Page 67 of Cross the Line

“Condom?” I asked.

He tucked an arm behind his head. “Nightstand.”

I went over, grabbing one before ripping open the packet. I slid it down his cock, loving the way he watched me.

“Get over here,” he demanded in a gruff voice.

I straddled him, my hands on his chest. I sank down slowly, watching his face as I took him. Feeling so incredibly full.

“Yes,” I breathed. This was what I’d needed.

His eyes fluttered closed, dark lashes against his skin. His breath hitched, and I didn’t know why, but I felt the need to place my hand over his heart.

“Carson?”

He opened his eyes, bringing my hand to his mouth so he could kiss my palm, the inside of my wrist. “I’m…” He swallowed hard. “You’re incredible. You know that?”

I dipped my head, my chest warming from his praise. “You mean my pussy’s incredible.”

“That too,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear.

He slid his hands down to my waist, spanning to encompass my ass, his cock buried deep inside me. His filthy words whispered in my ear as he made me forget about anything and everything else except the pleasure coursing between us.

At least until his phone buzzed again. We both laughed, assuming who it was from.

“I have an idea for our final message to Boone.” Carson gripped my ass, giving it a squeeze. “I want to show him exactly—” Another thrust, this time more forceful. “What I think—” He punctuated his words with physical actions, aggressive and commanding. If I’d had any doubt of him wanting to share, there wasn’t now. “Of his offer to join us.”

“Oh yeah?” I grinned, loving this game we were playing. Loving the fact that Carson was coming undone, and it was because of me. “Show me.”

He grinned, the challenge sparking in his eyes as he likely remembered the other time I’d asked him to “show me.” Christmas Eve. The sounds of the airport filtering in. Him in my jersey.

My nipples grazed his chest, my body pulsing and humming from pleasure. I felt him everywhere. My breasts, my clit. His hands on my ass, his eyes on my mouth. Hungry. Wanting. Savage.

The man had sex like he played hockey—aggressive, domineering, and strategic. And he was blowing past all my defenses.

“Are you going to show me?” I asked.

He sat up so his arms were wrapped around me. “You’ll have to hold still for just a second.” I settled on his lap, squeezing my inner muscles and making him groan. “Jesus.”

I laughed, kissing his neck. His cheek, near his ear. He smelled so good—like a hike after a rainstorm. Fresh. Rugged. Dependable.

Carson showed me the image he’d captured, and I grinned. In the photo, a woman—me—was poised on Carson’s lap, my back to the camera. Carson’s strong thighs held me in place. My hair was wild and untamed, tumbling down my back. And his free hand was giving the reflection the middle finger.

“Perfect.” I grinned.

“Good.” He switched off his phone and tossed it aside before saying, “Maybe that will shut him up.”

“Boone?” I scoffed. “I’m not sure the man knows how to be quiet.”

“You’re right.” Carson laughed, brushing my hair away from my face in a moment that felt tender and vulnerable. “What do you need to come? Because—and I hate to admit this—I am embarrassingly close.”

I smiled, loving his honesty and openness. Loving the fact that he wanted me this much, and he didn’t hold back. It would be easy to fall for a guy like Carson.

And that was exactly why I needed to remember what this was—sex. Satisfying a need. Getting out of my head.

So instead of continuing in a position that would allow us to be face-to-face, I said, “On your knees. I want to watch us in the mirror while you fuck me from behind.”

He groaned, his cock pulsing inside me. I grinned, standing so we could reposition. I stared at our reflection, watching as he pumped into me. He roamed my body with his hands, his lips, seeking out all the places that made me gasp and clench.