“No!” Carter shouts.
The neighbor knocks on the wall and I yell, “Sorry!” Glaring at Carter, I snap, “This is done. Send me the paperwork and we can pretend this never happened. Should be easy for you. You’re good at pretending.” I know it’s a low blow, but I’m too mad to care.
I don’t blink, but I don’t see him move. Regardless, I’m suddenly pressed against the counter, immoveable in Carter’s grip, with him in my face. “This is not done. It’ll never be done.”
“What?”
I don’t get to finish my question because Carter kisses me. His touch is powerful, his lips firm and his tongue demanding entry. I squirm, trying to get away, but he moans, and I’d swear it sounds like my name, but that doesn’t make sense. This whole thing makes no sense.
He determinedly dances me down the hall, his unyielding mouth on mine the whole way. “It’s real,” he murmurs, laying a line of kisses along my jaw to my ear. “I don’t know when, and I don’t fucking care. But this. Is. Real.”
“No, it’s not,” I argue, but unconsciously, I tilt my head to give him better access.
He bites the tendon in my neck sharply, not enough to hurt but to get my attention, and I gasp. “You like that, don’t you?”
I shake my head despite the heat pooling at my center. I feel Carter’s chuckle more than hear it, the vibration making my heart race.
“Yes, you do. If I touch you right now, you’ll be soaked for me, won’t you?”
My body’s response to him is nothing more than a biological response. How many times have I told myself that to keep my heart protected? But I know . . . it’s not true. But just because my heart and my body are stupid doesn’t mean I have to be, and their betrayal only makes me angrier. “Let me go, Carter,” I command.
He smirks and releases me, except I didn’t realize that he’d stepped me into my room, right up to the edge of my bed, and when he lets go, I fall back to the soft surface. I make a noise of surprise and scowl at him accusingly.
He steps between my legs and leans over me, his fingertips denting the mattress. At first, I lean back, trying to stay away from him, but when I see a teasing glint in his eyes, I freeze, stubbornly holding my ground. I expect him to stop too, but he doesn’t. He covers my mouth with his again.
I stay still, but after a moment, I can’t fight it. I kiss him back, demanding more. “I hate you,” I growl into the kiss and then nip his lip with my teeth, knowing it’s too hard but wanting to hurt him. “I hate you.”
Unfazed, he shrugs. “I love you,” Carter says as his hands cup my breasts. I laugh at the absurdity of that, and he pinches my nipples as punishment. Even through my shirt, the pain is sharp and . . . wonderful. I arch into his hands and he does it again. “I love you.”
“You don’t.” I don’t know why he’s saying he loves me when there’s no way it’s true. Has he forgotten the truth of this whole situation? It’s all for his deal.
We don’t even like each other.
Well, I do like what he does to my body. The way he’s sucking my nipples. He’s pushed me back to the bed, pulled my shirt off, and is licking a long line along my cleavage as he holds my breasts together, and I definitely like that.
But I hate him . . . why was that again?
Oh, yeah, the lies. And when I told the truth . . .
“You left me.”
“You left me first. Blew up my whole fucking world with that mouth of yours and then called Zack to come get you.” He looms over me, pinning me in my place with his hand twisted up in my hair and a stony stare that reaches into my soul. “You left me first.”
I try to shake my head, but it pulls my hair and I wince. Carter doesn’t let go. Instead, he places his other hand around my neck and gets nose to nose with me as he squeezes. “I might’ve gotten us into this, but you made me fall in love with you, and now there’s no going back, Luna. You’re my wife, and that’s fucking real.”
“No, I . . .”
I’m so confused. I mean, I know Carter and I are married for real, as in we said vows, but it was all for the Cartwright deal, not so that we’d actually be married. We’re too different and make no sense together. He’s too old, I’m too young. He’s too money-hungry, I’m too artsy. He’s my brother’s gorgeous best friend, I’m . . . me.
All arguments I’ve told myself a dozen times, but none of that seems to matter to Carter as he’s ripping my sweats off, panties and all, and thrusting two fingers deep inside me. “Ahh!” I cry out, not in pain but in pleasure. “Carter!”
“Told you. Fucking soaked for me. Your husband.”
“I hate you,” I say again, but this time, there’s no venom.
Carter knows exactly why I say it too. “I’ll tell you as many times as you want. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Every time he says it, he pets that spot inside me that drives me to the edge near-instantly. I buck, not fighting him off but driving myself deeper onto his fingers, and touch my clit with my own fingers.
“God damn, that’s so sexy. Rub that clit, hard and fast.” That’s already what I’m doing, but he praises me anyway. “Good girl.”
A shudder rushes through me, and I feel my nipples pearl up into hard nubs. I’m burning up, but the cold of the room hurts the sensitive peaks. Carter notices and grips my breast firmly, kneading the flesh in his warm palm. “I shouldn’t let you come for what you did. I should edge you over and over until you’re sorry for leaving me.”
I cry out at the idea, so close to coming already.
“But I won’t.” His fingers slam into me deep and hard. “This is my fault, and I’m sorry.” Another stroke, adding a third finger and stretching me deliciously.
I’m going to be bruised and sore tomorrow, but right now, I want him to do it again, so I say the one thing I know for certain will make that happen.
I peer at him through half-glazed eyes and force out, “I hate you.”
I see the half-smirk that lifts the right side of his mouth. And then he licks his lips and rapid-fire plunges his fingers into me, over and over. “I love you, Luna Harrington. My wife. Now come for your husband.”
For him . . . for Carter freaking Harrington. I fly. Sparkles rush through me, or maybe I am sparkles? I don’t know. I just feel like champagne as I soar through the blackness behind my eyes.
I hear a roaring in my ears and think it’s my own heartbeat, but as I float back to consciousness, I realize that it’s Carter. He’s still fingering me so roughly that his knuckles are starting to hurt against my tender parts, but he’s yanked his own pants open and he’s mindlessly coming all over me as he jacks himself furiously.
His head is thrown back, the tendons at the sides of his neck standing out sharply, and his face is contorted with pleasure. The heat of his cum is hot on my skin, and instead of rubbing my clit now, I swipe my fingers through the fluid, spreading it over my bare pussy and up to my lower belly. “Cover me. Mark me . . . husband.”
His head drops, his eyes open and clear as he finds me. I can see what he needs, but I’m still scared to believe him.