Carter begins to fuck me with his hand, deliciously slow strokes setting off fireworks in my synapses. My spine arches against the bookshelf as the first shockwaves of an orgasm begin to build inside me.
I mewl out his name as he kisses me again — so forcefully I’m certain my lips will bruise. I don’t care. I kiss him back just as forcefully, hardly able to think straight with his fingers moving inside me. The orgasm he conjures is so powerful, I scream into his mouth as I shake in his arms, aftershocks moving through me for nearly a full minute. Still, I’m not satiated.
I need more.
I need him.
Inside me.
Right now.
With impatient fingers, I work the buckle of his belt and slide down his zipper, delving my hand into his pants without delay. He’s hard enough to make my bones turn watery; without him there to hold me upright, I’d be a puddle of limbs on the library floor.
Bolts of desire are shooting between my legs without reprieve, an erotic electrical storm raging through my entire body. When I feel Carter poised at my entrance, the head of his cock butting against my slick core, I think I might explode from the intensity of my need for him.
“Carter,” I whisper, an unspoken plea.
He answers with a thrust of his hips, groaning as he drives inside me, the force of it nearly toppling the shelf at my back. More books tumble to the floor as he begins to move, a breakneck pace that matches the thunder of my heartbeat — so hard, so fast, so deep I think I might break in two beneath his hands.
Clinging for dear life, I score my nails into his shoulders as he brings us both toward the breaking point, one stroke at a time.
Yes.
God.
Yes.
A throbbing pressure is building within me — an inescapable current, threatening to carry me away. My half-lidded eyes hold Carter’s, never breaking contact. His jaw is locked tight, every vein in his neck distended with desire as he fucks me harder than he ever has before.
Like he knows it will be the last time.
His breaths have grown labored, his pupils dilated with desire. I can see he’s close to coming; as close as I am. We are one being, one entity, moving in perfect sync.
“You’re mine,” he growls through clenched teeth. “No matter who you marry, no matter what happens when you leave this room, no matter if we never see each other again.” He drives even deeper, each thrust underscoring his words. “You. Are. Mine.”
My moan is a scream — of despair, of desire. Of pleasure and pain.
“Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I choke out breathlessly.
“Forever.”
“Forever.”
With that, we both climax — his head buried in the crook of my neck as he spills into me, my face arching up to the ceiling as my mind blanks in a shower of sparks.
My love.
I am yours.
Then.
Now.
Always.
…even when I’m his.