Ride Steady (Chaos #3)(85)

Now I wasn’t sure. I’d conked him on the jaw, scratched him too hard, nearly sucked his tongue down my throat, and I had a baby belly (not to mention a baby behind which, fortunately in my current position, he couldn’t see).

His hand kept going, relentlessly shoving between my arms that were surrounding my stomach to hide it from him.

“I want this,” he kept talking.

I wanted to believe that.

“You’re flawless,” I whispered.

His hand slid into my undies, his finger dipping deep, dragging hard against my clit. I lost all thought as his touch made my back arch right off the mattress and my hands shoot up, fingers curling into the waistband of his jeans. My eyes closed and a moan tore up my throat.

“So are you,” he muttered gruffly, dragging his finger back and doing it harder.

“Oh my,” I breathed.

“Yeah,” he ground out, pushing, dragging, circling.

Oh my.

“Joker,” I panted, unconsciously lifting my knees and spreading my legs to give him better access.

“Fuck yeah, Carrie,” he groaned as he shifted so he was no longer straddling me but positioned between my legs.

“Don’t stop that,” I begged, opening my eyes, trying to focus on his, pressing into him, feeling it building, all he was giving me, and doing it squirming. “Please.”

He didn’t do as I asked. He dragged his finger hard against my clit again and buried it inside me.

Oh yes.

My neck arched back, my head pressing into the pillow, my eyes closing again as I pushed down into his hand and moaned, “Okay, you can stop the other, stick with this.”

“Anything you want, Butterfly,” his voice came at me, thick but amused as he pulled his finger out and thrust it in. He did that awhile, I rode it awhile, writhing, panting, exhilarating, then he pulled out and thrust in two fingers as his thumb came to my clit.

My body jolted and I took one hand from his jeans to wrap it around his wrist to keep him precisely where I needed him to be.

“Oh God,” I breathed, my eyes opening, “Yes. That. More of that.”

“Yes. That,” he grunted, his voice no longer amused and now so thick, it felt like a hot touch, coating me. “More of that.”

I tried to take in the expression that went with his tone but I couldn’t. I was close and spiraling closer very, very quickly.

“You ready for me, Butterfly?” he asked.

I’d never been more ready.

“Yes,” I panted. “Yes, now, Joker. Please.”

I lost his fingers but I didn’t lose the feelings because of the hot, violent, delicious way he tore my panties down my legs.

I gasped and felt his weight bearing into my left hip as I heard a drawer open and him order, “Help me out, Carrie.”

I didn’t know what he wanted and I opened my eyes to see he had the edge of a condom packet between his teeth. He was still up on one hand in the bed but no longer pressed into my hip.

His eyes were consuming me.

With dumb luck, since I was so far from thinking it wasn’t funny, it hit me that to use that condom, he needed to be freed of his jeans.

And I needed him free of his jeans.

Immediately.

It was so hot, so unbelievably amazing to stare into his eyes as I unbuttoned his jeans, yanked them down to his hips and felt him spring free, hard and ready for me, I’d never forget it, that moment after he’d given so much to me, knowing I was about to get all of him.

“Thanks, baby,” he muttered.

“Hurry,” I pleaded.

Joker hurried. His eyes keeping mine captive, it took him no time at all to deal with things. Then I felt him guide himself to me and nudge through my wetness.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Ready?” he whispered back.

This was Joker.

And me.

Joker.

Carson Steele.

Oh yes. I was ready.

I nodded. “Absolutely.”

He slid inside.

My head again went back as I moaned, “Oh yes, yes, sweetheart.”

He started moving, suspended over me, slow and steady but with his leverage, deep.

Oh yes.

“More,” I begged.

“Wrap your legs around my thighs,” he ordered.

I did as told.

“Now just take me.”

I opened my eyes as he pulsed between my legs, far away but still close, connected. I lifted my hands and grasped onto his waist.

“Lift, tilt, move with me, Carrie,” he instructed, his voice now rasping.

I lifted, catching his rhythm and moving with him.

Oh gosh. Much better.

“Yes,” I panted.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Hold on, baby.”

I grasped him tighter with my fingers at his waist and my legs around his thighs.

When I did he went deeper. Faster.

“Yes,” I moaned, my fingers digging in hard.

His free hand roamed my belly, down and in, as in in.

And that was it.

“Yes!” I cried, my fingers clawing at his waist, my legs tightening so much that I lifted my hips off the bed and he pounded inside me as it scored through me, blazing heat like I’d never experienced, long and hot and wild and beautiful in a way I thought it would last forever and I wanted it to as Joker kept taking me.