I’ll Always Be With You (Lancaster Prep Book 4)

I CURL my hands into fists, keeping them in my pockets, so I don’t do something crazy like reach for her, scare the shit out of her and have her running from me.

I can’t risk it. Not now. Not after what happened in the janitor’s closet.

Hottest moment of my life. All I ever seem to do is finger-fuck this girl in ridiculous locations, and it only makes me want her more. She’s never really touched me. She’s never even said anything to indicate that she wants me. Yet, here I am, desperate for her. Desperate to touch her, kiss her, strip her of what little clothing she’s wearing and feast on her. I want to fuck her pussy with my tongue and my cock, my gaze never straying from her face as I make her come over and over again. I want to pin her to the ground and force feed my dick into that lush mouth of hers, until she’s choking on it, tears streaming from her eyes. I want to humiliate her and fuck her and mark her and make her mine.

It’s the strangest fucking thing.

She’s strange. I can’t deny it. I can’t even describe her as classically beautiful. She’s so thin and wiry, nothing but muscle and skin and bone. Her hair is a bright blonde, when I’ve mostly been drawn to brunettes, and she’s pale, her skin nearly translucent. I can see the veins in her skin now, the faintest pink and blue, her chest rising and expanding as she breathes heavily, those pillowy lips parting as she stares at me, her tongue sneaking out to lick at the corner.

Jesus.

Mentally, she’s probably completely unstable, but guess what? We all are. I’m hanging on by a thread most days, always filled with an inexplicable rage I can’t quite pinpoint on why exactly I feel that way.

I just do.

“Do you dance every day?” I ask, needing to change the subject. We shouldn’t get into all the reasons Carolina Lancaster avoids physical touch and enjoys pain. That subject is far too complex for this Monday afternoon.

“I try.”

“Do you want to dance right now?”

She slowly shakes her head, her hair sliding over her pale shoulders. She wore it down today, which is rare, and it smells so fucking good. I had to restrain myself earlier from burying my face in it when we were in that damn closet.

I glance around, spotting the chair with the small speaker on it and I go to it, setting the speaker on the floor before I settle in. I spread my legs wide and pat my thigh. “Come here.”

Carolina glides toward me, and when she gets closer, I can see that she’s visibly shaking. Is she scared? Or just excited?

“Sit down.” I point at my thigh and she does as I ask, perching her skinny ass on my leg, her posture stiff, her back ramrod straight. She weighs barely anything and I don’t touch her. Not yet.

She rests her hands in her lap, her head bent, her gaze downcast and I observe her, letting my gaze roam over her, restraining myself from what I really want to do.

Run my mouth down the length of her elegant neck. Lick at her ear. Bite it. Push the strap of her sports bra off her shoulder, slowly exposing her to me.

My cock swells and I shift my position, Carolina slipping closer, her hand coming out to brace herself against my chest. She lifts her head, her gaze meeting mine and I see fear in her gaze. Fear mixed with curiosity and something else. Something unnamed.

I keep my hands at my sides while she slides her hand up my chest, her fingers toying with the knot in my tie, tugging on it, loosening it from around my neck. I still don’t touch her, letting her completely undo the tie. She wraps it around her wrist, tying it around and around, a little smile playing upon her lips.

“I want to keep this.”

“It’s yours.”

Her gaze meets mine. “Do you give up your possessions this easily all the time?”

I slowly shake my head. “Never.”

“Are you saying I’m special?”

Giving in, I lean in so my face is in hers, my gaze serious as I murmur, “Yes.”

She tips her chin up, our lips brushing. Clinging. Before I can do anything more, she withdraws, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, her hand at my throat once more, her fingers slipping over the buttons of my shirt, undoing one. Then another. She keeps her gaze trained on my neck, swallowing hard as she exposes me, her fingers brushing over my chest. My ribs. My stomach. Until every button is undone and my shirt is completely open.

“I’ve touched my dancing partners before, but never like this,” she admits, her fingers hovering above my stomach.

Every muscle is strung tight, the anticipation of her hands landing on my skin once more, nearly undoing me. “How do you want to touch me?”

Her gaze never straying from my chest, she reaches out, tentative fingers settling on my stomach. The muscles ripple beneath her fingertips, my entire body shaking in relief, and she traces her fingers up, streaking across my ribs. Down the center of my belly.

“You’re firm.”

“I told you I was an athlete.”

“Track.” She rolls her eyes, amused.

“That counts.”

“I know.” Her gaze meets mine. “It shows.”

She becomes bolder as she continues to touch me, and still, I don’t touch her in return, afraid I might scare her off, desperate to see what she does next. When she curls her fingers around the waistband of my trousers, I bite my lip, stifling my groan when her knuckles brush the flesh just above my boxer briefs.

I feel like I could come in my pants at any second and all she’s doing is touching me in a mostly nonsexual manner.

This is fucking torture.

“Are you hating this?” she asks, her shaky fingers fumbling with the button of my trousers.

“Not at all.” My voice is strained, my mind growing hazier when she undoes the zipper. White hot anticipation flows through my veins, leaving me weak. Something I never feel when it comes to sex.

“I want to see you.” She scrambles off my lap, the disappointment crushing, though it immediately disappears when she settles in front of me on her knees, both hands on the front of my trousers, spreading the fabric wide, tugging at the waistband like she wants them off.

I toe off my shoes and lift my hips, letting her take my pants off, until I’m sitting there with my shirt undone and my dick straining against the front of my charcoal gray boxer briefs, my heart pounding so fucking hard I can’t help but wonder if she hears it.

She stares at my erection, her eyes wide, just before she reaches out with her index finger and traces the length. My dick jumps beneath her touch, twitching, and she blinks, her gaze lifting to mine.

“It wants what it wants.” I shrug, trying to make light of the moment.

“What does it want?” She gulps. “Me?”

“Yeah,” I rasp.

Carolina cups me fully, her fingers coming around my length, her touch gentle. I want to tell her to squeeze it, grip it harder, but I keep my mouth shut.

I’m doing this on Carolina’s terms. Letting her come to her own conclusions, go at her own pace. To push her would be a mistake.

I’m not putting anything at risk. Not today.

“You’re hard.” Her gaze drops to my dick. “And big.”

My cock jerks beneath her touch and she’s about to snatch her hand back, but I’m quicker than her, settling her hand on top of me with mine covering hers. “Grab it. Don’t be shy.”

She wraps her fingers around me, over the cotton, and I shake my head, lifting her hand with mine, sliding them both beneath my boxers. Until she’s touching my bare flesh.

A shuddery exhale leaves my lungs when her fingers grip me, her gaze stuck on watching her hand beneath the gray cotton. She begins to stroke, her movements jerky at first, until she finds a rhythm.

Jesus, that feels good.

“Take these off,” I demand, tugging at my boxer briefs, and she’s scrambling, pulling them off, until my bare ass hits the chair and my boxers are crumpled around my ankles.

If anyone were to come in and catch us, there would be hell to pay. Shit, anyone could walk by the giant windows and see us like this. But I don’t give a damn.

Can’t worry about it. Not with Carolina’s fingers wrapped tight around my dick, stroking me, slowly but surely.

“You’re soft, yet hard,” she marvels, squeezing the top of my cock until a bead of liquid appears in the slit. “Are you already coming?”

I bark out a laugh. “Not quite. Pretty sure you’d be aware of it when it happens.”

Her cheeks color with embarrassment and her hold loosens, like she’s going to slip away. I slap my hand over hers once again, keeping her right where I want her. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Carolina.”

She presses her lips together, swallowing hard before she whispers, “Can I lick it?”

Holy shit. Like I’d say no.

I nod, unsure if I can even speak.

Rising up, she leans over my lap, darting her tongue out to lick the tip of my dick, lapping up the liquid that was there. She licks again and again, her tongue soft and delicate, as if she’s eating an ice cream cone on a hot summer day and when I’m just about to beg her to stop, she wraps those delectable lips of hers around the head of my cock and draws it into her warm, wet mouth.

“Fuck,” I bite out, unable to tear my gaze away from the visual of my cock sliding between Carolina’s lips.

She removes me from her mouth with an audible pop, frowning. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“You could never do this wrong,” I say vehemently. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Her siren smile is a revelation, and I wonder if this is the moment she realizes the power she has over me.

I know it’s the moment I realize the power she wields.

And I’m too fucking gone over her to worry about it.

She remains on her knees, her hand coming up to grip the base of my cock as she continues to lick and suck. I let her play with me for a while, sliding my fingers into her soft hair, careful not to get the strands tangled in my watch band. Exerting a little pressure to indicate I want her to take me deeper. She bids my silent request, a moan leaving her when she sucks me deeper. Harder. The vibrations of her mouth make my balls draw up tight and that familiar tingling starts at the base of my spine.

It’s not going to take much and I’ll be coming. I’m fucking sweating just thinking about it, restraining myself, desperate to regain control of the situation.

“Stop,” I demand, and she automatically removes me from her mouth, frowning. “Keep your lips open for me.”

She parts her lips wide and I lift my hips, sliding my dick in between them before I pull back out. She lowers her head, following after me, her hand resting on my thigh, her other hand circling the base of my cock, and I fuck her mouth, my hand coming up to hold the back of her head.

Keeping her in place.

Her eyes are watering, just like I imagined, as I push inside her so deep, I bump the back of her throat. I fuck her hard, grunting with every thrust, my hips bucking, her fingers digging into my thigh, cutting into my skin. The prickle of pain is strong, immediately wiped out by the sensation of my orgasm sweeping through me, taking over until I’m a shuddering, groaning mess.

She doesn’t move away as I feel that first blast of semen hit the back of her throat. She swallows it down, every fucking bit, and when it’s finally over and my chest aches, she finally removes me from her mouth and wipes the back of her hand across her lips, leaning back on her haunches.

“That was a lot.”

I frown at her, my chest heaving. “What do you mean?”

“All of the—semen.” Her cheeks are pink and she rubs at the corner of her mouth with her finger. “More than I expected.”

“Yet you swallowed it all.”

“I thought I was supposed to.” She frowns. “Was I not supposed to?”

Damn. This girl.

She is unlike anyone I’ve ever known.