Page 91 of Adoring Delaney

We were sitting at a round top table at the front of the room but off to the left a bit. We had a perfect view of Tommy Feels. Dinner had been consumed, plates cleared, and I was relaxed. So relaxed I was leaning into Carter and my eyes were closed. The music was good, the vibe in the room mellow.

It was perfect.

“Welcome, baby.”

Carter’s arm was around the back of my chair, his hand on my shoulder and he gave me a squeeze.

“You gonna marry me, Laney?”

This time I didn’t stiffen at his question. I smiled.

“Not yet, honey.”

“Right.” He chuckled.

We were in bed, Carter’s face was buried between my legs, my hands in his hair, my knees spread wide, giving him room to work his magic.

Good God, he was good at this. Mostly because he loved doing it. Partly because he was a good listener and paid attention to every sound I made, every buck of my hips. When he did something I liked, he continued to do it. Now he was flicking my clit with his tongue and had added his fingers. Thrusting them in and out until he found the spot that drove me crazy.

His face came up and my hands lost purchase in his hair. “I love you, Laney.”

“Love you,” I panted, rocking my hips harder.

“Can’t live without you,” he continued, still fucking me with his fingers and I was close. “Marry me, Delaney.”

My head tipped back and my eyes closed and I groaned at the sensations he was creating. My skin was on fire, my pussy was clenching, a tremble ran through me and Carter stopped.

“Not yet. Marry me.”

“Carter,” I moaned and lifted my hips. “I’m close.”

“Tell me you’ll marry me and I’ll take you there.”

Bastard.

Two could play his game.

My hand left the bed and went to my clit and rubbed hard, quick as lightning pins and needles pricked my skin.

Carter knocked my hand away and trapped it on the bed.

“Marry me.”

“No.”

“Marry me, Delaney,” he growled.

“Not yet.”

“Hands above your head,” he demanded.

I did his bidding, he came up on his knees and drove inside of me with such force the bed shook.

“Yes,” I groaned. “Harder, honey.”

“Christ,” he groaned. “So fucking sweet. Nothing better than being inside of you.”

He didn’t stop his punishing pace. Not when I wailed out my orgasm, nor when he built the second one and I was getting ready to tip over the edge. Carter wasn’t making love to me. He wasn’t even fucking me. He was proving a point and it wasn’t lost on me. He was the only man I’d ever had, he was the only one I ever would. And he could take me on a wild ride or a sweet adventure. There was nothing he couldn’t give me.

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