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“Is this okay?” I ask.
“It’s perfect,” he groans.
I’m kneeling between his thighs on his king-sized bed. At his sides, his hands grip the sheets, and his eyes are closed, as if he’s trying to hold himself back.
“You can touch me, you know,” I say.
This whole time, he’s been such a perfect gentleman: letting me set the pace, attending to my needs before his, making sure everything is good for me. But this is the third time we’re hooking up this week and I’ve decided I’ve had enough of gentlemanly Carter Steel. I want the controlling, asshole Carter who I know and love. Not that I’ll admit that to him.
His hands find my hair, and he grips my ponytail hard and then guides my mouth further onto his length.
“That okay, Ange?”
I merely moan around his shaft in response.
“You like having my cock in your mouth, don’t you?” His tone is all smug satisfaction, and I don’t need to see his face to know he’s smiling his best know-it-all smile.
I pull my mouth away. “About as much as you like having my mouth on your cock,” I say, grinning up at him.
Because while Carter might be a controlling know-it-all, we’re evenly matched, and always have been. If we tallied up the score for our many sparring matches over the years, I’m sure it would be tied. I like to think I’m less arrogant than he is, and that I outpace him when it comes to wits and my infamous poker face.
“I like having your pussy on my cock, too, Angel,” he says.
And before I can come up with an adequate response to that nickname, he’s hauling me up and positioning me astride him.
“You haven’t ridden me yet. I want to watch your tits bounce as you take my cock, and then I want you to come all over it.” His words surprise me—they’re much more confident and sure than those of the few guys I’ve hooked up with at school. But then again, Carter has always been different and together we’ve always had something special.
“Silly boy,” I say, leaning down and dragging a finger over his lips. “You’ll be coming first.”
“That a bet?”
“The winner buys the loser dinner,” I say, my heart pounding. While we’ve spent the last few days holed up in his room in Harborview having sex while his parents are away on vacation, we haven’t gone on a date yet. And we haven’t discussed what it will mean either. What we’re going to tell people.
“Deal,” he says.
And then he thrusts upwards and fills me completely, and all I can do is gasp.
“When I win,” he says, rolling his hips, “I’m getting surf and turf at Watchman’s Dock.”
I can’t think of a come back quickly enough, and he starts to stroke my clit with his thumb. I tip my head back and sit up straighter, the angle deep and delicious this way. Carter groans,and I start to move on him, knowing that this angle makes my curves look their best.
But as he continues to stroke me, I wonder if winning this bet is even worth it. Wouldn’t it be nice to just let Carter have this one? To luxuriate in the feel of his hands on me, rubbing me in a near perfect rhythm?
But I know that half the fun for Carter is the fight. And it is for me too, I’m finding.
I move faster, my tits bouncing just like he wanted, and I pinch my nipples, rolling them between my fingers. Carter can’t help himself, and he palms both of my breasts, kneading them as I continue to ride him.
“Fuck, Ange, you look so good like this,” he says, jerking his hips upwards and meeting mine.
“I’d look even better covered in your cum,” I say. The words are cruder than we’ve spoken to one another before, but I can tell he likes the honesty as he fucks me from below even harder.
“You would,” he admits. “But Angel, this isn’t about me. It’s always about you.” His touch on my clit is feather light now, and I let out a whine. He grabs my hips and stills me on top of him, and then moves so that his cock is no longer inside of me. “I want,” he starts, and then hesitates.
“What, Carter? Tell me.”
“It’s too much, and I’ve never done it with?—
“Me neither. Nothing like this with anyone else before.”
