“I can’t.” He laughed harder. “That’s really sad. So much for your ‘pretty decent’ sex.”

“No, what’s sad is a guy who claims he’s going to sleep around for the summer, but he’s not able to get it up for several days in a row.” I leaned back against my pillows, laughing.

“Is it really that funny?”

“You not being able to have your infamous “rough and dirty” sex? Yes, it definitely is…” I shut my eyes, still laughing, and the next thing I felt was his lips on mine. Threading his fingers through my hair, he kissed me harder, rougher—forcing me to open my eyes and look at him.

There was no sudden break away, no “what the hell was that?” between us. There was only a shared look of understanding, a silent confirmation that I wanted him to take things further. A lot further.

Pulling away from my mouth, he trailed his fingers against my lips. “Is there any reason why you decided to put on the worst clothes you own before I came over tonight?”

“What makes you think I would do something like that?”

He didn’t answer. He slowly slipped a finger into my mouth, and groaned when I flicked my tongue against it. Smiling, he slipped in another finger. “You can’t lie to me, Ari…” he said, pushing his fingers in and out. “I see right through you.”

“These aren’t my worst clothes…”

“They are.” He smirked, moving his fingers away. “But they’re not going to prevent me from fucking you tonight…” He pulled me out of the bed and made me stand in front of him.

He ran his hands across my breasts—palming them through the fabric of my shirt, making me moan as he gently twisted my nipples. “Take off your clothes…”

I stood still, entranced by the feel of his hands on me.

“Ari…” He squeezed my breasts.

“Yes?”

“Take off your clothes.”

I hesitated for a few seconds, and he leaned forward and gently bit my bottom lip.

“Right now,” he said.

I grabbed the hem of my shirt, but he placed his hands over mine and helped me pull it over my head. Without him saying anything else, he pulled the drawstring on my sweats, keeping his eyes on me as he stepped back and took off his shirt.

My breathing slowed as he unbuckled his jeans, as he slowly stepped out of his briefs and exposed his cock.

Oh my god…

I could feel my jaw dropping, feel redness crossing my cheeks, but I somehow managed to get out of my panties without taking my eyes off of him.

He grabbed my hand and placed it against his chest—trailing it across his abs, then lower and lower until I could hear his breathing slow with every touch.

His mouth latched onto mine again and his hands went around my waist, gripping me so tightly I could feel his fingers digging into my skin. Sliding his hand down a little lower, he slapped my ass. Hard.

“Ahhh…” I cried out as he did it again. And again…

The sharp pain was a complete contrast to the softer way he was kissing me, and I couldn’t explain why, but I loved the way he was making me feel.

I moaned as he began to slow our kiss, as he suddenly pulled away from my mouth and spun me around. His cock was against my ass, and his mouth was on my neck—softly biting my skin.

Shutting my eyes, I felt him running his hands up and down my sides, heard him whispering, “Am I allowed to fuck you the way I want to?” He bit me a little harder. “Or do you have a spreadsheet for that, too?”

I shook my head.

“Yes to fucking you the way I want to…” He slid a hand between my thighs. “Or yes to the spreadsheet?”

“The…” I stuttered as he pressed his thumb against my swollen clit and rubbed it. “The first one.”

“Good.” He suddenly bent me over my desk—pressing my chest against cold metal, and spread my legs.

I heard him unwrapping a condom behind me, heard him saying, “You’re so wet...” as he trailed a finger against my slit.

Gripping my hips, he leaned against me and pressed kisses against my spine.

One kiss. Two. Three…

I tried to focus on the warmth of his mouth, the strength of his hands, and when I was finally picking up on the pattern of his kisses, he started to slide inside of me.

Slow at first, very slow…

He forced himself deeper and finally filled me, and then he placed one last kiss on my back before pulling back and pounding into me so fast and hard I nearly lost my balance.

“Fuck, Ari…” He rasped. “You feel so good…”

“Ahhh…Ahhh…” I murmured as he reached between my legs and strummed my clit, never stopping his reckless rhythm—thrusting in and out of me again and again.

“Carter, I….” I could feel my legs trembling, feel my pussy throbbing. “Carter, I…”

“Shhh…” He pulled out of me and flipped me over, grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist before sliding into me again. He looked into my eyes, pressing his fingers against my mouth as I moaned.

Unable to hold on for too much longer, I tightened my legs around his waist, and when he thrust into me again I lost all control. I started to cry out his name as I reached my climax, but he covered his mouth with mine—muffling me as he reached his own release.

Panting and trembling, I shut my eyes—not answering any of his questions that he peppered with forehead kisses.

The next thing I felt was him pulling out of me and lifting me up, placing me into my bed. I heard him step out into the hallway bathroom and run water, and then I felt him wiping a warm cloth between my legs.

He placed another kiss against my forehead, whispering, “I love the way you say my name when you come…”

With my heart still racing a mile a minute, I had no idea what the hell I should say to that. No idea how the hell Chinese food had turned to fucking…

I just continued to lay in bed with him beside me, with him running his fingers through my hair and softly caressing my neck.

I was certain he had nothing else to say either, because hours later, he fell asleep and I was still staring at my pale white ceiling. I tried shutting my eyes and forcing sleep, but my body wouldn’t allow it.

My lips wanted to be kissed again, my thighs wanted to be caressed, and there was a yearning ache between my thighs that I’d never felt before.

To make sure I wasn’t dreaming, or stuck in the middle of one of my recent fantasies, I looked over at Carter and made sure he was asleep. Then I trailed my hand down between my thighs—touching to see if my clit was in fact really swollen or if I really was—

“You’re still horny?” Carter whispered, a smile in his voice.

I ignored him and immediately moved my hand away, keeping my eyes glued to the ceiling.

“Ari?” he asked again.

I didn’t answer.

He let out a low laugh and moved on top of me, looking into my eyes. “Ari…”

“Yes?”

“Are you still wet?”

“No.”

Smirking, he slid a hand between my thighs, getting the true answer to his question. “Would you like me to help you with this?”

I shook my head and he leaned down, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. “Why not?”