by Mariano, Sam
I want to mutter that the fundraiser wasn’t stupid, but that’s not the right thing to be defensive about right now. “I wasn’t implying you never do anything nice for me,” I tell him. “But you pick and choose. You give when it doesn’t cost you anything. I give when the cost is high. This is the first thing that’s ever seemed like it cost you anything, and you don’t want to talk to me about it.”
He doesn’t bother to disagree. “That’s right, I don’t. I respect your boundaries when you tell me I have to, so respect mine.”
“When, Carter? When have you really respected my boundaries because I said no? Certainly not in the classroom.”
“That doesn’t count. It was before.”
“Fine. Not when I told you I didn’t want to go to a party at your ex’s house and you vaguely threatened to rape my best friend if I didn’t show up to take her place. Not when I said ‘I don’t want to lose my virginity tonight’ and you said ‘fuck this’ and took it anyway. Definitely not when I asked you not to come inside me and you did, twice. I can come up with more examples if you need me to.”
Instead of looking remotely ashamed, Carter says, “I never threatened to rape Grace.”
“Yes, you did. After that, and what you did to me, and what you said you wanted to do to me, how am I supposed to just… not worry about this skeleton in your closet? What did you do to that girl? What happened to her? Why is she not around anymore? Why do you have Chloe and no concerns that her mom might resurface? Is she not able to resurface? We make jokes about where your moral line is, but to be honest, I have no idea. I don’t know if you have one. You’re a slippery slope, and I do look for the best in you, but I’m not going to close my eyes to reality in order to lie to myself.”
His voice drops, a hint of menace creeping in as he snaps, “Don’t pussyfoot around the question, Ellis. If you’re trying to ask me something, go ahead and fucking ask.”
Every cell in my body shrieks at me to drop it and extract myself from this situation as peacefully as I’m able, but the part of my brain that has become familiar with Carter is less afraid, despite his tone. “Did you hurt her?” I ask, my voice wobbling. I don’t know if I want the answer, but I need it. “You told me you had never done anything like that to someone before, but you also told me Chloe was your sister, so… it’s not true that you’ve never lied to me, and if this is one of the things you’ve lied about, maybe that was, too.”
Now I’ve pissed him off. I can see it in the tenseness of his muscles, in the clenched jaw and flaring of his nostrils as he breathes. Judging by appearances, not throttling me is taking intense physical restraint on his part, and while I find it a little worrying, apparently not enough, because instead of running, I remain plastered against the wall and wait for him to answer my question.
“Did I hurt her?” he repeats calmly, slowly, like he’s savoring the anger that question stokes inside. He moves closer and plants his arms on the wall on either of me to frame me in. I stiffen, knowing he’s trying to intimidate me. To punish me for asking such an ugly question.
He closes the distance, leaning in and bending his head like he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he buries his face in the curve of my neck. I shiver at the sensation of his warm breath against the sensitive skin. My nerve endings come alive when he presses his lips there, but I push him away. He’s evading the question, and that’s terrifying.
“I need you to answer this one, Carter. I need the truth.”
Grabbing my wrists, he roughly pins them to the wall over my head. “Did I rape her?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
I refuse to flinch. “Did you?”
Disdain drips from his tone as he answers, “No.”
I want to feel relieved. Maybe I should feel relieved, but it’s hard to manufacture the sensation of relief when confronted with an angry Carter Mahoney. “Okay. I just had to ask. You know how scary it is to trust you, Carter. We’re still technically gettin’ to know each other, so… I mean, I had to ask.”
“Do you believe me?”
His tone is even, but it sets off alarm bells anyway. “Yes. Should I?”
He shrugs. “I’m telling the truth. Doesn’t necessarily mean you have to believe it.”
“Is she… alive?”
His lips curve up faintly. There’s a look in his eyes that makes me want to take the question back, but he doesn’t answer me. Not with words, anyway. He shrugs his shoulders slowly, a hard expression on his handsome face. His response could mean it’s none of my business and he’s not going to tell me, or it could indicate he doesn’t know if she’s alive and doesn’t care.
This is torture. Piecing out the truth like this, offering what’s affordable and withholding the rest. I want the whole truth, not just fragments of it. I want him to go all in on me, not stick with the safer bets. I want to know all of him, every dark corner; I don’t want to be relegated to the surface layer like everybody else.
Maybe he’s right, maybe I do want to be the special one, but only because that’s the only way I can really know him. You wouldn’t think it, seeing him surrounded by friends in the halls at school, but Carter Mahoney is a fortress and he keeps everyone locked out.
I want in.
I realize I’ve been escalating his resistance by battling him for the truth. I will never win openly fighting him like this. He won’t suddenly back down because I bitched about it enough—that’s not Carter. He doesn’t operate that way. Fighting him will only lessen my chances of getting what I want, and never getting the truth raises the chances I’m going to lose my damn mind trying to keep up with this asshole.
His hands are still on me. That’s important. As annoyed as he is with me, as agitated as I’m making him, he still wants to touch me.
I tug my wrists free of his hold and lean toward him, arching away from the wall just enough to reach the zipper on the back of my dress. Carter’s eyes narrow with suspicion as I drag it down and the fabric around me loosens. Without a word, I push the top of the dress down my arms, then pull on the fabric until it falls to the floor.
Carter’s gaze turns hot as he looks over my offering, at first lingering on my breasts, then drifting down my abdomen, finally settling between my thighs before returning to my face. There’s a glint of distrust in his dark eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.
Wordlessly I step forward, bringing my body against his. His heat sears me and my blood warms as I hold his gaze, refusing to waver. I loop one arm around his neck and rest the other over his strong shoulder, then I bend my head and kiss my way along his strong jaw. I kiss his neck the way he tried to kiss mine just a moment ago, but his body is rigid and unresponsive. That just makes me try harder. My arm over his shoulder drifts down to his waist and I pull him against me, subtly rubbing my breasts against his hard chest, then kissing my way along his jaw again.
In a violent burst, he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back. My heart pounds as he backs me up the few remaining inches toward the wall, then pushes my shoulder until I drop to my knees. It’s scary knowing he could hurt me if he wanted to, but not knowing if he will. I’m all twisted up, because it’s not fear I feel the strongest. Lust stirs inside me as I look up at him, a need, newly awakened, pulsating in my core.
Carter holds my gaze as he unbuttons and unzips his pants, daring me to look away. Daring me to run. I don’t know if I should. I don’t know if he wants me to. Does he want to chase me? Does he want to punish me, to take out his aggressions? My breath quickens at the thought, so rather than wait for him to shove his cock in my face, I break his gaze and try to crawl away.
He’s on me in an instant, his sharp reflexes and physical strength making it so easy to trap me. I’m caught beneath his body, tummy down, as he forces his hand between my legs and slides it inside my panties. I try to crawl away again, but he keeps me right where he wants me. My stomach twists up with desire and I groan as he pushes a finger inside me. I struggle by instinct, even though I’ll die of disappointm
ent if he takes that pressure off my clit.
“You like that?” he asks roughly, still holding me down. “I sure do.”
I’m breathing too heavily to respond, but I don’t know what he’d want me to say, anyway. I don’t care. All I care about is the pleasurable sensations coursing through my body as he touches me.
I never know what to expect when Carter opens his mouth, but right now as he fingers me, he yanks on my hair again and leans close to my ear, telling me in a low, gravely murmur. “I think about that day in the classroom all the time, you know?”
My heart rate jumps, but I don’t move. I don’t speak. I just wait to see where he’s going with this. A strangely timed apology, or a barbed taunt, intended to further punish me for pushing him tonight?
“You looked so fucking pretty, all outraged and helpless. You know what I never understood, though? You could’ve stopped it. All you had to do was lie to Jake, pretend you liked him for five minutes. He would’ve called me off and protected you, but you stood by your fucking principles and told the poor bastard the truth.”
I don’t know if he actually expects me to answer him while he’s doing this, but I swallow and offer one up anyway. “It would’ve only been a temporary fix. If I pretended to like him when I didn’t, then I would’ve had to deal with it later.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you wanted to play with me,” he offers.
Even though I do currently want to play with him, I damn sure didn’t then, so I shake my head. “That wasn’t it. You’ve obviously grown on me, but you’re an acquired taste.”
“You like me now though, don’t you, princess?” His finger circles my clit and I throw my head back against his shoulder, a faint noise of pleasure escaping my throat. “You like when I hold you down and play with you, when I treat you like my little whore. You’re good at that role, aren’t you?”
His words combined with his fingers toying with me send a naughty spike of pleasure soaring through me, but I remain on edge. I don’t know where he’s going with this. I don’t know if he’s in the mood to be nice or mean, but my money is on mean.
His touch is rougher than I want it to be, but I don’t complain. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care in this moment, even if he will later. My body is still responsive; spikes of pleasure still hit me as he toys with me. Then the pleasure ratchets up and I lean back against him, feeling my body building toward orgasm.
Carter bites my neck, keeping the pressure on my clit. I gasp at the unexpected sting of pain, but I’m entirely focused on the pleasure I know is coming my way.
“You like that?” he demands.
“Yes.” My response is rushed, my breathing heavy.
The stimulation intensifies, my breaths come in short bursts. Then, just as I’m about to fall over the edge into an abyss of pleasure, Carter withdraws his finger from between my thighs.
“No,” I groan, hugging the hardwood floor.
Behind me, Carter pulls down my panties and smacks my ass. “Up.”
“You’re mean,” I inform him, wanting to glare at him, but too disappointed to move.
“I’m gonna get meaner if you don’t fucking listen,” he tells me, smacking my ass hard enough that I jump. Since my skin is stinging and another slap might follow further disobedience, I push myself up on my forearms and thrust my ass in the air.
“Better, master?” I ask, dryly.
His voice is warm and rich, and his satisfaction washes over me like liquefied pleasure as he runs his hand over the stinging skin of my ass, appeased. “It sure is. Beautiful.”
A warm flush crawls up my chest and neck, no doubt coloring my cheeks. “Thank you,” I murmur, a bit uncertainly.
There’s a rustling of stiff fabric as he shoves down his jeans and then I feel him move closer. He rubs the head of his cock against my entrance, then pushes it inside me. I can tell by the way it feels, the stretch of my skin, he’s going in bare again. I sigh, but don’t bother bitching about it. He’s going to do it either way, so what’s the point?
“Will you hate me if I get you pregnant?” he asks.
He’s not deep, just pushing the smooth tip inside me and pulling out. Just playing with me. Carter’s exploration of my boundaries is hard, because he forces me to be brutally honest—not just with him, but myself. He won’t let me have a comfort zone. I know he’ll interpret me telling him I won’t hate him as permission, but I also know if I start telling him too many things will make me hate him, the threat will lose all meaning and become ineffective. I can only tell him I’ll hate him for doing something if I really will. I can only say no if he’s really at my limit. With Carter, you can only tap out if you literally can’t take anymore. Anything before a hard limit is fair game.
“I won’t right now,” I tell him, carefully. “I probably will someday.”
He rubs his hand over my ass again. “Good answer.”
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. Leave it to Carter to test me when he’s about to have sex with me.
He pushes himself deeper and I have to flatten one hand against the floor to brace myself. This position on the floor is hard on my knees. I wish he would’ve moved us to the couch first. Wish he would’ve put a condom on, too. I have to figure out how to get things I want out of Carter. Arguing doesn’t work. Asking certainly hasn’t worked. I guess submission doesn’t entirely work either, because I more or less submitted and he is thrusting deep with no protection. I don’t know what else to try.
Carter grabs hold of my hair and pushes me down until my cheek is pressed against the floor. My stomach pitches as he holds me down even more roughly and thrusts his cock inside me. This is rougher, dirtier, even less comfortable, but a shudder of pleasure moves right through me as he pumps inside me, as he fills me up. He’s holding me down and using me. Punishing me. I should hate this. Why don’t I hate this?
“This pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it, princess?” Carter asks.
I swallow, trying to hold onto the floor to stay in one place as he fucks me.
His fist tightens in my hair and he thrusts so brutally a little yelp slips out of me. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I offer promptly.
“I can do whatever I want to it, can’t I?”
I try to get a better hold on the floor. This time I know he wants a response, and I know which one, too. “Anything you want.”
The challenge melts out of his voice and it’s warm again, so it washes over me like the reward it is when he says, “Mm, good girl.”
He’s trying to train me. That’s funny, since I’m trying to train him, too. Oh well. I guess it works out if we train each other. I certainly can’t claim his training isn’t working, because it is. But so is mine. Kinda. I may not be getting my way all the time, but I’m pretty sure I’m making more progress with him than anyone else ever has.
My belief is strengthened when, after I’ve taken a few more brutal pumps without complaint, Carter lets go of my hair and pulls out of my body. I wait, breathing heavily, to see what comes next. I stay in position because he hasn’t told me to move. Then I hear something that sounds suspiciously like a foil packet being torn open and my heart leaps. Is he…?
Carter’s hands settle on my hips and he nudges me. “On your back.”
I roll over onto my back so I’m looking up at him. My stomach rocks with a strange mix of feelings when I see the condom wrapper discarded on the ground beside us. I want to kiss him, so I do. I arch up, grab his face, and kiss him, the flavor of gratitude on my lips as they soften under his.
Beneath the gratitude, I feel victorious. Submission did work, he just had to prove his point first, show me he’d take what he wanted and see how I responded. Naturally, I responded the right way, so now he’ll respect my wishes.
Warmth spreads through me. I love his twisted ways. Carter may be difficult to maneuver sometimes, but he fascinates me.
Carter breaks the kiss and slides his hands down the outside of my thighs. Then he lifts my
legs and moves until he’s hovering over me with my bent legs resting on his shoulders. He leans down and brushes his lips across mine, then braces his weight on one arm while he reaches down with the other and guides his cock between my legs.
His condom-covered cock.
I can’t help smiling. I can’t help kissing him again. Then as I’m kissing him he shoves inside me and steals my breath. Steals my soul.
“Oh, Carter,” I murmur, struggling to adjust as he fills me in a way he never has before. “Oh, God.”
Pressing his forehead to mine in a show of tenderness, he moves inside me. As the breadth of his cock steadily rubs my walls, intense pleasure courses through my body. Again and again and again. I can’t stop moaning as he moves in and out of me, as the pleasure builds and builds.
It’s not just the pleasure that feels so incredible, but the intimacy between us. Having him so close fills me with affection while he uses his body to fill me with pleasure. Between all that, the submission of my position juxtaposed with the dominance of his, and the faint background feeling of finally getting my hands on a hard-won reward, my heart opens up like a flower, unafraid of exposing its delicacy to damage from such a potentially dangerous visitor.
When my body can’t take anymore, it vaults over the precipice, freefalling into pleasure. I cry out and Carter kisses me, catching the sounds of my pleasure against his lips. The pleasure goes on as he rubs my sensitive walls, extending the pleasure.
“Fuck, Zoey,” he murmurs, closing his eyes.
All the strength rushes out of my body. I slide a bit on the floor as Carter continues to pump into me, but I don’t have the energy to try to hold myself in place. Turns out I don’t have to; a moment later he groans, his muscles go taut, and he thrusts deep. I don’t feel him come this time because he’s wearing the condom, but once he’s spent, he collapses on top of me like before.
Thoroughly satisfied and still bursting with affection, I wrap my arms around Carter and hold him close. I love the feeling of his warm, muscular back beneath my fingers. When I get the energy back, I want him to roll over so I can kiss him everywhere, trail my lips over the ridges of his washboard abs, kiss my way down the V framing his pelvic area. Hell, I’ll take him in my mouth again and really show my gratitude for all that pleasure.
