A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(179)

Kat held her breath when he reached her belly button. He circled it twice before his finger dipped into it teasingly. Unable to hold her head up any longer, Kat lay back against the pillows, giving herself over to her senses, while Carter continued his wonderful exploration of her more-than-willing body.

“Your skin is so soft here.” His hand skimmed the waistband of her shorts. “So soft.”

Kat gasped when his lips pressed onto the same spot, and purred when Carter’s tongue licked along the trail his finger had just taken.

“Carter,” she moaned.

“What is it, baby?” He moved gradually so his body was leaning over hers.

Kat’s hands moved from his hair, finding his broad shoulders that flexed powerfully under her palms. His chest pressed against her.

“I miss your lips.”

His thumb skimmed her jaw, as his stare burned across her mouth.

“Please.” The word escaped Kat’s lips as a wanton whisper.

Desperate need bubbled below the surface of her skin. The inevitable explosion of passion, always so present when she was with him, was only one touch away.

“Tell me what you want,” he said gruffly. “Keep looking at me like that and I swear to God I’ll give you anything.”

“Kiss me,” she begged. “Just kiss me.”

*

Kat’s mouth, pink, wet, and soft, entranced Carter. They’d kissed a million times, in a million different ways, but her request seemed so f*cking huge that, for a split second, he could do nothing but stare. A divine image of her mouth around his dick immediately flashed before him, simultaneously drying his throat and weighing his body down to hers in seconds.

Skin to skin, flush and warm.

Carter tried to calm himself but struggled. Fact was, his body didn’t feel like his own. It was as though something had taken it over, like it was being controlled by something.

Something bigger. Something incomprehensible.

He closed his eyes and exhaled a soothing breath.

Who was he kidding? Kat had taken him over. Kat had control over him.

She’d had a hold on him since he was eleven years old. And if he hadn’t realized it before, he sure as shit knew now that he’d loved her every second, minute, and hour of those sixteen long years. He’d lost himself to her on a lonely, dark street one heartbreaking night in the Bronx, and now he finally understood that he’d never, ever truly found himself again.

Sixteen years. Five thousand eight hundred and forty-four days.

Jesus, how had he survived without her for so long?

He loved her, desperately, and, truthfully, it terrified him. He’d missed her without even knowing her and fantasized about her whenever he’d begun to lose himself to the bullshit surrounding him as he grew up. If he weren’t so hypnotized by her, Carter would have laughed at his own blindness and the ridiculous denial he’d immersed himself in since Kat had come back into his life.

As subtle as it was, her body writhed underneath him. Her legs shifted against the mattress and her hips lifted, rocking toward him, seeking out any type of friction. She was exquisite. He opened his mouth, gasping into her. His entire body shook when he pressed his lips to hers, and he grunted when she pulled him down, deepening the kiss quickly.

Their tongues met, reunited, touching, tasting, and rubbing together, inside her mouth, then inside his. Carter gripped her waist with one hand and her face with the other as their passion began to snap and sizzle. Sweet Jesus, the heavy ache pounding between his legs was torturous. He ground his hips against her stomach, showing her what she did to him. Not that she would ever understand. She had no comprehension at all.