Page 42

Wren

T he front door slams shut behind us.

Carson lifts me into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world, carrying me straight to my bedroom.

Keeping my lips away from his becomes increasingly impossible the more I taste him. After years of longing for this very moment, we both crave everything we can get from each other.

My hands rake through his inky black hair as we kiss—desperate, consuming, relentless.

“Wren, we don’t have to?—”

“Yes. We do.”

He nods and hums in approval of my desire for him, our teeth colliding as we seek a deeper connection.

The sundress I was wearing lies in a heap on the hallway floor, right next to his navy blue shirt that matches his eyes perfectly. He lays me down like I’m something to be worshiped, his calloused hands reverent against my bare skin.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers. “And I’m gonna taste every inch of you this time, Tink.”

His warm breath lightly sweeps over my ear, sending a flurry of butterflies through my stomach as my breathing becomes more labored.

Light, peppered kisses trail down my body until he reaches my panties. His eyes lock onto mine as he pulls down the yellow lace, tossing it to the floor.

“You wear those for me, don’t you?” he questions, his voice hot against my skin.

Of course I do. I’ve always loved yellow, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know it was his favorite color and the first thing that came to mind when I bought them.

I nod.

His approving growl causes me to let out a whimper. This still doesn’t feel real to me.

After wanting this for so long, it doesn’t seem possible that it’s happening. That we are happening.

All my worries about the reality of this quickly vanish as his tongue drags up my entrance.

I let out an embarrassing moan and quickly cover my mouth to muffle the sound.

“I don’t think so, Tink.”

Carson stands from the bed and opens the drawer of my nightstand. He quickly retrieves the black box he left here weeks ago.

“There will be none of that, love. I wanna hear every sound I cause to pass these lips. Do you understand?”

I nod, and he arches a brow.

“Yes,” I quickly correct as a cuff clicks around my wrist.

He smirks. “That’s my girl.”

After he’s pulled every last sound from me with his skilled tongue, I’m left panting beneath him, his body pinning mine.

His scruffy jaw grazes across my body as he trails kisses back up to my neck. After he releases my wrists, I rake my fingers through his raven hair, losing myself in his eyes in the darkening room.

When he gently presses another kiss to my lips, I sense his body beginning to leave mine.

“What are you doin’?” I whisper, my fingers tightening into his biceps as I pull him back toward me.

“Wren, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

I shake my head. “No,” I mutter. “I want everything. With you, I want everything .”

His hungry eyes flash to my lips before he pulls me into his arms, devouring my mouth with his again. His hard length presses against my stomach.

Swallowing my nerves, I reach down between us and rub him over his jeans.

A groan vibrates from his throat as he leans his forehead against mine. “ Fuck . I need inside of you right now, Tink.”

“I need that too,” I confess breathlessly, stroking my hand over him once more.

He kisses me again before quickly removing his pants and repositioning himself on top of me. The tip of his length meets my sensitive entrance. After the orgasm he already gave me, I know the next one will be fast.

“Are you mine, Tink?” he whispers, his thumb brushing the hair from my face as his lips ghost above mine.

That’s probably the easiest question I’ll ever answer. He could have asked me twenty years ago, and the answer would still be the same.

I nod, my fingertips digging into his ink-covered skin.

A loud moan bursts from my throat as he thrusts inside of me. He’s not taking it easy by inching in slowly; he’s fully inside of me, and I feel every glorious inch. The stretch from his size burns, but it’s a pain that satisfies a starved part of me.

I cry out again when he pulls back and then thrusts in, rocking the metal bedframe against the wall. My nails rake down his back as he lets out a hiss of pleasure.

“That’s it, Tink. Let me feel how much you love it,” he purrs into my ear.

My hands slide down his back, slipping to the curve of his ass. Another thrust hitting unimaginable places makes me scream his name as my nails bury deeper into his skin.

“Fuck!” he grunts. “I love your nails in me, but maybe you’d like it better if I tied these pretty hands up?”

I shake my head, feeling the climax coming. “No,” I whimper. “Please, just…” I lose my ability to speak when he rocks faster.

“Please, what?”

He slows his movements, his fists wrapping into my hair and tugging. The burn on my scalp quickly turns into another sensation I crave.

“Words, love. Tell me what you want,” he murmurs before nipping at my ear.

“I just want you to…”

“Say it.”

He gives a punishing thrust and pulls out slowly. “Come on, Tink, let me hear you say it.”

He toys with my entrance, offering just the slightest tease of him now. I’m so close to the edge that I’ll fall with just the slightest touch.

“ Fuck me! ” I growl in frustration, my nails now pressing into his thighs.

He gives me a satisfied grin. “That’s it, my dirty-mouthed girl. I’ll give you everything you want.”

His lips crash into mine, our tongues tangling. When he pulls back, I gasp for air, trying to remember how to breathe as he moves inside of me.

We both dive over the edge together, screaming in pleasure as the stars burst in my eyes. He empties inside me, a rush of warmth filling me.

His movements slow once more as his forehead presses against mine, panting for air.

When he finally lies down beside me, he pulls me close into his arms, a long kiss landing softly on the top of my head.

Lying in his firm grasp, my fingers trail over his chest. A million and one thoughts should be swirling through my head right now, but all I can think about is one: Carson Matthews is lying naked beside me, and I’ve never been happier.

Sunlight blinds me as I step into the kitchen the next morning, the scent of coffee hanging in the air.

How late did I sleep?

Walking into the kitchen, I’m greeted by a shirtless Carson sliding a pan into the oven.

“Hey,” I say, voice scratchy, still dazed from the night before.

He wipes his hands on a towel and gives me that crooked grin that makes my whole body remember everything.

“Mornin’. Sleep well?”

The stubble lining his jaw sparks heat low in my belly. My skin still tingles from the memory of it scraping across every inch of me.

I nod slowly. “Yeah… You?”

A smirk is all I get before he strides over, wrapping me in his embrace, his large hands gripping my backside.

Brows furrowed, he shakes his head. “These little pajamas of yours have always been a problem for me, Wren.”

“What? Why?” I glance down at the lavender tank and shorts, suddenly aware of how little they cover.

He leans in, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Because I’ve wanted to tear them off with my teeth since the first time I saw you in them. And now?”

His breath fans hot across my skin. “Now I get to.”

In one smooth move, he lifts me onto the table. I gasp as the cold glass kisses the backs of my thighs.

“I’m cookin’ you breakfast,” he states, voice low and rough. “Now sit there and let me have mine.”

He drops to his knees, and heat blooms between my thighs.

My shorts are gone before I can blink, his palms nudging my legs wide. I lean back, arms braced behind me, the glass slick beneath my hands.

“No panties for me this mornin’, love?”

I bite my cheek and shake my head, warmth rising up my chest.

His mouth curves into something dark and delicious. “You wanted me to have another taste, didn’t you?”

His finger circles my clit—light, teasing, maddening—his gaze locked on mine, daring me to deny it.

“Yes,” I breathe, the word slipping out on a whimper.

He hums low in his throat. “Good girl.”

His touch pauses, his expression darkening with something fierce and possessive. “Don’t wear this outfit around anyone else anymore. Now that I know what’s underneath… I’d hate to break someone’s nose.”

A shiver rolls through me—equal parts arousal and something deeper.

Then he leans in, mouth claiming me like he needs the taste to stay sane.

He doesn’t rush. Just licks and teases like he has nowhere else to be. Like this is the only thing that matters.

“I could never get tired of the taste of you on my tongue,” he murmurs, dragging it slowly over me again and again, until I’m trembling, toes curling against the cool surface.

By the time I’m crying out his name—again—my fingers tangled in his hair like it’s the only thing tethering me to Earth, I can’t take another second.

My breath comes in short, shaky bursts as I sit up and reach for him.

“I need more of you,” I whisper, tugging at his jeans, my fingers clutching the waistband like it might disappear if I let go.

His zipper drops, and he’s inside of me—deep and hard—before I can even say please …and I would have.

He moves with purpose, claiming every bit of me.

I’ve learned this about him already—he delights in control. In bending me. In pushing me right to the edge. And I love every second of it.

Letting him take over last night let me feel things I’ve never felt before—raw, alive, wanted.

He doesn’t just make me feel good—he makes me feel safe . Seen . Desired in a way that no longer scares me.

Giving him all the control—letting him be the one doing all the thinking—allows me to finally feel .

His approval? Addictive.

His dominance? Electric.

Last night, something inside me lit up. Watching his eyes darken as I did everything he asked—exactly how he wanted—only made me want more.

And the truth? I do want more.

I crave it.

I trust him completely. I know he’d never hurt me—unless I asked him to—and even then, only just enough.

The sharp stretch of him inside me sends my thoughts scattering. Before I even know which way is up, I’m pulsing around him as he releases with a growl.

“Fuck, you feel good, Tink. I hate?—”

He stops, eyes squeezing shut.

“Hate what?” I ask softly, trailing my fingers across his chest as he pulls out of me.

He exhales. “That I took so long to let this happen.”

His lips press to mine—slow and soft—before he helps me down from the table, a trail of evidence sliding down my thigh.

“Here, let me grab a?—”

“No, it’s fine.” I wave him off, rising onto tiptoes to kiss him again.

As I walk toward the bathroom, I peek over my shoulder one last time.

There he is—shirtless, pants unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips, casually reaching for a pan like he didn’t just wreck me six ways from Sunday.

Sex somewhere other than a bedroom. Check.

Looks like I’m back to working on my list.

And let’s just say… Carson was more than happy to help.

Hair pulling. Hand necklace. Check and double check.

He even whispered a few more ideas into my ear while we lay together in the early hours of the morning—things that had my mind racing, my cheeks blushing, and my pulse soaring to new heights.

As I pad down the hallway, the excitement buzzing under my skin is impossible to ignore.

Yeah…

I can’t wait to try them all .

“Bitch, you better spill this time.” Indie barges in and flops onto the couch.

Once Carson left for work, I found my phone in the bathroom, where I had left it last night. There were a few missed calls and twice as many texts.

I knew once I told Ind that she could come over, she’d be here in a flash—and she was.

I sit on the opposite end of the couch, ready to talk to my friend about all that has happened in the last twenty-four hours.

Well, not all … But most.

“Wait, wait, wait.” She stops me before I can even open my mouth. “Let me grab a snack first. Y’all are freaks—I just know it. This is gonna be fuckin’ good!”

She scurries into the kitchen, and I chuckle at her enthusiasm.

But that doesn’t last long before her voice shouting from the kitchen leaves me feeling mortified.

“Wren Beckett—is this an ass cheek on your kitchen table?!”