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“Look, Allie…”

“Carson. You’re a good person and you don’t need to apologize, okay? Didn’t you feel me come hard? Jesus. You fucked the living daylights out of me. In a million years, I couldn't have asked for it to be that good. I didn’t even know sex like that was possible. You’ve opened my eyes.”

“I have?”

She nods and takes my hand. “Come lie with me.”

I don’t deserve her acceptance or affection, but I can’t resist it. When I rest my head next to hers on the pillow, she does what I’d fantasized about and runs her fingernails across my scalp.

Closing my eyes is dangerous. Answering her questions about my work and my family, my hopes and dreams is dangerous, too. I tell her so much under her soft caress, that by the time there’s a knock at the door encouraging us to go down for dinner, I feel like she’s peeled up my corners to discover the secrets beneath.

Stupid.

I’m not supposed to tell anyone anything about my family. Family is private. Allie’s a journalist. Everything I’ve revealed could be used against me. A shiver of fear raises the hair on my arms, but before we leave the sanctuary of her bed, she presses a soft kiss onto my forehead.

“You’re a good man, Carson,” she says, and I so want to believe her.

I really do.

20

ALLIE

First, Carson displayed his power and strength. He used my body with a ferocity that I didn’t expect, but I responded to nonetheless. Then he gave me an insight into why he apologized a million times for giving me the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had. It was like he tore it out of me, leaving me breathless and ruined.

Then he opened his heart.

I don’t think he wanted to.

But after we shared such an intense experience, it was like he felt he owed me a glimpse into what’s inside him and what makes him the way he is.

And after we talked, I became sure of one thing. If I ever come face to face with his father, there will be a murder.

How can a man be so destructive to his own child? It makes me sick to even think about it.

Sadder still is the long-term impact it’s had on Carson’s confidence. When he told me he was thinking about giving up tattooing, I couldn’t hold in my disagreement.

“You can’t give up your dream,” I blurted. “You’re so talented.”

“There are a lot of other artists more talented than me.” The defeat in his voice broke my heart.

“There’s no one out there exactly like you,” I told him. “You bring your own take…your own flavor to everything you do. You have to see the value in that because if you don’t believe in yourself, then no one else will be confident in your abilities.”

He nodded, but I don’t feel like I really reached him.

Maybe it’s because my confidence in him didn’t ring true. Maybe he can sense my own fears about my abilities that keep me chained to a job that isn’t what I really want. Maybe we’re more similar than I’d ever want him to know.

Carson fucked me in the most controlling and clinical way, but somehow, I feel connected to him as much as I would be if he’d been tender. Maybe more so.

He left the room first to change before dinner.

And I stayed to take another shower.

For a man who fucks in such a hard and savage way, he was so affectionate and considerate after.

I touch between my legs, finding the sensation there strange. I’m not sore as such. It’s like Stefan and Carson have left a presence behind them. My body has a level of awareness that it didn’t have before.

I rest my hand over my heart because there’s a difference there, too. I know that sex isn’t just a physical act. Even if there’s no relationship, it brings with it a kind of emotional connection. At least, it seems that way.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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