They might not have sex, but she was going to get as close as possible.
“Carrie, we can’t—”
“My fantasy,” she whispered.
She licked her palm, and then she stroked him once and placed him against her clit and slid up, then down.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he rasped, and gripped her hips, and she didn’t know if he was going to put her on him or hold her away. He seemed to be fighting instinct.
But she jerked and rocked. Every slide of his hard cock against her clit made fire spread through her veins and her skin slick with chilly heat. Hot ice taking over every atom that made up her body.
She worked herself over him faster.
Ground down harder. Her slickness made each glide up and down his impressive length more intense than the last.
She kissed him hard, and he dug his hands into her hips, moving her along him. He was taking part. Wanting it, just like she did.
He kissed down her neck and bit her cleavage. But then he pulled back. Like he was fighting himself.
Keeping up her motions, she held him close and threw her head back as he buried his face into her neck. But he didn’t move. Didn’t kiss her. She felt his hot breath against her throat. She moved their bodies so perfectly that she felt every ridge of him hit her core without actually penetrating.
It was going to happen again. She was going to come, and this time, she didn’t think she could hide it. Didn’t think she wanted to.
Then the sounds of Wendy and Kevin got louder. They were close to finishing, and this was still a game, after all. No matter how she was starting to feel about Blake.
But when her body started buzzing and her blood ignited with fire, her entire core shattered and she trembled from the intensity of her release.
“I’m coming!” she yelled.
Half to make sure Kevin and Wendy heard. And half because it was true.
The headboard pounded harder as she rocked herself through her orgasm.
Blake’s arms tightened around her. Holding her, hugging her to him. Feeling him throb between her legs made her come undone further.
“Blake!” She screamed his name with every fleck of pleasure she felt. Pleasure he was giving her.
She drenched him, and he kept sliding along her, prolonging her orgasm to world record status.
She thought she heard him mutter something like, “This is real,” but she couldn’t be sure.
She felt his body tense, his grip on her tighten, and every muscle he had flexed.
“Off— You have to get off me,” he said with a rasp.
She was confused, her own pleasure still galloping through her like a pack of wild horses and she shook in his arms, slowly moving her hips.
“Baby, you have to…move off me before…”
He grit his teeth, and she rocked one more time, and then she realized his struggle. His own release took over. The hot jets lashed over her lower stomach, and all she could do was kiss him hard.
Next door was quiet. Her deep, heavy breaths mingled with Blake’s.
There were a lot of things fake between them, but whatever emotions currently racing through her weren’t. Because in that moment, Carrie felt more real than she had in a long time.
Chapter Seven
“What looks good to you?” Carrie asked Blake. He looked up from his breakfast menu, the morning sun shining on both of them from the outdoor cabana they were sitting under.