A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(98)

She rested against the doorframe and smiled, but it was forced and was gone far too quickly. Her eyes were flat, missing their shine.

“I came to see you,” she replied with a playful tap of her fingertip against his nose. Carter frowned. “Can I come in?”

“Um, yeah, yeah, sure,” he replied.

He watched her walk in like a timid animal, and closed the door behind her. Keeping his grip on the handle, he closed his eyes for a beat, trying to collect himself. He took a deep breath and turned around to find her staring back at him in a way that made his pulse race.

“Peaches,” he began, “how did you know where—”

Carter’s words were eaten up by Peaches’ mouth as it smashed into his own. She came at him with such force that his back thumped hard into the door behind him. Her hands were suddenly everywhere: his hair, his face, his chest—oh shit—his ass.

She felt good. So good, pressed against him, eager for him, wanting him. He wondered if she was wet and moaned into her mouth when her tongue slammed into his. She groaned loudly in answer and pushed her hips into his, begging him. He wanted to take her: hard, right there, slamming against the door, but the whole thing just seemed … wrong?

She kissed him with a desperation that wasn’t sexy. It was needy and panicked.

[page]His hands, wrapped tightly around her waist, moved to her face, where he pushed her back. She panted against his cheek with her eyes closed and her lips still in a full, gorgeous pout.

“Peaches,” he gasped before swallowing. “Shit. Just … wait a second.”

“No,” she replied, burning her gaze into his. “I want you. I want you now”—she licked his throat—“inside me, f*cking me, taking me.”

“Fuuuuck,” Carter moaned, rotating his hips against her, pushing his erection against her soft stomach.

“Yes!” She took his bottom lip between her teeth. “I can feel how hard you are, Carter. Tell me you want me. Tell me you want me and that you want it as much as I do.”

“Want it?” Carter growled incredulously. He bent, grabbing the backs of her thighs, and yanked her off her feet so her legs wrapped around his waist, her heat pressing perfectly against his belly button, her flip-flops falling to the floor.

“Peaches, I don’t want it.” He pushed his face into her neck, smelling her peach-scented hair, and bit her skin, making her gasp. He sucked her earlobe. “Jesus Christ.” He lifted his face and placed his nose at the side of hers. “I f*cking need it.”

Their lips met again, passionate and raw. My God, Carter had never experienced a need like it. It was all-consuming, heady. It swelled in his body, ready to erupt like a volcano: ready to erupt into her.

Her hands gripped the back of his neck as Carter staggered through his living room, bumping into the back of the couch. He leaned against it for one second while his hands shifted up and under her top, her soft skin against his palms.

Setting off with a grunt while Peaches moved her mouth to his jaw and began nibbling it in the sexiest, most sensual way, Carter moved toward his bedroom, wishing to all f*ck that his bed would meet him halfway.

Carter was harder than he’d ever been in his entire life as his knees hit the side of his bed with a dull thump. Peaches lifted her mouth from his and pulled hard on his shoulders, toppling him, and making him fall forward onto the bed, on top of her. The feel of her legs wrapped around Carter’s waist while he ground against her was incredible. He bent her neck back and started kissing, licking, and biting her from her chin to her collarbone and back again. He was suddenly frantic with the need to consume her: every part of her.