His condom-covered cock.
I can’t help smiling. I can’t help kissing him again. Then as I’m kissing him he shoves inside me and steals my breath. Steals my soul.
“Oh, Carter,” I murmur, struggling to adjust as he fills me in a way he never has before. “Oh, God.”
Pressing his forehead to mine in a show of tenderness, he moves inside me. As the breadth of his cock steadily rubs my walls, intense pleasure courses through my body. Again and again and again. I can’t stop moaning as he moves in and out of me, as the pleasure builds and builds.
It’s not just the pleasure that feels so incredible, but the intimacy between us. Having him so close fills me with affection while he uses his body to fill me with pleasure. Between all that, the submission of my position juxtaposed with the dominance of his, and the faint background feeling of finally getting my hands on a hard-won reward, my heart opens up like a flower, unafraid of exposing its delicacy to damage from such a potentially dangerous visitor.
When my body can’t take anymore, it vaults over the precipice, freefalling into pleasure. I cry out and Carter kisses me, catching the sounds of my pleasure against his lips. The pleasure goes on as he rubs my sensitive walls, extending the pleasure.
“Fuck, Zoey,” he murmurs, closing his eyes.
All the strength rushes out of my body. I slide a bit on the floor as Carter continues to pump into me, but I don’t have the energy to try to hold myself in place. Turns out I don’t have to; a moment later he groans, his muscles go taut, and he thrusts deep. I don’t feel him come this time because he’s wearing the condom, but once he’s spent, he collapses on top of me like before.
Thoroughly satisfied and still bursting with affection, I wrap my arms around Carter and hold him close. I love the feeling of his warm, muscular back beneath my fingers. When I get the energy back, I want him to roll over so I can kiss him everywhere, trail my lips over the ridges of his washboard abs, kiss my way down the V framing his pelvic area. Hell, I’ll take him in my mouth again and really show my gratitude for all that pleasure.
I sigh blissfully, caught up in a sexy thought bubble of all the things I want to do to his body, then he lifts his head up just enough to kiss me.
My brain sees where I’m going and makes a valiant effort to stop my mouth from moving, but it gets ignored. When my determined mouth opens, I let crazy, reckless words tumble right out.
“I think I love you.”
My stomach bottoms out even though my tone was light and dreamy, far from a heavy declaration. He’ll still probably take it a weird way. My brain immediately starts generating justifications and excuses. This explosion of hormones and affection has left me vulnerable; the hit of oxytocin makes me feel fonder of him, the flood of dopamine to my brain has clearly impaired my ability to reason. I might as well be on drugs! He can’t hold me responsible for things I say during sex, just like I don’t hold him accountable for things he says during sex—the only difference is that he says mean stuff and I say nice stuff. Besides, I’m a Christian; I love everybody! It doesn’t have to mean anything dramatic…
Instead of getting freaked out, though, Carter grins. “Oh yeah? Damn, I must have fucked you good.”
I smile back with faint relief and nod my head. “So good.”
After a lingering kiss, he tells me, “Spend the night and I’ll do it again.”
Mm, that’s tempting. “I’ll ask my mom,” I tell him. “In any case, could we move this production off the floor? It’s not the most comfortable place in the world. Usually when I’m lyin’ on the floor, I at least have a nice, cushiony yoga mat beneath me.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, climbing off me. “I’ve gotta go get rid of this stupid fucking condom anyway.”
I offer him another glowing smile. “Thank you.”
Since he gets up first, I allow myself a moment to admire his well-sculpted ass as he walks away. He’s so sexy. I want to say all the nice things to him right now.
I wish I could bottle up these lovey post-orgasm feelings so I can take hits later, when he’s testing my patience.
Oh well, might as well enjoy the dopamine rush while it lasts.
Chapter 33
After a brief text exchange with my mom grants me permission to stay the night, Carter does, in fact, sex me into a stupor again. This time we’re in his bed, and this time he doesn’t bother with a condom, but at least I won one round. I already have an appointment Monday after school to get on birth control, so I’ll ask the doctor for whatever starts working immediately.