A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(115)

“Shit,” he muttered. “You need a towel.”

He made to step past her, toward the bathroom, but she stopped him in his tracks with her palms firmly on his waist, and her forehead pressed hard against his chest. Carter’s breath shuddered out at the contact. He couldn’t move. He didn’t know what he was meant to do. Last time he’d tried to touch her, she’d screamed and run away. He couldn’t cope with that shit again.

They stood motionless. Her shoulders shook with the sobs tumbling from her. He wanted to rub her back or touch her hair … but, dammit, he daren’t.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her hands clutched his sides tightly, the water in his T-shirt running down her knuckles.

Carter’s throat constricted.

Gradually, her hands slid up his chest to his neck. She lifted her head.

“I’m sorry.” Her small fingers grasped at his skin and her breath burned hot across his collarbone. “I’m— Oh God, Carter. I’m so sorry.”

Carter tried to clear his throat of the huge lump of emotion blocking it while she continued to whisper her apologies. With each one that left her, another piece of the punk-ass wall Carter had built around himself came tumbling down at her feet.

“I don’t need a towel. I need you.” Her body shook against him. “I need you so much.”

Carter’s head collapsed against hers. “Peaches.” His arms wound around her. “You have me.” He gripped the bottom of her shirt in his hands. “You always have.”

She bit her lip. Her face crumpled and her hand smoothed carefully over the cheek she’d struck. “Like you have me.”

Reaching up onto her toes, she placed her hot lips under his eye, murmuring again about how sorry she was. How she would beg for his forgiveness. How much he meant to her. Her lips were perfect as she kissed slowly and tenderly across his face, across his eye, his brow, and down his other cheek to the corner of his mouth.

Carter froze when her tongue brushed across his bottom lip. His hands automatically gripped her waist so that he remained upright on his wobbling knees. He wanted her so much. Jesus, would she ever know how much? How insane he was for her?

He bent down, desperate for her touch, and their lips met in the softest, slowest, most sensual kiss. He opened his mouth to her, his breath leaving him in gasps and shaking groans when her tongue met his again. He closed his lips around it, and sucked gently while his hands moved from their place on her waist, up and under her shirt.

His palms slid easily against her wet skin and the kiss instantly deepened with a loud groan from them both. Carter swallowed every breath she gave him, owning each one, and pulled her closer, wanting her to feel how hard he was and how much he craved to be inside of her.

Needed to be inside of her, consumed by her.

Her hands moved to the bottom of his shirt, where she tugged in question. He moved back so she could pull it over his head. Her mouth was immediately on his chest, licking and kissing, nibbling and driving him crazy.

Perfect. Her lips were f*cking perfect.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured into his skin.

Carter was suddenly desperate for more of her mouth, her taste, and crushed his lips hard against hers, forcing his tongue inside. She moaned loudly, holding him closer. He pulled at her shirt and ripped it over her head, mourning the few seconds her lips weren’t pressing against his.

Her pale blue bra was next to go. Carter groaned when he saw the nipples he’d gotten to know so well the night before. They were erect and stunning, and reacted instantly when Carter’s thumbs caressed them.