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“Come back to bed, Angel,” Carter calls in a sleepy voice.
“I needed coffee,” I say by way of explanation. No need to tell him I got out of bed mostly due to fear. “I made you some tea.”
I bring it over to him, and as I set it down, he grabs me and tumbles me back into bed on top of him. He kicked the covers off in the night, so I’m straddling him, with just my underwear separating us.
And I can feel him underneath me, thick and hard, pressing up against my ass.
He grabs my face and drags me towards him, and kisses me. I melt into him, hypnotized by the press of his lips against me and the stroke of his tongue into my mouth. He jerks his hips upwards against me, grinding his cock against my pussy.
“Some day soon I’m going to fuck this perfect mouth, Angel,” he whispers roughly in my ear. “I remember how well you used to choke on my cock.”
“Carter,” I manage to say, and try to hide my burning face from him.
“Look at me Angela,” he says softly, though his voice is commanding.
I do, the tone of his voice sending sparks of pleasure through me. I might be afraid of loving Carter Steel, but I find I’m more than happy to do whatever he wants in bed.
He tugs my panties aside, and strokes his hand through my folds.
“Already soaked for me,” he says. “Was last night not enough? Do you need me to make you come again?”
“Yes please,” I say, and shudder as he eases two fingers inside of me.
“Look at me while I make you come, Angel,” he orders.
I meet his gaze, and what I find there shocks me. His eyes are brimming with care. Tenderness. Love, if I’m being honest.
“I’ll go gentle on you because I know your cunt is sore from last night,” he whispers, and starts to rub my clit lightly. “And I remember that you like it sweet and tender sometimes.”
I choke back a sob of pleasure and emotion. He remembers. Of course he remembers.
“Can I fuck your hand?” I ask, because I can hardly stop my hips from moving in time with his hand.
“Such a good girl, asking me for permission. Go ahead, Angel.”
I rock against him, and slowly but surely, he draws the orgasm from me, letting it build and build until I can hardly take it.
“Come for me,” he says, not because he’s arrogant, but because he can tell I’m close. Carter knows my body so damn well, even after all these years.
Pleasure washes through me in waves and waves, dragging me under and tossing me ashore, until I collapse on top of him. I lay there for a moment, and then roll over next to him, our bodies still pressed together.
“Okay, I did not intend for that to happen when I brought you a mug of tea,” I say honestly.
We both burst out laughing, shaking with it, the tremors from our bodies running together.
“It can’t be helped,” he says. “I see you, I want you. Simple as that. Look how hard you make me.”
“I could,” I start to say, unsure how to ask for this. “Fuck my mouth. Let me make you come.”
He groans, but shakes his head. “We don’t have time,” he says, pointing to the alarm clock that reads 9:15 a.m. We need to meet Archie in under an hour. But I can tell it’s something else, though I don’t push. Carter has always been a generous lover, and even when we were twenty, my pleasure always came first. It bothers me a bit, because I want to make him feel good, too, but he’s right—we need to get going.
25
CARTER
The journeyback to Harborview on Archie’s boat is crisp, clear, and calm. I’m standing at the prow of the boat, right next to Angela, and we’re both taking in the feeling of being out on the water. Every few minutes Angela gets her phone out to snap a few photos, muttering to herself about painting it when we get home. I hope she actually sticks to it, and that her job eases up and she has time for hobbies.
The journey takes us past clusters of small islands, mostly uninhabited, but we eventually make our way into the open sea, where it’s much easier to navigate. Archie will be able to take us right back to Harborview, since our town has a harbor of its own. In years past, it served as a spot for locals to dock their lobster boats or small sailboats. But recently, we’ve been seeing more and more large boats filled with tourists come in, and there’s talk of a yacht club and hotel opening on the other side of the harbor. I’m not sure planning permissions will go through—though if Hunter’s dad has anything to say of it, they will. He owns the most prominent building company on Mount Desert Island, and this business is exactly the type of thing he’d like to sink his teeth into.
