Book IV of the UNC Series
Carter Blake has a bone-deep hatred for the world-and especially for the people in it. All he wants is to keep his head down, focus on school and basketball, and avoid the mess of human connection. After enduring years of...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Instead of feeling the heat of his lips on my own, I feel the tug of my hair before he presses his lips to the skin of my neck. I tilt my head back as water splashes on my forehead, droplets skating down my cheeks, cascading down our tangled bodies. A gasp of a moan escapes me when he licks my skin, a hot, wet trail gliding down before he envelops his lips around my clavicle.
I tighten my grip around his torso, digging my heels into the small of his back as I paw his matted wet hair. I want to press my lips to his, but he's firm on keeping them on my neck.
"Carter," I mewl when his teeth score across my chest to the other side of my neck. He trails kisses along my jawline and to my ear, causing me to bend my head to breathe heavily against his shoulder.
He groans in response to his name on my lips, and mine tingle in anticipation. Kissing has always been foreplay for me, the push and pull of our lips, the tug and clashes of our tongues. It's been what excites me and gets me wet. But Carter won't deign to give me that, no matter how many times I grip his long, curly strands.
He focuses on my chest as he slowly makes his way down, flirting with the swells of my breasts that feel heavy and full in my padded bra. My chest rises in rapid succession, my heart pounding and beating swiftly behind my ribcage. My mind draws blank as his large hands roam across my hips.
Lust and carnal desire swirl in the pit of my stomach as a pulsating rush bolts down my spine. White blinding flashes behind my eyes as water continues to pelt over me. I'm no longer shivering because I'm cold; instead, I'm shuddering from the havoc his mouth wreaks on me.
Under the stream of water, his scent is tantalizing and intoxicating, filling the room through the fog of steam. I palm his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and flex, and I allow myself the opportunity to explore—after all, he's taking liberties to touch anything and everywhere he can.
I can feel the strength in his back as my hands trail over his shoulders and down his spine. His shoulder blades move and coil as he holds me up, supporting my weight in his hands. My palms caress his arms, the veins distending along his skin, yet he feels smooth and soft despite the firmness lurking beneath the surface.
His lips are potent and irresistible; he hasn't moved much past my swells or dipped into my bra to capture my nipple, but the thrill of them on me is enough to satiate the throbbing in my core. My inner muscles clench as he makes out with my chest. A heated coil in the pit of my stomach heightens, and I instinctively draw him close as my pussy slides against his lower abdomen.
I'm left feeling nothing but unadulterated pleasure and desire for him, which is surprising. I would have never pegged Carter as a sexual being. Sure, he's attractive; anyone with eyes and half a brain would think so. But he's so reserved that I would have assumed he didn't do well with women and would have refused their company to remain in solitude. But I have to thank whoever taught him his ways because Carter hasn't done anything besides put his hands and lips on me, and I'm already close to coming.
