Unconditional

Garrett snaps his head back around. “What? Carina, no—”

“Yes.” I cut him off. “You don’t get it. I’m not broken!” I cry. “I’m not some empty shell of a girl trying to block out the past. This isn’t about Alexander, or what happened with him. This is about me, kissing you, wanting you.”

Garrett sucks in a ragged breath. He shakes his head, like he’s trying to shake away my words. “You say that, but you’re hurting. You need time to heal.”

“What I need is for you to trust me!” I yell, anger coursing through me, sharper than desire but just as potent. What can I do to make him see? “He hit me. My fiancé hit me. It was one moment in my life, but you’re acting like it’s all I am now.” I stalk towards him, furious. “I won’t let it define me, do you understand? I didn’t choose it, it happened to me, and now every time I try and move on—to do something I choose—you push me away and act like you know best. I’m the only one who gets to make that call,” I insist, my breath coming fast. “I get to say what I want, and I want you!”

Garrett’s jaw clenches. His eyes search mine, dark and wild, and filled with a new burning hope. “You’re sure?” he breathes, ragged.

“Yes, I’m sure!” I cry, “I want you! God, the only thing I want in the world right now is for you to f**k my brains out, so would you please—”

He doesn’t let me finish. With a low groan, Garrett grabs me, spinning us around and crashing me back against the wall. His kiss is hard and hot, branding me, demanding everything my body has only dreamed of.

Yes!

I let out a moan of relief, clutching at his body, at the gorgeous hard muscle of him. This time, there’s no holding back. Garrett bucks against me and I claw his shirt over his head, gasping at the feel of his na**d skin against mine, his chest crushing against my tender br**sts. He tangles his fingers in my hair, yanking my head back, kissing and sucking at my neck as I scrabble for his belt. God…I’m falling again, quicksilver racing through my veins at his touch, urgent and intoxicating. The metal buckle finally gives way under my clumsy fingers and I shove his jeans down, yanking his briefs after them so there’s nothing between us anymore, just the hot friction of his body and the feel of him, hard and engorged in my hands.

“Fuck!” Garrett gasps, shuddering against my neck as I close my fingers around him, loving the way his body rises to me. “God, Carina…”

I stroke again, harder.

Garrett lets out a fierce growl, and then he’s gripping my ass, lifting me up and pinning me back against the wall with a crash. I gasp, clinging to him as he wraps my legs around his waist, spreading me wide, then slams into me with one swift thrust.

Fuck!

I cry out, feeling him stretch me, plunging deep inside. He pulls back, then thrusts again with a savage cry, harder this time, so deep I lose my breath, lose my mind, lose everything except the sharp thrust of his body, hitting just right, so right, there.

I cry out, whimpering, arching up against him, matching the plunge of his body beat for beat, my nails digging into his back, his mouth biting down on my shoulder. Garrett lifts his head to lock eyes with mine, grabbing hold of my jaw, forcing me in place. I stare back, helpless, wordless, drowning in the torrid crash of our bodies and the white-hot pleasure sparking through me with every thrust. We gasp for air, united in our desperate abandon, soaring, soaring in the hungry dark of his eyes, and the whimpers that slip, unbidden, from my lips as his arms pin me back and his c**k drives into me, relentless.

“Garrett!” I cry, feeling the heat rise in me again. “Oh God, don’t stop.”

“Never.” He slams me back again, pivoting his h*ps this time to send the pleasure coursing through me, inside and out. God. I gasp, lost in the rhythm, hurtling to the edge again, so fast I can’t even hold back, can’t stop for a second before my body shatters in his arms again. I’m dizzy, fire in my veins, the explosion still shuddering through me when Garrett turns and carries me over to the couch.

He sets me down roughly, my legs so weak they give way. I cling to him as his hands rove across my body. “God, your ass is a miracle,” Garrett groans, reaching to squeeze the round globes. His face flashes with a dark hunger I’ve never seen. In one swift movement, he spins me to face away from him, bracing one arm under my stomach as he bends me roughly over the side of the couch.

A new thrill rushes through me. My face tips forward, pressing into the cushions. I can’t see him, but oh, I feel his hands on me, hot and possessive, palming my br**sts from behind, squeezing at my ni**les, rough as he grips my h*ps and yanks them back, positioning me.

I brace myself for the hard slam of his body. Instead, he slides into me slowly, inch by gorgeous inch.

Fuck.

This is a new kind of madness, a different aching pull. He thrusts slow, too shallow, then withdraws again, leaving me aching and bereft. I need him, more than I can stand; his breath comes in ragged gasps behind me, his body hot where we join. He enters me again slowly, then pumps hard, slamming me down into the couch.

Yes!

I thrust my h*ps back, trying to drive him deeper again, but Garrett’s fingers dig into my hips, controlling the pace completely, sliding into me slowly, over and over again.

I let out a choked sob, muffled by the cushions. God, I can’t take this, I’m strung out, my body wracked tight with tension, and all the while, Garrett is relentless, tormenting me, dipping a few inches inside and then sliding back, thrusting deep then withdrawing.