Wanted By You

by Steph Nuss

  "Holy shit," Carter said, smiling.

  "I know. That was … that was amazing," I said hoarsely, running my fingers over the muscles of his back. "We should've done that a long time ago."

  He lifted his head and searched my face, his rich, chocolate eyes soft and sated, just like mine. "We'll make up for lost time. I promise." He slipped out of me slowly and brushed a hand over my flushed cheek. "You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

  "Do I look hurt?" I asked, laughing lightly, smiling even wider at his adorable concern for my lady bits. "I am the exact opposite of hurt." I sucked his lip into my mouth and felt the heat starting to stir all over again, just from kissing him.

  He laughed against my lips and his hands tightened their grip on my thighs as he backed away from the door. I rolled my shoulders and stretched the muscles of my back, twisting from side to side. Doors were not made for sex, not even the five-minute, necessary-roughness kind. I kicked off my heels and pushed his shirt off his shoulders.

  "You need to be naked. I've waited nine years to see you completely naked."

  He kicked off his pants, but pulled his boxers back up with one arm still holding me in his arms. Seriously, what kind of vitamins does he take?

  "You're an English professor. How do you not know the definition of naked?" I teased, playing with the tangled strands of his hair and inhaling a strong whiff of his manly scent again.

  Sweet baby Jesus, he smells even better after sex.

  He smacked my ass and laughed again. "I'll get naked once you tell me where the hell your bed is."

  "Ooh," I purred, tightening my legs around his waist and loving the idea of him naked and in my bed. I'd forgotten he had never been in my apartment before, too busy admiring his strength and how good he smelled. He held me in his arms like I was weightless. Like gravity had no effect on me, and if he let go, I'd float around like an astronaut in space. "Last room at the end of the hall. The one with the light on."

  He carried me into my room and set my feet on the ground. His hands found my neck and drew me in for another extraordinary kiss. It started slow and sweet before turning feverish. He sucked on my bottom lip and stroked his incredible tongue over mine. His hands skimmed down the length of my body, making me feel like a prized possession. He found the hem of my dress and twisted it.

  "I wanted to take this off the minute you walked into the bar tonight."

  I lifted my arms and he quickly slipped the material up and over my head like he was unwrapping a Christmas gift, eager and excited to see the whole package. He threw my dress to the floor and his enthusiasm ran over every inch of my creamy skin. As he admired, I reached around to unclasp my bra, but he stopped me, lowering my arms to my sides.

  "Let me," he said, his voice so soft and intense it was completely undeniable.

  The amount of passion he poured into getting me naked was almost more moving than the mind-blowing sex we’d just had. I'd never had a guy admire me like that before, rapidly removing my clothes, but gradually memorizing every inch of my bare body. It made me feel special, like a rare, precious gem he couldn't wait to get his hands on.

  His hands breezed around my torso, raising goose bumps on my skin, and he unclasped my bra without difficulty. The straps fell from my shoulders and he pulled it off, tossing it to the floor next to my dress. He cradled my waist and the warmth of his eyes made my temperature rise—the way they sizzled across my skin like laser beams, encouraging the ache between my legs and making me blush.

  "Perfect," he said, gliding his hands up the smooth, thin curvature of my sides. "You are absolutely perfect."

  I exhaled the breath I'd been holding and smiled up at him. His precious words and his magnificent body turned me into mush. I wanted to lie down on my bed and use him as a blanket. But first, I wanted to open my gift: I wanted him naked. My fingers ran through the lines of the sexy V carved just below his obliques, and I saw the tent in his boxers grow.

  He cupped my breasts and caressed my taut, pink nipples, and I arched into him, growing needier with each miraculous flick of his thumbs. I slipped my hands into his boxers and pushed them down over his ass; he stepped out of them, his body flush against mine as his hands fell to my waist.

  I felt every thick, sculpted inch of him, running my hands over the bulk of his arms and chest, back and around to grip his beautiful, firm ass. There wasn't an ounce of fat under Carter's naturally sun-kissed skin, just carved, thick, carnal beauty sheathing every bit of his muscular frame.

  I kissed his neck, tasting the salt of sweat and sucking a trail of kisses up to his ear. I wrapped a hand around his neck and nibbled at his earlobe while my other hand started stroking his impressive length, and the deep, rugged sound of a groan crawled up from his throat.

  "Make love to me," I said against his neck, my voice soft and hoarse. Never in my life had I asked a guy to make love to me. In the past, sex was just sex, a way to scratch an itch, but with him, sex felt like so much more. Emotions swirled around us and it felt like what I imagined love to feel like: heavy, and full of affection and warm passion that washed over me with every move he made. I couldn't imagine sharing a moment like this with anyone else.

  His hands ran over the curve of my ass and he lifted me onto my bed with ease. I moved up toward the pillows, stretched out over the feather-soft fabric of my duvet, and waited for him. He stood at the foot of the bed, staring at me, eyes hot, pupils dilated, studying every inch of my figure, desire pouring off him and filling me with need.

  The mattress dipped, and he spread my legs and began his slow ascent up the bed, kissing various parts of my body as he came. I held eye contact and tried not to squirm under his tender voice vibrating against my skin.

  "I will never get over the way you glow," he said, running his lips up my calf, his hands brushing up along my thighs. "Your tight little body is so beautiful, it's addicting. I'm addicted to you." He moved up my body, dragging his tongue over the soft, freckled skin of my belly. "My tongue's been dying to play connect the dots with your freckles for years." He smiled and I came undone when his tongue found the freckle on the underside of my left breast. I arched into him and latched onto his hair as he sucked my nipple into his brilliant mouth. He moved up to my throat, feathering light kisses up to my ear. "You took my breath away nine years ago when I saw you sitting in the hallway before class." He held himself up on his elbows and peered down at me, smiling. "I immediately became addicted to you and every beautiful thing about you, and I still am. I always will be."

  "Come here," I said, chest heavy, voice hoarse and needy. His words summed up the emotions we'd been holding back for years. We fell in love a long, long time ago, and no amount of time apart could change how we felt.

  I ran my fingers along his chiseled jaw and brought his lips down to mine, tasting the rich bite of mint on his breath. His tongue dove inside and found mine and we both grew eager again, deepening the kiss and moaning into each other. I bent my legs, slowly gliding them up along his sides, and I ran my hands down the curve of his spine to the rock solid ass they wanted to permanently attach themselves to, and tried pushing him inside of me again.

  "Wait," he breathed against my bruised lips. His fingers ran through my hair and worry swam in his eyes. "Are you on the pill?"

  "Yeah," I said, thinking back to our moment against the door. "Oh, we didn't use a condom the first …"

  "I know," he said, searching my eyes for a reaction. "I wasn't really thinking about it at the time, but I'm clean. I've always used a condom except … with you."

  I cradled his face in my hands and smiled. I liked being his exception. He'd been mine for years, in nearly all aspects of my life. "I've never had sex without a condom either, despite being on the pill. We're good."

  He smiled and lowered his chest to mine again as his hand slid up my leg. I angled my head to the side, and he started pressing soft, warm kisses against my neck, sucking and nibbling. The familiar scent of his fresh, minty shower gel mixed with th
e smell of sweat and sex, drifting between us, made my insides melt, and I inhaled another deep whiff of him. He was beyond exceptional. His smell alone rendered my IQ practically nonexistent.

  I wrapped my legs around his hips and urged him inside me with my feet. He braced himself on his elbows and kissed me hard as he slid inside, slow and easy this time, savoring every bit of the raw feel between us.

  "Holy shit," he groaned, rocking into me again. He closed his eyes for a moment and his muscles tensed above me. "You feel incredible."

  His lips skated along my skin as he intensified his strides, and I lifted my hips, meeting every one of his thrusts with my own. Each time he rocked into me, energized tingles rippled through me like stones cast into water, pulsating from my core all the way up to my head and down to my toes, hitting that extraordinary spot no other man had ever found before.

  "Ohmigawd," I breathed urgently, digging my nails into his shoulders.

  A growl escaped him as he powered through, expertly hitting the spot time and time again, sweat dripping from his skin onto mine. Feeling my desperate climax reaching out, I tried not to close my eyes, to hold onto his loving gaze while he took over every part of my body. But when I couldn't hold back any longer, I tightened around him, tipped my head back, and let go of a loud moan. I trembled as pleasure flew over and under, lifting me up into a high state of euphoria.

  Carter rocked into me a couple more times, then threw his head back with a loud grunt, and I felt the warm, sweet release of him inside me while the rest of my body relaxed underneath him, completely numbed.

  He slumped against me, resting his head next to mine on the pillow, and I caressed the smooth, taut muscles of his back with my nails. "I think that just … I think that just ruined me," he said in between labored breaths, running a hand along my damp hairline. He pressed a soft, tender kiss to my cheek and then rolled off of me. We slipped under the covers and I cuddled up next to him, tired and exhausted, feeling just as ruined as he did. I rested my chin on his chest and felt the beat of his heart playing a romantic duet with mine. A gentle smile tugged at his lips and he kissed me on the forehead and ran his hands through my auburn waves. "You are mine. God, it feels good to finally call you mine. You are all I've ever wanted. You're all I'll ever want."

  Tears prickled my eyes but I quickly blinked them back; the last thing I wanted to do was cry after making love. I looked into his calm brown eyes and felt my chest tighten with happiness as his words replayed in my head. He'd finally said the words I'd always wanted to hear from him. He wanted me. I was all he ever wanted.

  And I was his.

  I always would be.

  "I've always been yours," I said, pressing a delicate kiss against his smiling lips, "and that will never change. I will always want you."

  He relaxed into the pillow and began running his hands over my back, soothing himself into a deep, peaceful slumber. With my head on his chest, I laid awake for another half hour just listening to the serene hum of his even breaths and thinking about all the nights I spent lying alone in bed dreaming of him; all the times I imagined it was him giving me pleasure whenever I went solo or used Wilson—or even when I was with some other guy. All the times I thought I saw him or heard him in a crowd of people only to realize it wasn't him at all. Before drifting off, I looked up at him to admire all the calm features of his face, and silently thanked him for coming back and making every one of my dreams come true.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carter

  She woke me up about two hours ago, straddling me and kissing her way up to my lips before I slipped inside of her. I thought she might be too sore from the night before, but her enthusiasm never wavered. It was the best wakeup call I'd ever experienced. I'd had plenty of sex in my life, but nothing as meaningful as what I experienced with Elly. I felt every bit of her surrounding me as I moved in and out of her. I couldn't imagine anything feeling better than loving her with nothing between us. I knew years ago she was the one, but after last night and how she asked me to make love to her, her voice soft and full of confidence, her big brown eyes heated with want, a part of me wanted to fast forward through all this dating and start the rest of our lives together.

  I wanted her to be my wife. The mother of my children. The woman I grow old with.

  I wanted forever with her.

  I opened my eyes and found the other side of her bed empty. Part of me hoped she was in the shower so I could join, but I didn't hear any running water. I slipped out of bed, pulled my boxers on, and walked into the bathroom connected to her bedroom. Her master bath was lined with beige tile and had a huge, rectangular glass shower and a vanity with his and her sinks. The thought of living together had already crossed my mind numerous times, but right now it was as if the bathroom screamed, “move-in ready”! I shook the thought away, flushed, and then walked back into her bedroom, and that's when I heard a noise coming through the crack of her bedroom door and smelled the distinct smell of bacon.

  My body perked up like a dog's ears when a treat is waved in front of him. Sex. Bacon. A gorgeous woman. All together under one roof. Am I still asleep? Is Elly really cooking bacon? Elly doesn't cook … or, at least, she never used to cook.

  I ran a hand through my hair and followed the scent. Walking out of her room and down the hall, I found two more doors. One was to another bathroom and the other was a second bedroom she had done up into a guestroom. Everything here was in order, tucked in all nice and neat, unlike in her bedroom. As I passed the rooms and continued down the hall, I finally figured out what the noise was.

  It was her.

  She was singing along to the music playing. When I got to the end of the hall, I crept along the wall, hoping she didn't notice me, and saw her dancing in front of the stove, cooking and singing.

  She still had her same old happy dance. In college, she used to listen to the oldies whenever she was in a good mood. She'd dance around and sing all the lyrics to songs most of us hadn't even heard of. It was really cute back then, but right now, in her tank top and shorts, with her red hair tied up in a bun and her face free of any makeup, she looked absolutely gorgeous.

  I knew most of the songs she listened to by now. In the last five years, all I listened to on my way to and from work were her songs. I asked her if I could copy her oldies playlist onto my iPod a few days before graduation. It was my way of keeping a part of her with me while I was away, along with the photos I had of us, and the tattoo I got. They all gave me hope that one day she'd be mine.

  And now she finally was.

  I leaned against the wall, smiling, and continued watching her. She was singing about the best of her love as she flipped an omelet and pretended the spatula was her microphone. I tried my best to stifle my laughter. I loved everything that had changed about her, but this—watching her act so carefree and happy, just like she used to—made me fall in love with her all over again. My chest tightened just thinking about all the times I stood like this and watched her sing and dance when she thought no one was watching her. I always watched her, took in her different facial expressions, listened for her different tones of voice and laughs, just so I could learn more about her. After graduation, I was really surprised when I found a bunch of love songs on her playlist because during college she never mentioned any old boyfriends or had her sights set on finding one. She seemed perfectly happy alone, and that was one trait I always wished I could change.

  I wanted to make her happy.

  The song changed and she slid the finished omelet onto a plate. When did she learn how to cook? She practically lived off cereal and frozen dinners back in college unless Paige cooked or she came over and ate with us. Everything smelled really good and the amazing smell of bacon made my stomach growl. Looking at her surroundings, my smile widened as I took in all the breakfast foods lining the counter. She had cereal boxes out, and bagels, pop tarts, and a box of frozen waffles sat next to the toaster. She had apple juice and orange juice on the counter, and a
couple of containers of fruit open, popping a grape into her mouth from time to time. There were two plates, each holding an omelet, and another plate filled with bacon.

  My stomach growled louder just looking at all of it.

  She turned around and opened the fridge and that's when I snuck in behind her. But before I could surprise her, my stomach dropped into my ass when I saw the black and blue marks on her shoulder blades. My teeth clenched and my eyes widened as worry lumped in my throat. I did this to her. Last night … up against the door … I was too rough with her. "Elly?" I said, shakily, my grip on her hips soft and timid.

  "Jesus," she said, flinching. She turned to me and smiled. "Way to sneak up on me. I thought you were still asleep."

  I remained quiet and kept staring at her large bruises while she grabbed the ketchup and shut the door. She placed it on the counter next to everything else and turned the music down, and then I turned her around to face me.

  I cradled her face in my hands, completely disgusted with myself. "Have you seen your back? I can't believe I …" I rubbed my hands over my face and up into my hair, worried over how bad I actually hurt her. I reached for her hands and sighed. "I was too rough with you when we got home last night. I promise I will never hurt you again." I walked around her, too upset with myself to notice any reaction from her, and I lifted up her shirt. "Are there any other bruises anywhere? I feel like an asshole for doing this to you." I wrapped my arms around her waist and pressed a kiss into her hair. "I'm sorry, babe."

  She pushed out of my arms and turned around, smiling. "I told you last night that I wasn't hurt." She pointed to her knee and turned around to show me the bruises on her back again. "Carter, I bruise easy. I can't help it." She turned back around and moved flush against me. Her arms came around my neck and she kissed me hard on the lips. She smiled and continued, "I don't want you to be sorry. I don't want you to feel bad. Last night was the greatest night of my life—the best sex I've ever had—and I want so many more nights just like it."