The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Arrick half carries me, half walks me backwards from the elevator, mouth glued to mine as he kisses me passionately, hands all over me and things getting steamier than they have since Leila’s party. Fingers roaming one another, not looking where we are stumbling and fully focused on making each other as horny as humanly possible without physically putting our hands in each other’s pants. He has my hair all messed up and in my face from running his hand through it, using it to tug my head to one side as he angles in, giving me about the most body curling kiss known to man. His tongue seems to be doing a whole new thing with mine and my insides are going to self-implode with the amount of scorching fizz going off. We bang into a wall, then a table, giggle without breaking our connection and his hand skirts up under my dress to cup my ass and guide me a little more directly into his apartment.

We are both drunk, been pawing and flirting for the last couple of hours when we all moved to a club after bowling and he had me sexy dancing up against him on the dancefloor, grinding saucily and unable to keep his hands from straying. He changed my mood from downhearted and deflated to happy and party-ready, in only one long, slow smooch and flurry of his hands skimming my body in the alley. Ever since then I have been wrapped around his neck, unable to be parted.

The cab ride home was equally steamy as he pinned me against the seat and kissed me relentlessly, libido set loose with the amounts of alcohol we ended up drinking and hands braver than they have been since that party. Arry drunk horny and inhibitions wavering. Things notching up all evening, heading for a complete hormonal explosion and now we’re back at the apartment to carry it further. His hands boldly slide up my thighs while I start opening his shirt buttons, hints at more than a make-out session brewing between us and I’m all for it. There is no doubt, no confusion about the inner stirrings of my body and the way I’m crying out for him to be inside me.

All night, it’s half the reason I drank so much. Dutch courage. My head telling me to just get over this hurdle and give my poor man a girl who actually gives him sex. He clearly needs it after what I listened to, and I don’t want to be another reason he has a less than satisfying life. All night I felt fragile and vulnerable, what with Natasha showing up, the way she kept appearing to try and infiltrate our group and making Arrick a little more toned down in his attentiveness because he doesn’t want to rub it in her face. He let loose when we went to the club and the pent up ‘behaving himself and keeping his hands off me’ ended; he made up for it by barely keeping his hands to himself and I loved it.

He sucks on my bottom lip, running his fingers into my hair so he can angle my face again, lifting me with his other hand, so my legs automatically go around his waist as I straddle him standing. I have no bearings on where we are going, too busy playing tonsil tennis with his mouth, those perfectly soft lips pressed into mine and he tastes so good. Eyes closed tight and lost to what an amazingly good kisser he is. No matter what way he kisses me, it always feels like this and seems to press all my buttons effortlessly, igniting any response he wants from me. My body is on fire with the aching need to have him all over me, skin tingling and head empty of everything except the need to be joined to him in every way possible.

I giggle when I’m dropped on my back on the couch, separated for a second before he is right there on top of me again, nestling between my open legs, warm hands sliding down my calves and pushing my shoes off for me while he recaptures my mouth. His kissing is more on par with that drunken night, a little hint of real Carrero passion coming through and blood most definitely heating up on his end. I love the little hints into what he can be if his real unleashed side gets to play. It’s obvious he holds back with me, always aware of pushing me too far and yet it’s always there, bubbling under the surface like a hot devil wanting to come out to play.

He moves on top of me slowly, taking his weight on his arms as he slides fully against me, moving to my throat with soft grazing kisses. His hand cups my breast through my dress and I close my eyes at the sensual contact. I let my own fingers wander over his chest and shoulders, one hand finding its way down to his hip then over that tight ass, groaning when he nibbles my throat and his pelvis grinds in against me. Waves of lust sweeping from him, yet I know he is holding back, still being gentle and overly cautious and it has the same effect as trying to rein in the ocean.

So far there is nothing but that ache of desire to get him on top of me and lose myself in him. I moan and writhe at how good his hands feel, as one slides under my dress at the thigh, sliding up to my hip where my lace panties lie, stroking my skin deliciously and I mentally urge him to keep going. Pushing, edging for more, yet knowing he is still holding himself in check, fully aware of where he touches me. I want him to unleash that inner animal I know exists. I get hints, more and more as we continue to be together and part of me knows that if he opened and let go then he would probably be more than a competent lover, he will probably blow my mind.

I want my mind blown.

Taking that as a hint that he is open to more than making out, I slide my hand between us, down his now naked abdomen and start pushing lower; kissing him, teasing his lips with my teeth, his mouth entangled with mine.

“Sophie.” He breathes, breaking a hair width apart, catching my hand with his and pulling it from between us, placing it beside my head on the pillow. He moves back to kiss me, but I turn my head in disappointment, so he can’t.

“Why are you stopping me?” I pout woundedly, wanting him to go with what’s happening; relax and let this occur naturally, especially as I very clearly want it.

desire to go any further and I hold my tongue, hoping that I can urge him to change his mind if we keep going. His body is very pointedly indicating he wants it to, I can feel

so he can go back to running his fingers up the outer edge of my thigh and under my dress, edging closer, stroking my skin sexily. He seems lost in the

curve of my cleavage seductively, nibbling gently and getting more than a little aroused against me. I can practically feel his erection trying to burst free from his pants and the way

eruption from within, and it amazes me that even though he isn’t doing anything I can feel one starting. Crazily sensitive down there, either that or he knows just how to touch me without touching me. I wonder if he is doing this deliberately; if this is why

mouth as a reward. I lose any doubts that it is exactly what he’s trying to do. Panting so heavily that I can barely kiss him now, the effort of not having some

Sneaky ass!

inside me to just do it

to back down when this is something, I want more than oxygen. He breaks away to look down at me, gorgeously turned on with dilated pupils,

you. I know you’ll stop if I say no. Stop holding back, it’s frustrating.” I whisper through short inhales into his mouth, kissing him hard and slipping my tongue over his so that he can’t talk, getting lost in this and urging

moment, so many thoughts and emotions passing over his face as he lightly draws patterns on my skin with his finger. I can almost taste his turmoil,

to hesitate, assessing me me for a moment even though

been holding back. Hot kissing to scorching kissing in a flash as he lets go a little, his groin meeting mine harder as euphoric heat starts enveloping me at a faster speed that makes me literally tense and move higher up the couch in reaction with a gasp. My mouth is a whole new plaything for him, lip sucking, tongue caressing and generally making every part of me combust with that hidden skill. A talent he has been keeping from me until now. I’m literally

to my upper body without leaning on his arms. He pushes my dress up to my bra to expose it fully, still tasting me, then my jaw and neck, grinding against me, igniting a switch

has his eye on the goal. He slides his hands under my butt, under between us to the outer edge of my lace underwear. His mouth

in the way he

he slides his hand lower and into my underwear slowly. Watching me with obvious concentration and a hint of wariness as I hold my breath in anticipation. Watching his eyes moving from mine to my mouth and back as his fingers slide down over their target making me flinch with pleasure. My lips part with a

my responses and making me squirm wildly. His breathing becomes more labored as his pupils dilate. He seems to watch for any sign of rejection, seeing only my inability to withstand how good this feels as I close my eyes, bite on my bottom lip and squirm about in sheer ecstasy at his massaging touch. His mouth finds mine again, tongue in as he slides his fingers under the edge of the fabric and inside of me so slowly it’s almost torture. I moan out as he penetrates me, panting, overwhelmed at how amazingly

drives me wild with the intensity

raising my body temperature and heart rate to explosive levels and the building crescendo and fireworks are so close to erupting. I can barely hold myself together and arch crazily as my body is gripped with need. Almost on