Page 30 of Carter
39
Harper
Carter’s weight settled over me, not crushing but protective, surrounding me in strength and warmth. His lips moved over mine with a hunger that stole every breath, but there was reverence in it too—like he was memorizing me, like each kiss was a vow.
When his mouth trailed down my throat, I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his hair. The sound he made rumbled against my skin, low and rough, and it sent heat sparking all the way through me.
“Tell me you want this,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to search my face. His eyes were molten steel, dark with need and edged with fear. “Tell me before I lose my mind.”
“I want this. I want you,” I whispered, pulling him back to me before the words could even settle in the air.
That was all it took.
His hands slid under the hem of my shirt, calloused palms skimming across my stomach as he pushed it upward. The shirt was gone in seconds, tossed aside, his gaze searing overevery inch of bare skin. For a heartbeat, he just looked, his chest rising hard, reverence written in every line of his face.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, almost broken, before his mouth claimed me again, trailing lower, worshipping every place his hands touched.
I tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel him, to match his skin against mine. He stripped it off in one motion, and my breath caught at the sight of him—scars and muscle, every mark a story of survival. I traced one along his ribs with trembling fingers.
“They don’t matter,” he said, catching my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Only this. Only us.”
The rest unraveled in a blur of heat and need. Clothes fell away, barriers crumbling until nothing stood between us. When he finally pushed inside me, I gasped, clutching at him, every nerve alight.
“Harper,” he groaned against my ear, his body shuddering as if the sound of my name undone him completely.
We moved together, slow at first, each breath, each touch building into something deeper. He held me like I was fragile, but I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, urging him faster.
“Not fragile,” I whispered, breathless. “I’m not glass. I’m yours.”
His answer was a kiss that stole the words from my mouth, his rhythm turning fierce, desperate, every thrust a vow that he would never let me go. My body tightened, pleasure cresting until it broke, shattering through me in waves that left me clinging to him, crying his name.
Carter followed, his whole body trembling as he buried himself deep, his groan muffled against my neck. He held me through it, arms locked tight around me as if the world itself might try to pull us apart.
When the storm eased, he didn’t let go. He stayed insideme, his forehead pressed to mine, his voice hoarse when he finally spoke.
“You’re everything, Harper. Everything I never thought I’d have.”
Tears slipped free, but they weren’t from fear this time. I cupped his jaw, kissed him soft, and whispered back the truth I’d been too afraid to say aloud.
“And you’re mine.”
40
Carter
She was draped over me, her cheek resting on my chest, her breath warm against my skin. My arms tightened instinctively, as if the moment I let go she might slip back into the nightmare that had almost taken her from me.
The room smelled like her—like us. Sweat, warmth, the faint sweetness of her hair tangled against my jaw. For the first time in what felt like years, the tension in my chest eased.
She shifted, propping her chin on her hand, her fingers drawing lazy patterns over one of the scars along my ribs. “You never talk about these.”
I glanced down, following the path of her touch. Old wounds, each with a story I’d buried. “Nothing worth remembering.”
Her brows knit. “That’s not true. They’re part of you.”
“Part I’d rather you never had to see.”
She leaned in, pressing a kiss to the scar, soft and lingering. “I don’t see scars. I see a man who fought like hell tosurvive. A man who would burn down the world to protect me.”
