin by sucking it into his mouth.

Knowing he’s marking me as his, I give in to the need to claim him with marks of my own. Running my nails down the defined muscles of his back has me on the verge of a second orgasm.

“Carson. Don’t. Stop,” I plead, panting to try to catch my breath.

Letting go of the shelf, Carson grips my ass with both hands, and spreads my cheeks. The moment he does, he’s able to penetrate even deeper inside of me, giving me just what I need to unravel for a second time. Whatever he’s doing with his hips right now, it’s mind-bending—life-altering. My pussy flutters around his cock as the heat of my orgasm heats my skin.

He continues to thrust through my release, only setting me down after he’s milked it out of me. My legs wobble as I attempt to stand on my own.

“You good?” he questions.

When I nod in response, leaning against the wood of the shelf for support, he goes back to the chess board. Grabbing the round pawn piece, he asks, “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” I reply.

“Good,” he says as he walks me over to my desk, and bends me over it, pressing my chest against the smooth wood. He drags the pawn down my spine and drenches it in my arousal before pulling my hips back so my ass juts out.

His touch ignites an inferno in my body—every cell alight from just this single trace of his fingers down my spine. He licks down my spine, trailing his fingers and the heat of his tongue is like liquid flames, lapping against my skin and setting me ablaze.

Kneeling behind me, he soaks the pawn in my pussy one more time before dragging it back toward my ass and circling my virgin hole. “Is this okay?” he questions.

“Y-yes,” I breathe out my stuttered response.

Applying a small amount of pressure, the tip of the rounded piece penetrates my ass, and I gasp at the unfamiliar intrusion.

Carson places a kiss on each of the dimples at the base of my spine before he rasps his question against my skin. “Tell me, has anyone ever claimed you here, Austen?”

“Never,” I admit, but it comes out as more of a whimper.

Letting out a groan, Carson stands behind me and nudges the tip of his cock inside my pussy as he slowly works the pawn into my ass, using it as a makeshift plug. I’ve never felt so gloriously full in my life as I do when he bottoms out inside of me, pushing the pawn even deeper.

“Fuuuuckk, Dakota. You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, and that alone has my pussy clenching around him.

“You’re so deep,” I whine in response as he pulls almost completely out before slamming his hips back against mine.

“I need one more,” he growls against my shoulder blades.

Gripping onto the edge of the desk, I tell him, “Fuck me harder and I’ll come one more time for you.”

Carson shifts me so my legs are pressed together, his bracketing mine. “Cross your ankles for me,” he requests. I do as he says, and somehow this has me feeling even more full.

Grabbing my hips, Carson begins to thrust so deeply, I swear I can feel him in my chest. Each punishing slam of his hips against my backside drives the pawn further into me. The cool rigidity of it works me into a quivering mess.

“Ah, Carson!” I cry out as a lone tear of pleasure escapes, trailing down my cheek.

Lifting my hips and placing my knees on the desk, he spreads my knees and pushes down my lower back.

“Be my good girl and come for me,” he chokes out between bated breaths. “I won’t last much longer. You feel too fucking good.”

Reaching between my legs, I cup his balls. As I do, I can feel his cock swell inside of me. Knowing he’s on the edge, accompanied by how full I feel, has my pussy spasming around him as I come so hard I fear I’ll black out at the same time as Carson lets out a guttural groan as he spills inside of me.

“Dakota,” he murmurs against my lower back as we ride out our orgasms.

Carson carefully pulls the pawn out, while he remains inside of me.

“Stay right like this,” he requests as he pulls out of me and I hear his feet pad across the rug.

When he comes back, I feel the cool glass of the queen against my thigh as he drags his release back up my thigh and pushes the piece inside of me.

“Did you just . . .” I trail off before continuing, “use a chess piece as a plug?”

“Twice actually. Before as a butt plug and now a cum plug—we can’t be wasting a single drop, Dream Girl.”

“Carson!” I guffaw.

“Call me a caveman, maybe it’s the primal part of me taking over, either way I fucking love seeing you filled with my cum.”

I stare over my shoulder at him in disbelief. Sitting in this position—with my ass still in the air, and a chest piece inside of me as a plug—I should feel embarrassed or ashamed; instead, I feel revered and empowered.

Carson gives my ass a light smack before scooping me into his arms. “Let’s go take a bath before we christen the rest of the house.”

Being with him these past few weeks has skewed my perception of time, and I’m only now realizing that this was the first time we had sex in his house. Our house. Our home .

It only took a matter of months for Carson to shift from a stranger to a best friend to now, where he has quickly become my whole world. I wouldn’t change a thing about our story, and how lucky are we that it’s only the beginning?