Unconditional
Page 38

I cry out, arching up against his lips. His tongue scrapes against me, hot and wet, sucking at my nipple and sending explosions of pleasure slamming through my body as I come undone. He moves to my other breast, his hand replacing his lips now, squeezing and rolling at the tender flesh as I cling on for dear life, lost under the crashing waves of sensation and gasping for every breath.
Garrett lifts his head and kisses lower, hungry, tasting every inch of my skin in a molten path all the way down my stomach. I tense, but there’s no pause, no time to even breathe before my panties are gone, ripped away, and I feel the wet lick of his tongue swoop up against my clit, there, oh God there, between my thighs, aching and damp and crying out for him.
“Garrett!” I moan, throwing my head back, grasping to tangle my fingers in his hair. He dips his head and licks me again, deadly and possessive, gripping my thighs and yanking them roughly apart to spread me wider, na**d to him and totally exposed. I’m past caring, past thought; all that matters is the glorious sweep of his tongue against me, swirling across my tender nub, over and over until I’m delirious with pleasure. His tongue strays lower, probing at my entrance, plunging inside me in a ruthless rhythm that sends me soaring, crying out for more.
The heat crashes through my body, consuming me. God, I’ve never felt anything like this before. The other guys I’ve been with never went down on me, or if they did, it was reluctant, impatient. But Garrett, oh, he devours me, lapping hungrily against me like he can’t get enough. It’s an onslaught of sensation, almost more than I can take, and I throw my arms back, clutching at the couch frame, holding on for dear life as the pleasure slams through me, rising, cresting me to the glittering dark.
Garrett grips me tighter, sliding one hand up my thigh to join his mouth and f**k, now it’s too much, his fingers stroking, teasing at my folds as his tongue laps my cl*t relentlessly. I writhe in his arms, trying to buck away from the sensation, but he clamps his other hand down on my chest, pinning me into the cushions, not pausing for a moment.
“Garrett,” I gasp, shaking. It’s too much, too much, but not enough all at once. I can’t understand it, every touch drives me higher, strung out, but still burning for him, an empty ache deep inside. “Please,” I beg, not even knowing what I’m begging for. “Garrett, please!”
He answers with a groan, a deep rumble I feel against my core, and then he’s angling my legs up around his neck, spreading me wider, not pausing his assault for one second. I gasp for air, reeling, but there’s no time catch my breath, no time for anything except to throw back my head and scream as he thrusts two fingers deep inside me.
I break.
The world shatters into a thousand pieces, dark and dizzying. I jolt up against his mouth, crying out as the pleasure takes me over the edge, but Garrett doesn’t stop. He curls his fingers up inside me, thrusting deeper, closing his lips around my cl*t and sucking hard.
The pleasure slams through me, over and over again. I buck against him, undone, lost to the tidal wave crashing over me, his mouth and fingers and oh, the hot glitter of ecstasy. I fall into the darkness, surrendering completely as it takes me, drowning me, tossing me under in the storm of passion until at last the waves slowly ebb away, leaving me gasping and undone on the shore.
Garrett releases me.
I lie there, unmoving, still lost. My brain is foggy, clouded with a golden haze, every limb heavy and suffused with pleasure. I loll back, catching my breath.
God, I feel…delicious.
I giggle, finally lifting my head. “Jesus,” I gasp, my voice sounding foreign to me. “Wow.”
Garrett is watching me, rocked back on his heels. His eyes trace down my body, and I follow the path of his gaze. I’m a mess: bra bunched around my waist, panties hooked off one foot. The bare bulb overhead is unforgiving, and for a moment, my stomach clenches, wondering what he sees. The cellulite, the flaws. Then I look up at his eyes again, and see no judgment there.
Nothing but desire, bold and dark.
I shiver. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I say, reaching for him. It’s crazy, but I still feel a need clawing at me, deep inside. I’ve only had a taste of him, of what his body can do. I still want more.
All of him.
I tug his T-shirt up, sliding my hands across the smooth, muscular planes of his stomach.
Garrett jolts away like he’s been burned.
“Carina, no.” He gets up, taking three quick paces away from the couch. When he turns back to me, his face is shuttered: the desire hidden, locked behind a stony facade of control. “I shouldn’t have done this. I’m sorry.”
Realization crashes through me. He still thinks this is a mistake, still believes it’s wrong to touch me, hold me. Fuck me.
“Goodnight.” Garrett backs away from me, and the look in his eyes is so bleak that it cuts through my hazy afterglow, chasing the cotton-wool pleasure from my veins and replacing it with hard determination.
“Don’t you dare take another step.” My voice echoes, sharp in the room.
Garrett stops.
I scramble up off the couch. My bra digs into me, so I pull it off and advance on him; I’m naked, totally exposed, but I don’t care, not now. “I’m not letting you do this,” I vow, “not again.”
“Carina.” Garrett’s voice is agonized. He clenches his jaw, refusing to look at me. “You don’t understand. I’m trying to do the right thing!”
“No!” I yell, my frustration finally boiling over. “You’re treating me like damaged goods!”