I shift in him, just enough to test him, to make sure last night wasn’t a fluke, and I don’t miss the way his hands tighten around my waist, the way his chest rises a little faster, the way his breath stutters when my hips brush over the very obvious evidence of just how much he fucking wants me.

Still, he doesn’t move first. He just, waits. Watches me. Drinks me in like I’m the only thing in the world worth looking at.

I run my fingers along the edge of his jaw, tilting his chin slightly, letting my thumb graze over his bottom lip, teasing, watching his eyes darken just a little more as I press forward, our mouths so close now, barely a breath between them.

“You like this, don’t you?” I murmur, barely brushing my lips over his. “Being told what to do.”

Carter’s body jerks just slightly beneath me, a sharp inhale, his grip flexing against my back before he forces himself still again. But his voice? Fuck, his voice is already unraveling.

“Yeah.”

I smile, dragging my nails lightly down the back of his neck, his breath coming out in a soft, strangled sound. “You want me to take my time with you, don’t you?”

His head tips back slightly, exposing the strong line of his throat, his pulse pounding there, his lashes fluttering, his hands gripping my thighs now, his voice nothing but a low rasp. “Fuck, Haven…”

I hum, my lips barely grazing his jaw, my fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt, dragging my nails across his stomach, teasing over the muscles there. “Say it.”

Carter’s hands grip tighter, his hips pressing up against me like he can’t stop himself, like he’s barely hanging on, and when he finally speaks, his voice is nothing but a rough, broken plea. “Fuck… yes. I want you to take your time. I want you to ruin me, break me. I’m all yours Haven.”

Beneath me, against me, pressing harder, thick and undeniable, straining beneath his sweatpants. The way his body reacts to mine, the way I barely have to do anything, just shift the slightest bit, just let my breath graze his skin, just drag my nails a little lower, and he’s unraveling, gripping me tighter, struggling to stay still.

That’s just it, he’s trying. Trying so fucking hard to be patient, to let me lead, to let me take whatever I want at my own pace, but I can feel it. The control crumbling, and I want to watch it all fucking snap.

I press forward just slightly, letting my hips roll against him in the subtlest movement, but the effect is immediate, his hands flying up to grip my waist, holding me still, like if I do it again, he’ll completely lose himself.