Finally Ours (Harborview #2)

33. Angela

33

ANGELA

I spend the night at Carter’s house. We sleep in his bed, which is so enormous I don’t even feel like I’m sharing it with him, and my insomnia doesn’t bother me at all. When I wake up, it’s to soft rays of sunlight streaming into the window and the smell of coffee. I turn over, and through bleary eyes see that Carter has placed a mug of coffee on the nightstand.

“Amazing,” I croak.

I roll over to look at him, and see that he’s got his laptop balanced on his knees and is staring at it intently.

“Working already?”

“Nope,” he says. “Now that you’re up, work is done.”

“Carter, if you have to work on your thesis, I understand. I can go back to mine.” I sit up and scoot closer to him, coffee in hand.

“Work can wait. I want to spend time with you,” he says, drawing me into his side. “You look cute in the morning, Angel.”

“Thanks,” I say, “but I’m pretty sure I desperately need a shower.” And to brush my teeth, but I don’t mention that.

“You can use mine,” he says.

I gulp down more coffee, and then hop into the shower in the ensuite. The shower is made of marble and has no fewer than four different shower heads, so you can be pummeled with water from all directions. Carter’s family is wealthy. This shower, and the rest of the enormous house, speaks to that. Hell, his bedroom isn’t even the primary bedroom and it’s enormous. He told me it’s the one he’s had since he was a teenager.

As I wash my face and try to keep my hair from getting wet, I think about how weird it must be for him. To be living in the house he grew up in without his parents. And it’s such a luxurious space, but not one he really owns. I wonder if he’s ever thought of moving out. But I guess it’s convenient, close to school, and free. I can’t imagine that getting a PhD pays a lot.

I exfoliate with the nice body scrub he has in the shower and then use a fresh razor from a pack in the medicine cabinet to shave my legs. You know, just in case I get lucky.

I wrap myself in a towel and head back into the bedroom.

“You surprised me with the body scrub, Steel. It’s not very mountain man of you.”

He looks up from his computer, and doesn’t respond for a moment, just stares at me with blazing eyes.

“Carter?”

“Come here,” he says, his voice hoarse. “You look beautiful.”

“In my towel?”

“Yes, in your towel. Now come here.”

I walk over to him, and stand in between his legs, looking down at him. His hair is still mussed from sleep, and he doesn’t have it pulled back into a bun like normal. His beard is out of control and probably needs to be shaved. And his eyes—wild, hot, full of lust and joy and love.

Our gazes clash, and I’m sucked into his, utterly transfixed. I reach out and place my hands on either side of his head, dragging my fingers through his soft hair, and then stroking it off of his forehead. My towel falls away from my body, and Carter’s hands come to my waist, pulling me in closer.

“Angela.” His voice cracks around my name.

“I know,” I tell him. “I feel it too.” I take his hand in mine and press it against my heart. “Feel how fast it’s beating?”

He nods.

“I love you,” I whisper to him, the soft look in his eyes making me brave enough to say it out loud.

“I love you too,” he tells me, and he closes his eyes as if to savor the moment.

I lean in to kiss him and he pulls me against him, dragging me across his lap and into bed. I immediately become aware of the fact that I am very naked, and he’s clad in nothing but his boxer briefs. His hands find my ass, squeezing each cheek, and I can’t help but roll my hips against him.

“Hungry for more already?” Carter asks in between kisses that he places on my neck.

“Please,” I gasp out, and he lands a light slap on my ass.

“Such a good girl, always saying please,” he says. “I think I could get off just on hearing you say that, Angela.” He groans as I roll my hips against his hardening cock once more. “Lift your hips for me.”

I do, and his hands find my pussy. He slips one finger, and then a second, inside of me and pumps in and out slowly.

“Fuck. You’re wet for me already,” he tells me. “Last night was incredible. I’ve been thinking about repeating it ever since.”

“It’s a wonder we got any sleep,” I say, as his fingers thrust into me rhythmically, and I grind myself into his hand.

“Tell me how you want me to fuck you,” he orders.

I blush, but pause and think for a moment. “I want you to fuck me from behind. And I want…I want to be able to watch.” I wave a free arm in the direction of the large full length mirror across from the bed. “Last night I really liked seeing you come. I want that again.” Seeing how much pleasure Carter gets from what we’re doing only makes my pleasure even sweeter, I’m finding. Like it’s part of the praise he gives me or something. I like knowing that he’s satisfied.

Carter flips me over, and positions me on my knees at the end of the bed, angling us so that we both have a perfect view of everything in the mirror.

“I’ve never done this,” he admits. “I’ve always wanted to, but…”

“Me too,” I tell him. And that’s another thing I like about sex with Carter: knowing that he’s willing to explore the unknown with me, and that neither one of us has seen or done it all.

Carter’s cock nudges at my entrance, and I spread my legs wider, giving him full access. He thrusts just the tip of his thick cock inside me, teasing me with it, pulling it out and then thrusting back in another inch.

“Fuck,” I hiss. “Carter, please.” I’ve been aching to have him inside me again since last night, and I’m willing to beg for it as much as he wants me to.

“Your pussy is so sweet, Angel,” he tells me. “It feels like heaven.” And with that, he thrusts all the way in, filling me completely.

“Look at you,” he says, gripping my pony tail and tilting my head up so that I’m looking at us in the mirror. “Look how fucking perfect you are.”

In the mirror, I see Carter’s hips pressed against my ass, his hand gripping my hair, and a wild look on my face that I hardly recognize. He starts to thrust into me, slow and deep, and I watch as he fucks me, the view ratcheting my pleasure up even higher as I take in the look of pure ecstasy on his face.

“I want you to watch me claim this pussy, I want you to see what you do to me. Do you like seeing this?”

“Yes,” I manage to say. “I love watching you fuck me.”

“Good,” he says, his voice rough with desire.

He thrusts into me again, his cock hitting that spot inside me that makes me see stars.

“Carter, that’s so good,” I moan. “Just like that.”

“Anything for my perfect girl,” he says, repeating the same motion again.

He pounds into me in abandon and I don’t take my eyes off the mirror for the entire time, watching as he thrusts into me over and over again, his cock disappearing into my pussy with each jerk of his hips. I start to feel the orgasm consume me, and I cry out. Carter does too, and I watch as his expression shifts as he starts to come, and he lets out a grunt, grinding into me even deeper and harder as he does.

He pulls out and breathing heavily, I roll over onto my back.

“Oh my god.”

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, and lays in between my thighs. “Every time my cock is inside you Angel, you’re gonna come at least three times.”

“Or what?” I ask.

“Or I’m not a man worthy of your time. Now spread your legs like a good girl.” I do as he says immediately, and Carter strokes his fingers through my folds, and then pumps them inside of me. He spreads his release and my wetness around, and then flicks his thumb over my clit, while his other hand pumps in and out of me. “I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers while you’re covered in my cum, Angel. And you’re gonna beg me for an orgasm like the good girl you are, okay?”

“Yes, please,” I say, my thighs already shaking. I find that I really, really like that Carter is fingering me even after he’s finished inside of me. It’s something no other man has done to me. And aside from being insanely hot, it’s nice that sex with him never begins and ends with his pleasure. Just because he came doesn’t mean we’re done.

Carter strokes me lightly, barely touching me, his fingers fluttering over my clit, and then through my folds, as his cum continues to leak out of me. He swipes some of it off my thigh, and fucks it back into me, the action making me moan and cry out.

“You’re such a sexy fucking mess, Angela,” he says, continuing his torturously slow pace, his fingers now moving in and out of me.

“Carter,” I gasp out.

“What, Angel?” His hands go still against me.

“I need to come so badly,” I say, a sob escaping my lips.

“And?”

“Please make me come. Please,” I whimper.

“You’re such a good girl. This pretty pussy took my cock so well earlier, of course I’m gonna let you come. Just hold on a bit longer.”

He rubs my clit again, this time with a bit more pressure, going steadily until he can tell that I’m right on the edge, that I’m seconds from tipping over it.

“You can come now,” he tells me.

And I do, my back bowing, the pleasure shattering through me, making me scream into the room. I thrust my hips against his hand, and tell him please over and over again, and he obliges, taking me from one peak of pleasure right into the next, his fingers working in and out of my pussy as his other hand strums my clit.

“You are so perfect, Angel, I could watch you come all day. Watching you come with my cum all over your pussy and down your thighs makes me hard all over again,” he tells me. The praise makes me moan, and even though I think I’m tapped out, I come again, shaking on the bed, whimpering and moaning, as he continues to rub me in gentle circles.

I lay there in stunned silence for a moment, feeling boneless, sated, and completely at ease.

“That was…Carter…I have no words,” I say. “It’s not like it wasn’t good between us all those years ago but damn. Was it that good?”

“I think we probably both learned a thing or two in college,” he says, laying down next to me and taking my hand in his. “Plus we’re better at communicating now. And more mature. At least I am.”

“I am, too.”

But it’s more than that, I think. It’s that the trust I have for Carter now is trust that he earned, through words and actions, and continuing to show up for me.

We spend the rest of the day in bed, either watching TV, cuddling, or having sex. He makes me dinner: roast chicken with lemon and herbs, homemade biscuits, and kale salad with fennel and goat cheese.

After, I head home laden with leftovers. I have work in the morning so can’t stay another night, and when we say goodbye my heart squeezes a bit thinking about how I won’t see him for a few days.

That night, I get the best damn sleep of my life.