Fearsome

by S. A. Wolfe

  “They are everything I know about marriage. They never ask if I’m dating anyone because they don’t care. They taught me that the most important parts of my life are career, salary and ambition.”

  “They are just trying to protect you. All good parents do that.”

  “I know how to work hard and I know how to manage bank accounts. I don’t know how to be a couple. You deserve someone who is as caring as you are with Dylan and your friends. You deserve someone who appreciates family the way you do.”

  He moves back to look at me. “Don’t patronize me and most definitely do not preach some movie script to me. I can take care of myself. Do you judge me by my parents?”

  “What? I didn’t know your parents.” I have a difficult time hearing him over the music and can’t believe we’re having this discussion on the dance floor.

  He pulls me back in and speaks into my ear. “You know my mother died young and my father was a suicidal drunk. They left no will, no provisions for my brother and me. Do you think I would take the same path as them?”

  “No,” I answer. My skin tingles as his lips brush against my cheek. “I think you have faced extreme adversity and used it to make you stronger.”

  “So, you don’t judge me by what my parents did or did not do, but you believe I should judge you by your parents. Who I don’t even know. Christ. For someone who likes logic, you make the most illogical argument about us.”

  “I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I say softly with my eyes focused on his chest peeking through his open collar.

  “I don’t, either. Shut up and dance.” He’s angry and disappointed that I would have to mention sparing anyone the hurt of loss. If anyone knows how to protect people, it’s Carson.

  The deejay announces the last song of the evening and starts spinning a sexy dance club song. Dylan comes jumping onto the dance floor with three young women following him. Their arms and legs are flailing everywhere. I decide this would be a good time to exit the dance area since Carson isn’t a showy dancer like Dylan.

  “Whoa. Where do you think you’re going?” He grabs my arm. “We’re still dancing, Babycakes.”

  That name infuriates me and he loves it. I put my hands back up for a traditional waltz hold, but Carson rests his hands on my hips and slams my body right against his as he starts dancing to the fast pop tune. One of his legs is between mine as he does some kind of sexy rumba move, swaying and grinding.

  “You have got to be kidding,” I say loudly. I can’t believe he’s comfortable dancing so provocatively.

  “Oh, I’m not kidding. Put your hands on my shoulders.”

  While everyone else is jumping, hopping and twirling, Carson makes us look like the hot salsa duo. I would never do this in public with any other man, but my surprise and anger dissipates as I begin enjoying our erotic dance. His muscles are thick and hard across his broad shoulders. His eyes bore into me as our bodies crush together and the heat between us soars. It’s over too soon; the song ends and I push away to get some air. Carson is behind me and puts his hands back on my waist.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he whispers into my ear. “You’re staying here with me tonight.”

  I whip around so fast my elbow slams into his ribs. He winces.

  “I’m leaving with the girls. Jeremy is our driver.”

  “Nope.”

  Carson heads to the door where people are milling around, putting on coats and saying goodbye. He says something to Imogene who looks across the room at me. I’m still standing there, not really sure if I should insist on leaving or follow my body’s lead, which is begging to stay with Carson.

  “Dear,” Lois says. She raises an eyebrow with a hint of a smile, but she says nothing else before handing me my evening bag and leaving with the other guests.

  Thirty-Five

  I peer out the window into the blackness of the valley below and when I turn back to the large, quiet house, the catering staff has already wrapped leftover food and stored it in Carson’s big, empty refrigerator along with swiftly collecting all the dishes and glassware. When the house is cleared of all people, the lights dimmed or shut off, Carson comes back in through the front door and locks it. We look at one another from across the room and I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified.

  He strides toward me and takes my hand to pull me towards the stairs.

  “We’re doing it your way,” he says.

  “What’s my way?”

  “No talking, no strings.”

  He walks me briskly upstairs to his bedroom and closes the door. Before I can say anything, his mouth is on mine, hot and frantic. My whole body responds immediately. I run my fingers through his hair and then his tongue and lips are on my neck. A rush of cool air envelopes my body as I realize Carson has pushed my dress straps off my shoulders and it falls to the floor.

  “Keep the shoes on,” he demands, still kissing me and pulling my panties down at the same time.

  I am fully naked and standing in my heels while he is fully dressed and ravaging me with his mouth. I reach for the bulge in his pants and he groans, however, when I start to undo his zipper, he pushes my hand away.

  “No,” he says. “Here.” He walks me to the window, a glass wall that overlooks the white valley, and plants my hands above my head, flat against the glass. He stands behind me and uses his leg to spread mine wider. I feel extremely vulnerable, yet excited. The sound of Carson unzipping his pants sends a flame of arousal through my body. I am getting wetter with anticipation.

  His calloused hands do not caress me gently this time, they maul my breasts, kneading and pinching my nipples as his cock rubs against my butt cheeks. He keeps one hand on my breast and uses the other to rub my clit. He is rough as he pushes two fingers in me and rubs my folds with my own fluids.

  “Carson, now.” I am practically panting with desire.

  “I don’t want to use a condom this time. I want to feel you without it. Is that okay?” he asks gruffly.

  “Yes. It’s a safe time,” I blurt it out, wanting him to know that I recently started the pill to be with him, but it sounds like a pretty lame statement, so I keep quiet.

  From behind he pushes his cock into me, forcing me up against the window. I gasp, but then groan with pleasure as he grunts and pumps relentlessly into me. The more I moan, the faster he thrusts. His hand is still circling my wet center and I think I’m about to come when Carson pulls out. He swings me over to the bed, no easy move for me in heels. I’m on my back facing Carson as he strips his clothes off. It’s a highly erotic sight and I scramble backwards to the middle of the bed to watch him.

  Naked, Carson looks even taller, wider and more intimidating. Seeing his face darken with arousal, I gasp at the size of his cock. He puts one knee on the bed, grabs my ankles and yanks me back to where he’s standing by the side of the bed. He shoves two pillows under my lower back and rests my left thigh over his hip so I’m exposed and titled up to him. The heels fall off when he puts his hand under my butt cheek and props my right thigh up with his other hand. I watch every muscle and ripple in his torso as he bends over and kisses my belly. He works his way down between my legs and pushes his tongue into me.

  “Oh God,” I whisper.

  His tongue circles, licks and sucks until I can’t stop moaning.

  “That feels so good, don’t stop… don’t stop.”

  He stops and chuckles cruelly, obviously wanting to punish me. He stands up again and leans in with his cock circling me until he is dripping in my wetness. “Shit,” he whispers and shudders. He can’t wait any longer either, and plunges into me full hilt.

  I gasp and a low groan escapes Carson’s steely demeanor. He doesn’t take his eyes off mine. I have the urge to close my eyes and let my head fall back, but I use all my resolve to keep my gaze locked on him. He slams into me with uncontrollable desperation. I arch up and run my hands down my sides and back up across my breasts and peaked nipples.

  “Keep doing that,
” he says hoarsely, staring at my hands fondling my own breasts.

  I slowly run my palms lightly over my nipples and watch Carson’s intense gaze as though we’re dueling for who can have the most pleasure without showing any affection. I want to stroke his face and remove the lock of his hair that has fallen forward, but he keeps enough distance between us so my hands can’t reach him. His frantic thrusts slow down and he grinds in a full circle. It’s an assault on my sensitive spot and I smile as a spiraling orgasm begins to build in me.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Carson groans as his own pleasure becomes too powerful. He pulls out of me and flips me over. “On your knees,” he rasps.

  Feeling bereft without him in me, I scramble to get in position, on my knees and elbows. He enters me from behind again and lunges forward covering my body. I’ve temporarily lost the climax that was building in me and I think that was intentional on Carson’s part. Somehow, in his way, this angry sex is his way of getting back at me for being distant and noncommittal. He’s putting on a good show, but I’m not fooled.

  His emotions are running him ragged on the inside. If he only wanted to fuck me senseless and get pleasure out of it for himself, we’d already be done. This is going on and on because he can’t touch me without an emotional investment. I consider this and how much I like having him care about me. He thinks this rougher version of sex will frighten me or turn me off, but truthfully, in Carson’s mind, he is making love to me, not screwing me. He’s a terrible actor if he thinks I’m falling for his tough guy act.

  His fingers rub my wet folds as he pummels into me with quick grunts. Having this animalistic effect on him arouses me more. I clench my inner muscles, making him groan louder.

  “God, Jessica,” he hisses. We both come.

  Our undulation continues as his climax subsides. Another wave rolls through me and I yelp as a lingering flame triggers my nerves endings again. Carson holds onto me tightly before pulling me down with him still inside of me as he lies down on his side. My back is to his chest and he is breathing heavily against my neck. He keeps his arms wrapped around me. With a slight movement, he pulls out of me. I can feel when his tense body relaxes completely and his weight sinks further against me.

  “Seventy million,” I whisper to myself.

  Carson laughs softly into my hair.

  We stay like that until we fall asleep.

  Thirty-Six

  The sun is pouring through the bedroom when I wake. I am wrapped under Carson’s thick arm, nestled against his naked body. Sometime in the night he must have put a pillow under my head and covered me with a blanket. I turn in his arms to look at him, hoping I don’t disturb his sleep.

  He is a gorgeous specimen of male virility. His thick, glossy, chestnut hair swept back from his face, his muscular torso that narrows down into a trim waist with abs that I trace with my finger. One of his giant, corded legs swings and pins me in place. His steel blue eyes open lazily, taking me in with a mischievous twinkle and a curve to his mouth. I feel his cock get hard between us. As it presses against my stomach, I know that, if I don’t get out of here now, I’m going to be too turned on to leave.

  “Huh, you didn’t get away.” His deep voice is sultry and relaxed.

  “I shouldn’t have slept here. I have to—”

  “Get going,” he cuts me off. “Yeah, that’s the same line you always use. Not going to work this time.”

  “Carson, it’s late, we overslept.” I peer over his shoulder at the nightstand clock. “It’s ten. I thought you like to work on Sunday mornings and I have plenty of work I need to get back to.”

  “Not today.” He runs his finger along my cheekbones and jaw; the same thing I was aching to do to him before he woke up.

  I wriggle my arms free and place my hands on his rock hard chest. “Can I take a quick shower and borrow some sweats from you so I don’t have to do the walk of shame home in my dress?” I ask, remembering that Lauren left my sneakers from her emergency bag by the door.

  Carson stares dreamily at me with a smirk. “We’ll take a long shower and then think about food. I’m starving.”

  I’m pretty sure he’s starving for sex the way he’s devouring me with his smoldering eyes and my body is gleefully rejoicing as it responds with a growing heat and need to have him inside of me again. I barely recognize myself when I’m with him.

  “Bad idea,” I say as my nipples bud and a surge of wetness ripples between my legs.

  His fingers begin playing with my hair, stroking my head. “You’re not going anywhere, Jess. I’m hard and your hands are all over me. You can’t touch me like that and think you’re walking away.”

  I can’t say anything when my hands are betraying me. Carson rolls me onto my back with him on top of me. My breath catches with unabated desire as his weight presses me into the bed. My hands immediately begin roaming his back as I reach down to caress his firm ass.

  His mouth covers mine and his tongue is fervent at first before slowing down to a leisurely pace of swirling and probing my mouth and lips. I kiss him back with the same fervor and feel him reposition himself with his forearms, taking most of his weight so I can breathe. The kiss ends with a sweet sigh and the stormy Carson from last night is gone. He looks at me with a boyish grin that makes my heart swell.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says, looking down at me with a tenderness that he keeps hidden from everyone else. “I love this wild red hair and your big brown eyes floor me every time you look at me.”

  “Hmm,” I mumble as I run my hands through his hair. “You’re pretty gorgeous yourself but pinning me with your naked body is hardly a fair move. This will only lead to trouble. That’s why I should leave now.”

  “I told you, you’re not going anywhere. I’m hard and you can’t keep your hands off me, so this is happening,” he says before he kisses my neck. He runs his tongue along my collarbone and I let a moan coax him on.

  “I don’t know why you bother to put up with me,” I whisper and then regret saying it aloud.

  Carson runs his lips gently over mine. “Because I’m in love with you and I want you. Even when you’re being obnoxiously neurotic, I can’t stop thinking about you or wanting you.”

  Carson expertly rubs his fingers over my hungry parts and circles around the sweet spot until I’m soaking and writhing in his arms, greedily raking my fingers over any unexposed part of him. He has two fingers inside of me, probing in and out, rubbing my center, and I’m squirming with so much agonizing pleasure that the blanket falls down to the small curve in Caron’s lower back.

  I stroke his cock and I like to think it becomes longer and thicker in my grasp. He watches as I rub his tip against my wet cleft and his head swings up, throwing his dark hair back so he can look at me. He props himself higher up with his hands and as soon as I give him an inch of myself, he thrusts and grunts like an unleashed wild beast. I pull my knees up to his waist and take him in fully.

  In a rapid-fire succession, I am assaulted with the joy, desire and ecstasy of having Carson inside of me. It is more than a primal need and lust for him. I want him to need me, to see through every part of my body and mind.

  He sucks hard on my breasts until they ache and I let out a cry as he swivels his hips in a sexy motion that keeps striking the right spot. I moan and push my body against him, wanting more.

  “I want you to come,” Carson says between ragged breaths, “because I’m about to lose it. That’s what you do to me.”

  I pull his head down to me so I can kiss him. “Oh man, Jess,” he says gruffly between our lips.

  I’m about to climax when I see a bright flash to my side. My head turns in that instant and I see a young blond woman with a laundry basket entering the room, singing to herself. She is lost in her song before seeing us. Then she screams, covers her mouth and backs out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  “Shit!” Carson says as his cock pops out of me accidentally from the surprise intrusion.

&nbs
p; “Who was that?” I slam my palms against his chest.

  “Shh,” he says, trying to calm me. “It’s okay. That was Talia. I forgot she comes on Sunday mornings when I’m usually at the shop.

  With our orgasms on hold, our bodies are thrumming with sensory overload. “I’m so embarrassed. Get off me. I have to get dressed.”

  “No, you don’t.” Carson holds my face still. ”Stay here.”

  His cock is heavy as it bobs between us, Carson is flushed and barely holding it together.

  “Carson, she saw us. I have to get out of here.” I slap his chest again, but it’s like slapping a boulder that won’t budge.

  “Big deal. We’re in my bed, so it’s not like getting caught naked in a car. We’re going to finish what we started.” His voice is low with need.

  “Let me go take a shower.” I ’m thinking about a quick rinse and then getting away.

  “You want a shower?” he asks, gaining some composure despite his throbbing erection. “Good idea.”

  He picks me up off the bed quickly and carries me to the bathroom, to his large shower stall.

  “I meant me,” I say as he puts me against the cold tile wall and turns on the three showerheads that are positioned on two walls.

  He closes the glass door and lifts me up, propping me against a corner of the shower. He lifts one of my legs, positioning himself between them and then begins rubbing my wet clit again.

  “Carson,” I begin to protest, however, his fingers are in me again. “Oh God.”

  He smiles and kisses me. I feel dwarfed by his height and powerful, naked body. “Let yourself go,” he says, putting the tip of his cock in me. He hoists me up by bracing both of his arms under my knees and then he rams into me with a shudder. “Ah, fuck yeah.”

  I throw my arms around his neck as he grinds and thrust into me slowly while I salivate over his splendid form. My head falls back against the tile wall with the water spraying down on us. Carson has a heated expression of rapture as he studies my face and begins to thrust faster. Triumphant moans escape from him. The marvelous sensation of an impending explosion fills me and I groan as the orgasm shatters me into a million tiny pieces of extreme pleasure, sending my body into vibrating after-shocks.