41. CASSANDRA

I never understood how this could feel. You can’t imagine something like this until you experience it. Even my pocket rocket pales in comparison.

Carson kindly lets me recover my vision for a few moments as he rummages through his pants pockets. Finally he emerges with a foil square in his fingers.

He comes back to the bed and I reach out and grab the condom.

“I want to do it,” I say, trying to look like a dirty vamp.

It must work, because his cock bobs up and down in appreciation.

“Okay,” he says, eyes wide.

I’ve never done this before, obviously, but as Carson pointed out, I’m a very capable person. A quick study, you could say. I tear along the dotted line and remove the disk, leaving the package on the night table.

Carson kneels in front of me as I drop to all fours on the bed. I grasp his cock by the base and pull him closer. He obliges by shuffling a couple of inches on his knees.

The tip of his cock is gleaming as I unroll the condom over it. Once it’s past the edge of the head, the edge of no return, I grab hold with my thumb and forefinger and unspool it down to the base. It’s so thin – almost like you can’t even see it.

That’s the limit of my bravery, though. My belly fills with butterflies as Carson positions himself above me and between my open thighs. He props himself with one hand and guides the tip of his shaft into my opening with the other.

The sensation of fullness comes over me as he slides slowly into my canal. His eyes are on mine as he moves, watching for my response.

“Don’t stop,” I beg. “I’ve never wanted anything so bad.”

God, he’s reduced me to begging. I always swore I’d never do it if I was ever captured. But with Carson? It’s irresistible.

“Me either,” he sighs as he eases himself the rest of the way in. It hurts, oh God, it hurts. But it’s as though Carson knows exactly what I’m experiencing. He knows when to stop, when to drop his mouth to mine, when to absorb as much of my pain as he can.

And when I’m done with pain. When what I want – what I need – is pleasure.

I grip his neck in my arms as he begins to move, slowly, gently. I’m so wet that his girth isn’t a problem. We move in sync with each other, matching each stroke.

“It’s so good,” I moan.

With each movement it gets easier, until Carson is thrusting all the way in each time.

He pushes himself up and leans his weight back until he’s on his knees, his butt on his calves. I let him do what he wants – I trust him to know what’s going to please me.

He reaches down and curves his sculpted arms under my thighs and lifts them until they’re pointing straight at the ceiling, propped against those cannonball shoulders. I feel him ease in even deeper than before.

Now the tip of his cock starts to press against the inside of my pelvic wall and a sensation like a bruise of pleasure overtakes me. That’s the only way I can describe it. It doesn’t sound sexy, but it is. Believe me, it is.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, eyes wide.

He leans forward slightly and we lock gazes once again, staring at each other’s souls as each thrust lands home. Finally I can’t take anymore, and I throw my head back in abandon. My hands grip the fabric of the plush headboard on the wall behind me and I hang on for dear life.

“I can’t hold on any more,” Carson grunts.

My head spins as he picks up speed, pistoning in and out so fast it feels like my body is a machine over which I have no control. A pool of pleasure starts to build its way up from my core like oil into a well.

I feel my abs contract with every stroke, out of my control, almost like I’m doing sit-ups, until I finally abandon all control and just let my body be assaulted by Carson’s powerful thrusts.

“Cassie,” he groans. “Oh baby, It’s so good. You’re so freaking good.”

“Carson,” I pant. “I’ve waited so long. So long.”

And it’s true. Not that it has been so long, though it has. But that I’ve waited. Because it’s only just now that I’m realizing I’ve been waiting for Carson this whole time. I didn’t realize what I was holding out for.

As the spasms take over, I grip his triceps with everything I’ve got. We shudder together once, twice, three times. I lie there gulping in air, trying to stop my eyes from rolling.

Suddenly, Carson wraps his arms around my thighs and grips them together as he drives home one final thrust. I feel like the universe is exploding inside me and around me. We’re as close as two humans can be in a moment, any moment.

We both let loose with guttural growls from deep inside us. Carson’s head drops backwards like an animal howling to the moon, but he stays silent.

God, I hope the rooms in the Regent are soundproofed.

When it’s over, he drops low and covers my body with his. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso, feeling his girth inside me. Our breath mingles into a chorus of gasps as we try to catch our breath.

I burrow my face into Carson’s neck and nibble on the flesh there. I don’t know why; it’s just instinct taking over.

We lie like that for what seems like an eternity as our runaway heart rates slow to normal. Carson caresses me gently, rhythmically, all over. The tingle it elicits makes me feel warm all over. Safe.

Suddenly, from nowhere, the tears start to flow freely, staining my cheeks. I’ve never felt so naked in front of another human being.

“I’m so happy it was you,” I sob into his ear.

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me gently everywhere: my eyes, my cheeks, my lips, my chin, my forehead. When he pulls back, I can see the shimmer of tears in his eyes, too.

“I’ve never believed in God,” he whispers. “But I think I may have just found a compelling argument.”

I stroke his cheek, unable to stop touching him, even for a moment.

Finally, he rolls onto his back and we both shift our bodies around so that we’re lying on the pillows. I put my head in the crook of Carson’s shoulder and lay my arm across the vast expanse of his naked chest. Our sweat mingles and dries in the recycled air of the room.