Page 64 of Cross the Line

Whether he’d realized it or not, Carson had positioned us perfectly so we were in the frame of the mirror. I couldn’t decide where to look, what to watch. Carson as he lowered his head to worship my center, or the vision of the two of us in the mirror.

As soon as his lips met my skin, it became nearly impossible to focus on much of anything but the feel of his tongue and his mouth. I clutched his hair as if to give myself purchase, my toes curling of their own accord. It had been so long, and it felt so good.

His eyes remained on mine, watching my reactions, responding in turn. It was as if we were having a conversation without words, our bodies communicating everything. He sucked my clit between his lips; I arched my back. He teased my entrance with his finger, and I whimpered. Action. Reaction. Cause. Effect.

His phone buzzed again, reminding me that Boone was still waiting for a response. Still taunting Carson about his fake girlfriend. As if a guy like Carson would ever have a fake anything.

Carson pulled back momentarily, his lips shiny with my desire, his curls mussed from my hands. “Still want to shut him up?”

I nodded. “He deserves it.”

He held out his phone. “Show me what you had in mind.”

I bit back a grin, accepting the device and the challenge. But then Carson lowered his mouth to my center, and my pleasure dominated everything. My mind, my body, Carson was in control of it all.

“Well…?” He looked at me expectantly, a cocky smirk on his kissable lips.

“Right. Right.” I let out a jagged breath, on the edge, the need to come overwhelming. “I’m finding it difficult to concentrate at the moment.”

His answering chuckle was dark, sensual, and wicked. It curled around me, making me want to do naughty things just to hear it again.

“I want⁠—”

He inserted a finger, and I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think.

“You want…?” he taunted, sexy and confident. He knew exactly what he was doing.

I growled, my orgasm somehow both so close yet just out of reach. “I want to come.”

“And you will,” he promised. “But look how pretty you are, begging me for it. Boone will fucking lose his mind.”

Carson’s reminder prompted me to point the camera at the mirror, and I saw what he saw. A woman in the throes of passion, wild and sexy and free.

I angled the camera so nothing above my neck was visible. My skin was flushed with color, my nipples hard peaks just visible beneath my sheer bra. The muscles of Carson’s back were on full display along with his tattoos. His hands were splayed over my body—one on my thigh, the other curled around my side to cover my Olympic rings tattoo. It was hot. So fucking hot.

I snapped a few pictures, playing with the angle. Uploading it to the app and adding a black-and-white filter.

“Show me,” he rasped.

I held up the phone, my eyes fluttering closed briefly as he continued to circle my clit with his thumb.

“Fuck.” The sound was guttural and raw. “That’s hot.” His eyes darted between me and the photos as if he couldn’t decide what to focus on either. He shifted, pressing his lips to my hip in a move that was both sweet and sensual, and my thumb hovered over the “Send To” button.

“You going to send it?” he asked, peering up at me. There was no pressure, only curiosity. The decision was mine and mine alone.

I’d never done something like this, and even if we never sent the photos, I was enjoying myself. Still…part of me wanted to send them. Wanted to do something that felt a little forbidden and daring.

I reached out for Carson, cupping his cheek. He leaned into my touch. “Should I?”

“I’m good either way.” He turned, kissing my palm. “It’s one hundred percent your call.” Just as I’d suspected.

I considered it a moment then hit send. I started typing out a message but nearly dropped the phone when Carson slid a second finger inside me. I cried out from pleasure, the sensations almost too much. Too good.

“You’re very…” I sighed, my body wound tight with pleasure. Carson pumped his fingers inside me as he continued to work my clit.

“Handsome?” He grinned. “Talented with my hands?”

He knew exactly what he was doing. I wanted to deny it, but I couldn’t. Instead, I finished typing, “Believe me now?” and hit send.