Page 95 of Stand Your Ground
“Watch. Make sure no one sees us,” I commanded.
And then I gave in.
It may not have felt like it to Carter, but even telling him as much as I had made me feel off-kilter, like I was hovering on the edge of a cliff with one foot in the air, losing strength and balance.
I’d given him all I could, and now I needed to take.
I closed my eyes and surrendered to the feel of him, to the knowledge that anyone could see us at any moment. Someone might be watching right now.
That thought turned me on even more, and I rode faster, rolling my hips to find the friction I needed against my clit.
I rocked and rode, holding fast to his shoulders, savoring all the groans of restraint that slipped from his perfect lips.
I came quickly, muffling my moans with my mouth around his trap, teeth sinking into the flesh just enough to satiate me and make him hiss with delight. And because I was a gracious Domme, I let him come when I was finished, let him pump himself inside me until he trembled and cursed and clutched me to him.
We didn’t talk about my family after that.
And I found my balance again, the scales tipped neatly back in my favor.
But with Carter, balance never stayed put for long. He had a way of slipping past my defenses without even meaning to, loosening bricks I’d mortared in years ago.
I wondered if it would be his persistence that toppled the wall…
Or if I’d be the one handing him the sledgehammer.
How Wrong You Are
Livia
Three days passed without seeing Carter in person, but he made sure I didn’t forget him.
I threw myself into work for the rest of the week, burying my head in numbers, emails, and meetings until my eyes burned. Still, he had a way of slipping in. A text waiting for me every time I stepped out for a coffee run. A bag of Thai takeout delivered to my door after a twelve-hour day, no note exceptEat, Coach. A late-night call when I was already in bed, his voice low and lazy as he complained about how bored he was on break, yapping about absolutely nothing until I finally told him to hang up and go to sleep.
But it was the third day that he really got under my skin.
First it was a smug selfie on the golf course, his arm slung around one of his teammates, the other holding up a gaudy little trophy like he’d just won the Masters instead of whatever beer-fueled scramble they’d been playing. Something about his goofy, care-free grin, and the fact that he’d wanted to text me had an unbidden smile spreading on my face. It was like he was a proud cat with a mouse in his teeth prancing over to show his owner. I loved that he thought of me, that he wanted to brag to me, to show me how well he’d done.
And then I’d promptly scolded myself for feeling anything at all.
Then, hours later, when I thought I finally had a hold on my emotions, another photo came through — this one darker and grainier. It was him, Jaxson, and some rookies I wasn’t too familiar with at a bar, drinks in hand, neon lights bleeding into the frame. The text beneath it read:
Carter:Alright, Coach. Think I’m ready for the big leagues? We’re at Boomer’s and there’s a whole group of women trying to get behind the ropes of our VIP section. Should I try to land one and take her home?
The heat that flared in my chest was immediate and uninvited — sharp, hot, and blatantly territorial. He was acting in accordance with our contract, asking me for permission before he pursued anyone else.
But I was pissed he even wanted to.
I rolled my eyes and typed back with a fury I didn’t know I possessed.
Me:Bold of you to think you’re ready for that. Come here and I’ll show you exactly how wrong you are.
He’d showed up an hour later.
I had him bound before he could get a word out, delivering a firm smack to his ass as punishment for even suggesting another woman could fill my role.
He’d only grinned, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss before murmuring words that tilted my whole world.
“Come on, now. You know I don’t actually want anyone else. I just wanted your attention. And I got it.”
