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I moan, shutting my eyes as he starts to move in and out of me faster.
“I can’t hear you...”
“Yes...Yes.” I wrap my legs around him even tighter.
He presses me against the wall, lowering his mouth to bite my nipple, sucking it until I scream.
My legs are trembling and we’re both seconds away from letting go when I feel him grabbing my leg.
“What are you doing?” I manage, breathlessly.
“I’m about to cum...” He tries to move my leg from around his waist, but I tighten it around him.
“Go ahead.” I look into his eyes, giving him the green-light to cum inside of me. “I have it covered...”
He hesitates for a brief second. Then he drives inside of me one last time—kissing me roughly as we climax together.
I whisper his name as my body shakes all over, as he holds me tightly and whispers mine back.
I press my mouth against his chin and smile, wanting to say something, but no words come out.
When I finally stop shaking, he moves my legs from around him and sets me on the floor. Without saying a word, he grabs a towel and wipes between my legs.
He holds me underneath the falling water and takes his time, washing every inch of me. He must sense that I’m having trouble standing up on my own because he keeps one arm wrapped around my waist as he washes his own body.
Picking me up, he carries me into the bedroom.
“Hold on to the wall.” He waits for me to press my hands against it, and then he presses a towel against my skin. “Are you okay?”
I nod.
“Good.” He lays me on the bed facedown and I feel him climbing in bed next to me.
I expect him to pull me into his arms so we can cuddle, but he suddenly moves over me and kisses his way down my spine.
“We’re not done yet...” He spreads my legs and slightly lifts my ass up.
He slides into me inch by inch, grabbing the hair at the nape of my neck and pulling it back.
“You still want me to be gentle?” he asks.
“Please...” I nod, feeling the weight of his hand in my hair.
He pulls my hair again, until my head is tilted back as far as it can go, and then he begins to move.
“You’re so beautiful...” he whispers as his skin slaps against mine. “You have no idea...”
“Ahhhh...Carter...”
He lets go of my hair and grips me by my waist, telling me that I’m beautiful again. As he starts to establish a rhythm, a slow and easy one like I wanted, he groans.
“Emerald...”
My voice is locked in my throat. He’s sliding into me and hitting places that I’ve never felt before.
I bite my lip as one of his hands slips underneath me and cups my breast.
“Emerald,” he repeats and I feel another orgasm building inside of me.
“I...” I can’t last for too much longer.
“Let go...” He kisses the groove in my back and thrust into me again, forcing my insides to explode.
I collapse onto the sheets, with him still holding me—him still whispering my name.
We lie there for a while, him on top of me, until he sighs and eases out of me. Rolling over, he wraps his arms around me and stares into my eyes.
“Are you tired?”
I nod, noticing that his dick is still hard when he pulls me closer.
“I need to ask you something,” he says. “What’s your end game?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sure you don’t plan to work at The Phoenix forever. So, what’s your end game?”
“Promise not to laugh?”
“Promise.”
“Okay...” I hesitate because I’ve never told anyone my dreams before. Then again, no one has ever asked. “Every morning when I wake up, I force myself to write a couple hundred words for a new book. I’ve been doing that for years—stopping and starting book after book because I would send the first few chapters off and receive rejections in return. But, I think that the book I’m writing right now is the book, you know? I think it’s something special...I’ve already started to send off query letters to agencies in New York and at the end of the summer, I’m going to finalize my plans to move there and work for a publishing house.
“You’re going to leave me here in Alabama?”
“I’ll invite you up to visit.” I smile. “I want to be a writer more than anything. It’s the only thing I’m good at, minus stripping.”
“You have two years left of college to complete right?”
“Technically...” I sigh. “I’d probably have to take two summer terms to make up for all the classes I failed.”
“Why don’t you want to go back?”
“I’ll never go back to NYU.” Saying that college’s name aloud still hurts. “And when I get to New York, I’ll be avoiding that campus and anything within a ten mile radius.”
