Her Lullaby

40- Want

I try to stop myself from smiling at his adorableness as a blush faintly paints over his cheeks, "And cuddling isn't enough." My amusement was evident in my tone.

One of his hand rubs down the back of my thigh, "No, I need your skin on mine."

"Carver, we're on a plane!"

He shrugs carelessly, his hand hooking around my waist and pulling me into his lap, "There is no one else here but us and the pilot, and he has his orders."

My back was pressed against his front as his warm hand slips under my shirt gently rubbing over the pudge of my stomach, the tip of his fingers even peeking under the waist back of my pajama shorts.

"Carter." It was a warning as his hands began to explore my body, his fingertips leaving a trail of fire as they caress my breast, and squeeze them in his palm.

My head rest on his shoulder as his lips latch onto the side of my neck, and I relax against him.

It was alarming how someone could change my mood from being carefree and amused to having shallow breaths and wanting to take every inch of clothing off, but it was Carter and he has me in a chokehold.

"Carter." I repeat again, more breathless, as one of his hands passes the waistband of my shorts, while the thumb of the other hand brushes over my harden nipple.

"Tell me to stop." His voice was like a withering rope tied around something heavy as it hangs off a cliff. His restraint is seconds from breaking as he waits for my response, yet his fingers were already rubbing my clit over the cloth of my underwear.

I couldn't will my tongue to move and pronounce the four lettered word. I didn't want to. I was already sinking into him with my body relaxed against him, and my mind drowning in the senses of him too.

"Ivy." Low and gruff; my name was sweet to my ears.

"Don't stop." I speak up, my voice sounding meek, as I spread my legs.

The only reply I had gotten from him was the movement of his fingers slipping underneath the fabric of my underwear, and making contact with my clit.

A shudder runs up my doing as his fingers draw light circles on my clit.

I look to him as I lift my hand, tangling my fingers into his strands, and pulling his head closer to mine so our lips touch.

My hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers with greed, the movements begging for more to put an end to the slow circles. I want more.

"Patience." He chuckles against my parted lips,

"I don't have any." I breath.

"I thought I was the impatient one here." He press a kiss of amusement on my lips as I hold back a groan of annoyance.

"Carter." I said, displeased, rolling my hips.

"Girasole." He whispered tenderly, with a tone I could only wonder what he'd do next.

"If you won't I'll do it my—"

He interrupts me by sinking two fingers in me and forcing a gasp out of me.

His fingers draw and in out of me with a leisured motion as he took his time with his lips pressing against my jaw.

A moan slips pass my lips as he increases the pace of his fingers.

When his fingers curl inside of me it felt as if their was a knot tangled tightly in the bottom of my stomach, and the only person who could unravel it was him.

"Fuck, Carter, don't stop." My hands wrap tightly around his arm as my back arches off of his chest.

One of his hands still teases my breast, twisting the nipple between his fingers, and groping the flesh into the palm of his hand.