“You look into my eyes when you come around my dick,” he gritted out. “You let me see you.”
My body was not capable of forming words at this current juncture, so I just kept staring at him, in my own version of agreement. How in the fuck could anyone refuse the man inside of them when they said something like that?
A voice told me such a thing was too intimate, too dangerous, but I brushed it away.
Karson didn’t start moving again immediately, no matter how desperate both of us were for him to. He just stayed above me, staring, his skin pressing into mine, his breath hot on my face.
The night was quiet. Deadly quiet. There was nothing but our breathing, my heart. Nothing but this moment that seemed to catch time itself.
I was paralyzed by the closeness I felt to him. A closeness that had nothing to do with his cock being inside of me. It was something else entirely.
Luckily, he started moving before I could inspect what exactly that was.
As much as I wanted to close my eyes, throw my head back in ecstasy when my orgasm shattered me, I didn’t. I did exactly as he had ordered and kept my eyes on his as I thrashed, as I exited reality entirely, as the world turned to sunburst.
And I was rewarded by the incredible sight it was to see Karson fall apart right along with me. His growl echoed through the quiet night, mingling with my moans as we both chased our own pleasure, connected through the eye contact neither of us broke.
I had initially thought that he’d moved us from the sofa because he was much too large to fuck appropriately on it. But it was because fucking on the floor made this something else. Desperate. Carnal. Animalistic.
There were no frills. No handcuffs, toys, blindfolds or even a soft mattress underneath us. No, this was sex stripped down to its very bones. And it blew me off the fucking face of the earth.
I came back down to earth, eventually. And I was laying on my living room floor. Well, I wasn’t exactly laying on my living room floor. Karson was. I was splayed on top of him. I didn’t quite remember how exactly I’d gone from being underneath him to being on top of him, but that detail seemed rather insignificant at that juncture.
Our naked bodies were damp from exertion, his chest hard underneath me. All of his muscles were hard, sculpted. Yet somehow, they felt more comfortable than the ten-thousand-dollar bed I barely slept in every night.
“This is just sex,” I blurted, my voice scratchy, as if it hadn’t been used in days. As if I hadn’t been crying out in pleasure for the last … eternity. Or at least that’s what it felt like.
Karson didn’t respond.
His chest was rising and falling underneath me, so I knew he was alive. I’d never killed a man with sex before, but fuck if it felt like I’d died and entered Nirvana.
“I’m serious,” I said as if he’d argued with me. “You’re an alpha male. I’m obviously amazing at sex, you’re obviously amazing at sex, and that was…” I trailed off, my body tingling at the memory of what had happened between us. Something that was a lot more than just sex. “That was great,” I chirped lamely, trying to be casual yet getting the feeling that Karson saw right through me. “But I’m not into commitment. And as I mentioned earlier, you’re an alpha male. And you’ve had an intense, smoldering look in your eye. That gives me the idea that you’re attached to me.” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry and my stomach achingly empty. I felt like I’d just run a marathon. Or two. I’d run a marathon before, and I hadn’t been as exhausted and fucking starving as I was right then.
But I had a point to make. Reality had meant nothing from the moment Karson had entered the house, yet now it was rushing back in, so I needed to take control of the situation.
Karson still didn’t say anything, so I wrenched myself upward, coming up on my elbow so I could stare into his eyes. Just as I predicted, I found the intense, smoldering look in his eyes that made my stomach go all melty. I gritted my teeth against it and waited for him to argue. Certainly, he was going to. He was a man used to taking charge, that much was crystal clear, and he wasn’t going to let a woman make the rules.
“I’m going to make you some mac and cheese,” he informed me, voice rough.
I stared at him, wondering if he’d broken me somehow and I’d lost the ability to understand words.
He didn’t give me the chance to figure that out as he somehow knifed upward, taking both of us with him, planting me on unsteady legs.
My entire body felt heavy, achy, like I’d used every muscle in my body.
Karson stayed there in front of me for a few seconds, not speaking—I would’ve pushed the issue that this was just sex, but I was too busy trying to find my bearings and fighting to stop the room from spinning. Then, just as I was able to stand on my own again and sharpen my focus, Karson walked away.
Walked the fuck away.
Without a fucking word.
Naked.
To go and make mac and cheese, presumably.
Karson made kick-ass mac and cheese.
Quite possibly the best mac and cheese I’d ever had. Not that I’d had a whole bunch—I’d grown up in LA with a mother who ate the bare minimum to keep her alive and in a size two, and I came of age when the waif thin supermodels were plastered all over the media as shapes to emulate.