III: The Lesson I’ll Never Forget

I slipped into the house, climbing the stairs until the dull roar of the party was nothing but a distant hum. I wanted to cry, but that felt too fragile, too honest.

I locked myself in the bathroom to splash cold water on my burning face. As I turned to leave, my heart stuttered.

A figure stood in the shadows of the room and I let out a ragged gasp, nearly dropping my bottle.

“You can’t be that surprised to see me in my girlfriend’s room,” Carter drawled, a dark, predatory grin spreading across his face.

He peeled himself off the bed stand, pacing toward the window. “Especially when it has such a stellar view of the pool.”

I steadied my trembling hands, walking toward him. “Savannah is your girlfriend. I think that point is well understood.”

“Savannah is my girlfriend in the same way Tyler is your boyfriend. Couples fight, Hal.”

“So you’re one of the spectators who saw that little scene. Great.” I collapsed onto the bed, letting out a sharp, frustrated breath.

“I’m sure everyone is wondering the same thing.”

“That I’m a loser?”

“If you’re referring to Tyler, then yes.” Carter stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with disdain. “He was a fool to turn you down. He has no respect for you.”

I let out a jagged, pained laugh, pushing myself up to face him. “You don’t have much respect for your girl either, Carter. You flirted with me in the kitchen, and don’t you dare tell me that hand on my breast was just ‘harmlessly adjusting my bikini.’” I turned away, pacing the room, my skin flushed. “All men are the same. When you have them, they don’t want you. When you can’t have them, they toy with you like it’s some sick game.”

Suddenly, he was right in front of me. The air between us turned electric, suffocating. I backed away until my spine hit the door, trying to put distance between us, but he moved in.

Carter pressed his body against mine.

Carter trapped me.

“Who says you can’t have me?” he whispered, his eyes dark, imposing.

I swallowed hard. Words failed me as my chest hammered against my ribs.

“I’ll answer for you, Hal.” Carter offered then pointed at me. “You. You stop yourself from taking what you want. You’re so careful, so delicate, and you’re scared to your very bones.”

“I’m not scared,” I hissed, my voice wavering. “I have a heart.”

“And you have needs, don’t you?” Carter growled. Before I could protest, his hand darted down, his palm pressing firmly against the wet, heated mound between my legs, his fingers circling the slick, hardened skin.

I bucked, a soft, involuntary moan escaping my throat.

I tried to push him away, but my body betrayed me. I was arching into his touch.

The thin fabric of my bikini was the only thing standing between his rough skin and my hunger.

“Does Tyler fulfill them?” Carter breathed against my ear, his hand grinding against my slit.

I was drowning, my head lolling back against the wood.

Why don’t I shift the fabric of my bikini myself?

Why don't I let him in?

“You haven’t answered me, love.” Carter pressed his head against the door beside mine, his intensity vibrating through my skull.

Without warning, he jammed two fingers into me, pushing the damp fabric of my bikini deep inside with his touch.

The sensation was jarring

Intoxicating.

My body flooded with heat. It soaked the lace until the moisture coated his knuckles.

Carter pulled his hand away even as the wet fabric clung to his fingers.

When he pried free, he brought his fingers to his mouth.

He licked his own skin, his eyes locking on mine. He let out a low, primal sound of approval.

“Tyler would never,” I whispered, tears spilling over despite my best efforts. “He’s sweet, but he’s terrified of anything real. No tongue when we're kissing, no recklessness. He says… he says mouths don’t go there.”

“And he’s the only one you’ve ever had,” Carter spoke softly, it wasn’t a question. “Shame,” he murmured.

Carter’s gaze fell to my thighs. “Consider this a gift.”

He sank to his knees and my mind swirled.

I knew exactly what he was doing, and instead of stopping him, I reached back, slowly and deliberately locking the door.

“One leg on my shoulder,” he commanded, his hands already guiding my knee upward.

When he pressed his face into me, inhaling my scent, a jolt of raw shame and desire tore through me.

Carter planted a soft, feathered touch of his lips against my clit. A slow kiss.

Then, his tongue descended, swirling, teasing, I sighed and allowed him to have me.

He drowned me in his heat.

My knees buckled. I gripped the door frame, my knuckles white, as my world narrowed down to the friction of his tongue against my most sensitive nerves.

It was nothing like I’d imagined; it was absolute surrender. I bit my lip to stop the screaming, but when his tongue slid deeper, seeking, stroking, I lost the battle.

I stopped holding back. I let my hips roll into his rhythm, my moans turning into ragged cries. He was an expert, every flick of his tongue was a masterclass in pleasure.

He sucked the very life out of me, lapping at my juices, his face buried deep in my warmth.

He didn't hold back. How could I?

“Yes… oh god, yes,” I whimpered, my hands tangling in his hair.

I tried pulling him closer, needing him to do more. Be faster.

Rougher.

He didn't slow down. He drove into me with his tongue and fingers. His rhythm was relentless.

Carter pounded me into the door until I was shaking and shattered.

I was a complete mess at his mercy.

“That’s it, good girl,” he growled, the vibration of his voice rippling through my very core. “I knew you were made for this. You were made for me.”

My internal muscles clenched, pulsing around his touch. I was teetering on a ridge.

My world exploded into white-hot stars.

My body arched.

And in a final, shuddering cry ripping from my throat. I tipped over the edge.

I unraveled completely in his arms.