Page 119 of The Gaybor War

"Maybe I’m enjoying myself."

"Carter—" My tone carries a dire warning.

Carter obeys wisely, sitting up on his knees. He rolls on the condom he got from my kit and grasps the base of his dick, lining it up with my hole. And just to be ornery, he pushes the tip past my tight rim, lighting me up with the stretch and burn, before pulling back out. He repeats this three more times until I lash out with a feral growl.

He laughs and fixes his grin on me before pushing fully inside. Then he covers me with his weight, seeking my willing mouth. He tastes of strawberries and silicone.

"God, you feel amazing." He pulls out and slowly slides back in with a groan. "Knew it’d be good like this."

Damn, he says the sweetest things. My knees fall open wider to cradle his body. His tongue and his dick are all I know, all I feel. Carter becomes the center of my universe, my sole reason for existing. Well, him and the orgasm I know he’s going to give me.

"Get up on your knees," I pant.

He sits up, grasps my bent knees for support, and thrusts into me hard enough to make me cry out.

"Yeah, like that."

Again and again, he plows into me, skin slapping, balls smacking, until we’re both grunting like rutting pigs.

The smell of sweat and sex fills my senses. I’m lost in a haze of desire.

"Harder. Fuck me hard."

Carter leverages my hips, slamming into me with a grunt. "Gonna… come… soon."

"Same. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop."

My head clouds with heat. Sparks fire in my belly. My thighs tremble. Carter shifts, and the angle hits me just right. My stomach twists and spasms as the high crests. It rolls through every muscle, every cell, until I cry out hoarsely.

"Carter!"

"Fuck, yes."

He thrusts once more, twice, and spills his load. I peel open my eyes to watch his face as he comes. Pinched tight, eyes squeezed shut, and mouth drawn into a thin white line. His breath shudders out of him as he comes apart against me. A quiet, wrecked sound slips from him before he collapses forward, weight settling warm and heavy against my chest.

For a second, neither of us moves. Just breathing. Just existing in the aftermath.

I stroke a damp lock of hair from his forehead and gaze down at his dopey smile. He looks nothing like the controlled, composed man who moved into my neighborhood and started rearranging my life.

Fuck me. This was supposed to just be hot pirate after-party sex. But as he exhales against my chest, something in me shifts in a way I can’t easily undo. Something fuller. Warmer. Like something slid into place I didn’t realize was missing.

I swallow, staring at the ceiling because looking at him feels too dangerous.

"Hey," I murmur.

His eyes open a fraction, glassy and dazed in a way that would be funny if it didn’t feel so intimate.

"Still with me?"

He hums faintly in agreement.

"Yeah," I whisper, mostly to myself. "That’s going to be a problem."

A small, tired laugh escapes him, muffled against my skin.

And I know—without either of us saying it out loud—that nothing about this is simple anymore.

Chapter 30