Fake Engagement, Real Temptation

“Yes,” a guttural sound came out with the admission. Her eyes snapped back to his. “Of course I want you, Carrie.”

Because goddamn him, he wouldn’t refuse her in this moment if that was what would cause her pain.

“Then take me. This is what I want.”

“The fantasy?” he clarified. It was her turn to pause. But she finally nodded.

“Your whole purpose coming here was to help me move on, gain confidence, keep me safe, and let me experience an adventure?”

“Yes.”

“Then help me experience the adventure in its entirety. I want you. Now.”

He tilted his head to the side, examining her. He recognized that little flare in her voice. She was taunting him. As if the slow, emotional moment they were in only held them immobile. If Blake was going to cross a threshold and burn the bridge he walked over to get there, part of him needed to do it like a crazed fiend with no sense beyond the moment.

And judging by the look in Carrie’s eyes, she knew it, too.

“Unless your word is no good?” she taunted. “Maybe you’re shy?”

His blood was boiling, and she cleared her throat and laid back a little, examining her fingernails, then slowly trailing them down her stomach.

“You know, part of my fantasy is to be completely taken over by a man. Feel his strength, have him toss me around a little. Slap my ass. Make me beg.” Her hand went lower. “But maybe you’re not the man for the job.”

Boiling point reached.

His entire body lit up like firecrackers had gone off in his veins. Maybe it was the tension rising over the past week, or maybe it was Carrie tapping into everything he wanted to do and was more than capable of.

But he saw only her, and if this is what she wanted, by God, he’d deliver.

He flew to the bed, grabbed her wrists, and yanked them over her head, pinning her on her back. Face-to-face, he leaned down so she could feel his lips when he said, “If you really want to go through with this, we will. But don’t you dare touch yourself, thinking of me, and expect me not to respond.”

She took a heavy breath and gently bit his lower lip. “Oh, I’m ready for your response.”

With that he crushed her mouth with his.

…

Carrie would have grabbed tightly to Blake, but he held her wrists over her head. She was writhing trying to get near him. To touch him. To take him up on his offer.

Rules were gone.

All pretense was gone.

She needed him.

All of him.

Blake was savage against her. As if holding out was hurting him as much as it was hurting her. Whatever step they were taking toward something real, she didn’t care. At least she felt loved and desired by him in a way that had never happened with Kevin.

“I want you.” She wiggled, trying to get out of his grip, but he held fast. His big sweaty body on hers, making her feel small and delicate. He gathered her wrists into one of his hands and cupped her between the legs.

“You’ll have me,” he said, rubbing her already wet core. He grinned and leaned down to suck her breast beneath the silk night gown, leaving the damp fabric clinging to her pouting nipple. “You were close earlier,” he said, still rubbing his fingers along her folds, dipping inside her just an inch, then returning to rub newly moistened fingers against her clit.

She gasped.

“Yes, I was close.”

“Mmmm,” he rubbed faster. “Were you thinking of me?”