Carter Reed(62)

I waited until he closed the door behind him. He gave me a glass of water and a plate of food. My stomach grumbled as I saw the sandwich on it, but I left it untouched. My stomach said otherwise, but I couldn’t eat. Thinking of Mallory as a sex slave had taken care of that.

“Emma?” He sat beside me.

“How will we know if everyone’s been taken care of?”

“It doesn’t matter. Franco is the one with the vendetta. When he’s dead, no one will be paid for your hit. You’ll be safe.”

“But not you.” The words wrung from me. He wasn’t free of them.

“Emma?”

“You won’t be safe. You’re still tied to them.”

He pulled me against his side and ran his hand up and down my arm. “You don’t have to worry about me. As long as I continue to do what I do, I’ll be fine.”

“And if you don’t? If you stop making money for them?” It was my worst nightmare happening in front of my eyes as I imagined what they’d do to him. An image of his body flashed in my mind. It was like Jeremy Dunvan’s body, slumped over with blood coming from him, except it had Carter’s blue eyes. It had Carter’s chiseled cheekbones, his sculpted body, but it was lifeless and cold. I shook my head. That couldn’t happen.

His hand fell away from my shoulders and slipped between us to find my hand. His fingers laced with mine. “That won’t happen. I’m not new to this, Emma. I’ve been working with the Mauricio family for years. My word holds weight with both families now. I will be fine.” Then he grinned. “But it feels nice to have someone worry about me. I’m the one people are scared of, not scared for.”

I looked up, torn on the inside. “They don’t know you like I do.” They don’t love you like I do.

His gaze fell to my lips and he whispered, “No, they don’t. No one knows me like you do.”

When his head moved closer, I closed my eyes and felt his lips touch mine. There was a soft insistence from him and I opened for him. As his tongue swept inside and took command over me, it wasn’t long before I was lifted over him.

I gasped as he lifted my shirt off, “Carter.”

His lips found mine again. The need for him rose, threatening to take control of me. I shuddered as his hand slid up my side. My skin burned in its wake, sizzling for more. As he continued to explore my body, all the sensations and love I felt for him took over.

I needed this. I needed him.

I was blind with hunger as he switched our positions. He laid me down, poised above me, and his continued to taste every inch of me. Along with my shirt went my bra. Then my pants were next. As his fingers slipped underneath the straps of my panties, he slid them down with his thumbs brushing against the insides of my thighs as he went.

I pulled him down to me and I wanted his shirt gone. When it was, when I felt the deliciousness of his skin under my hands, I tugged at his jeans. Carter reared back, long enough to kick them off and then he was back. He was between my legs, kissing me, touching me. He loved me with every touch and caress from him.

When he slid inside of me, I held still, helpless against how my body trembled for him. Then he started to move and I came alive in his arms. As the rhythm grew and his thrusts went deeper and deeper, I wrapped my legs around him. I joined with him, in every manner. My body was his. He could do as he pleased, and as I skimmed a hand down his back, he trembled underneath my touch. His body was mine as well.

We belonged to each other.

As I felt the edge nearing, I held onto him as he continued to move inside of me. His hand curved around my leg and lifted it higher. I opened even more and he went deeper from the different angle.

“Carter,” I whispered against his skin. My hand clung to him, holding onto him. I met him move for move. He thrust in, my hips went with him. We rode together.

His eyes were open, bearing into mine. I felt myself stripped open to him, my soul bared, as his hips upped the tempo. Then it was time. I felt him tensing at the same time my climax ripped through me. Waves of pleasure slammed into me and I rode out each of them. As I finished, he let himself go.

I skimmed a hand down his sweaty back, kissing his shoulder when he collapsed on top of me. “Carter,” I murmured.

He let out a long breath. His body shook as it came from deep within him. His hand trailed up my arm and he lifted himself up, tracing my lips as he looked down at me now.

We didn’t speak. I couldn’t. This man was mine. This very powerful being, sculpted to perfection with eyes that were of a wolf’s. He touched his lips to mine, a soft claiming as he whispered against them, “I love you so goddamn much, Emma.”

“I love you too.”

I was weak with too many strong feelings sweeping inside of me, too many and too powerful for me to name, but as I gazed up at him, I saw his strength. As I lay in his arms and as he turned for me once more during the night, our bodies moved together as one and I felt my own strength awaken inside of me. I had grown addicted to this beautiful man. He was mine.

I would always love this man.

I rose from the bed and pulled on a robe that hung from the bathroom door. When I went into the kitchen, I looked around and started the coffee pot. As it brewed behind me and I began to look for more food to start breakfast for everyone, I knew that I had changed. Maybe it was that I had almost been killed, that I had seen it with my own eyes, or maybe it was knowing what would’ve happened to Mallory if I hadn’t pulled that trigger. I wasn’t sure which it was, but I had been changed. The culmination had occurred inside of me. I wasn’t quaking anymore. I wasn’t whining about losing my freedom or the inability to join friends for drinks without being babysat.