37. Carter

Chapter 37

Carter

T he half an hour we’ve spent at the dining table would be in the top two most excruciating experiences of my life, second only to the broken wrist all those years ago.?

With each mouthful of her dinner, Lara’s been eliciting a sound that reverberates down to my bones. They started out innocently enough, to the point where she didn’t even realise what she was doing. It wasn’t until I had a knee-jerk reaction the third or fourth time that Lara noticed the effect her little noises were having. My knee colliding with the underside of the table caught her attention, a wicked grin drawing across her glossed lips at the look I’m sure was etched into my face.

From that moment on, it only got worse. I’ve never regretted a meal so deeply. I’ll never again be able to eat chicken cacciatore in peace; it will always be accompanied by Lara’s moans. And it’s for this exact reason I decide it’s time the tables are turned as I catch Lara assessing the lilies in the centre of the table for the third time in as many minutes.

Clearing my throat, I point my knife toward the vase that belonged to my great-grandparents. “Do you have a problem with the lilies?”

Lara’s head snaps in my direction, utensils motionless above her plate. She begins tapping her pointer finger against her fork, her eyes searching mine for context. Unfortunately for Lara, I’m not giving it away that easily.

“No, I do not have a problem with them, I just think they’re a bit much for ‘not a date’.”

“I’m flattered you think I’d go to the effort, but I’m afraid they were a gift from my niece. I’m well aware this isn’t a date; you’ve made that quite clear.”

The way Lara’s mouth drops open for the briefest of moments before she slams it shut shows I’ve won this round. If she’s so hellbent on this not being a date, who am I to disagree?

“How’s your meal?” I ask, popping the last spoonful of cacciatore into my mouth.

“It’s quite lovely, but I’m sure you know that. And yours?”

I nod, finishing off the mouthful. “This used to be my favourite meal.”

Lara looks at me quizzically. “You cooked me your old favourite meal rather than your current one?” When I nod, she asks, “Why?”?

“Because my new favourite meal is sitting across the table from me.”

From where I sit, I have the perfect vantage point for witnessing the exact moment Lara’s pupils dilate, my admission hanging in the air between us. She visibly gulps down her mouthful, avoiding my gaze as a pink hue spreads across the bridge of her nose and onto her cheeks.?

I lean forward and rest my elbows on either side of my empty plate, steepling my forefingers beneath my chin. There’s something about the way Lara reacts that has me wanting to test the boundaries. “I can’t wait to see what it’s wrapped in beneath those trousers. Red lace? Perhaps black? Enlighten me.”

Initially, I’m met with silence. Lara’s focus is entirely on the remnants of her dinner. I wait, my patience thinning by the second as she finishes. Her utensils are placed ever so gently upon her plate before she meets my gaze—flames crackling in the iciest of blues.

“Why don’t you come over here and find out for yourself? Remind me how good you look on your knees.”

Fuck. Me.

Apparently my dick heard her as well, if the way it immediately hardens is anything to go by. This is not going to plan. Teddy would be pissed if he were to find out I completely threw out the fool-proof plan we spent the better part of an hour formulating.

Rule 1. Keep it in your pants at the dinner table.

In my defence, I technically haven’t gone off track. Yet. But the desire to get on my knees and fucking crawl to the vixen across from me is increasingly hard to fight.

Snap out of it, Carter; you’re no better than a horny teenage boy right now.

The corner of my lip pulls up into a half-smirk, causing the smug expression on Lara’s face to falter. “Considering you’ve given a grown man the urge to get on his knees and crawl to you, I think it’s time we take this elsewhere.”

There. Kept it ‘in my pants’ and I was open and honest about my feelings. I think Teddy would be proud, so that’s a win.

Leaving no time for her to argue or deliberate, I stand, round the table and hold a hand out for Lara, silently willing her to take it. She places her hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. “I think having you crawl to me would be rather enjoyable, don’t you?”

I lead us away from the dining room and down the hallway to my bedroom. Opening the door, I stand aside and motion for Lara to enter. “Perhaps we’ll find out one day.”

“Ever the gentleman,” she whispers in my ear, her voice laced with her particular tone of sass as she glides past me. I take that as the perfect opportunity to smack her arse. Her answering yelp brings a smile to my face.?

Following Lara, I close the door behind me and reach out to grab her by the waist, turning her and pushing her against the door with a little more force than anticipated.

“Allow me to show you how ungentlemanly I can be, Miss Matthews.” Lara’s eyes connect with mine, and I can almost see the heat rising in them. Her brows raise, urging me to proceed. Christ, she’s a dream.

“You are breathtaking in this outfit,” I whisper hoarsely into her ear, running a hand down the deep V of her blouse. Her skin prickles beneath my touch, my fingertips drawing patterns across the bare skin of her chest. “But I’d much prefer it lying on my floor.” I waste no time in delving my hand down the front of her trousers.?

Lara rests her head against the back of the door, lips parted slightly, and I know this is my cue. My body moves closer to her of its own accord, and I trace a finger over her lace underwear right above her clit.

“Carter,” she breathes, her voice nothing but a whisper.?

“Yes, love?”?

“Don’t be a tease.” It amazes me how she manages to retain her tone with my hand down her pants. Focusing on her breathing, I pull Lara’s underwear to the side and languidly run two fingers the length of her pussy. Her breath hitches.

With each stroke, Lara becomes more aroused, and my fingers move with more ease. But I know she’s beginning to get antsy. On the next stroke down, I slide one finger inside her, stopping only when I can’t push any deeper. Lara clenches involuntarily, and a whimper escapes her mouth.

“Fuck, you always feel incredible,” I muse, sliding my finger in and out of her at a torturous speed. Watching her slowly unravel in my hands has become my new favourite thing. My lips find her skin, planting chaste kisses at the hollow of her neck and out along her collarbones.

Lara’s heart rate quickens beneath my mouth. I slide my finger out, only to replace it with two on the next pump. The extra width startles her, the tightening of her walls rewarding me. My thumb finds her clit, and I apply the slightest pressure—exactly how I’ve come to learn she likes it. Her answering moan signifies the angle is just right.

“Oh, god.” Her voice is unrecognisable beneath the weight of her arousal. Wanting to draw this out as long as possible, I withdraw my fingers from her pussy. Removing my hand from her trousers, I gaze down at Lara. Eyes hooded with desire, her irises are almost invisible. The scarcely audible whine tells me I wasn’t the only one enjoying that.

Without breaking eye contact, I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck. “You taste like pure sin.” I give my fingers one last lick as I remove them from my mouth.

Somehow Lara’s eyes grow even darker, her eyebrows pulling together ever so slightly. “Holy shit. That was hot.” Lara says breathily, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink as she squirms under my gaze.

Adorable, Carter, really? Get a grip. They’re just cheeks.