The Natural History of Us (The Fine Art of Pretending #2)

Lust surged like a freaking missile, ready to launch me right off the bed, and I fisted my hands in my lap in a desperate attempt to keep from grabbing her hips.

I’d been selfish my entire life. Shit, I was a Carter, that’s what we did. It was our legacy. I did what felt good, said screw it to the consequences, and took whatever I wanted. Regardless of the fallout. But Peyton deserved better than that. She deserved better than me.

“I want to… God, you’ve got to know I want to,” I said throatily. I licked my lips and pleaded with her to understand. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Your first time should be with someone special. Not some pathetic shmuck his own parents don’t want.”

I couldn’t believe what I was doing—I was telling the girl of my dreams no, when everything in me screamed yes—but it was the right thing to do. I knew it was, and so help me, I would do right by Peyton. Even if it killed me.

A pained sound left my throat and my hand shot out without permission, grasping the curve of her hip. I was weak, but I could give myself that much. That one touch. Her skin felt like heaven and my fingertips dug in, trying to keep it at just this.

But Peyton had other plans.

Wrapping her hand around mine, she guided it higher until it lay flush against the petal-soft skin of her stomach and said, “The only way you’ll hurt me, Carter, is if you say no.”

I shuddered, fighting the desire to give in to what we both wanted, and she moved closer, close enough that if I leaned forward, I could kiss a path across the underside of her breasts.

“This feels right,” she whispered, her long fingers sliding through my hair. Her nails raked over my scalp and a shiver traveled the length of my body. “Don’t you think it feels right? I don’t want anyone else, Justin. I know you’ll make it incredible. I trust you, and I want my first time to be with someone I—”

She cut off abruptly and my gaze shot to hers.

Distantly, I heard an internal warning bell, an alarm sounding trouble ahead. But then she was kissing me… and I thought, fuck the bell.

Every good intention I’d had flew out the window when her hands landed on me. If Peyton was sure she wanted this, wanted me, then I was hers for the taking.

Grabbing her hips, I spun us around until she was lying below me on the bed, her hair a cascade of gold across my pillow. She was so gorgeous my chest ached. I took a mental picture, wanting to remember this night, the look in her eyes when she looked at me lying over her, forever. She reached out and trailed a gentle finger down my cheek. Her mouth tilted in a smile and I took it in a kiss.

I threw everything I had into the kiss. Every pent-up frustration, every secret longing, every hidden fear. I was shit with words in person. Without a notebook, I couldn’t express myself worth a damn. But I could show Peyton how I felt. How crazy she made me. How amazing she truly was.

My lips trailed downward, sucking at the tender skin below her chin, and she tossed her head back in a moan.

“Justin.” I grinned against her neck, loving the sound of my name on her lips.

I let my wandering hands get their fill. Her gentle curves fit them like a dream, and I relished the feel of her bare skin. Where I was hard, she was silk. I’d never get enough. I could count on three fingers the times in my life I’d felt worthy of affection—my grandmother telling me on her death bed that she was proud of me, newborn Chase wrapping his tiny fist around my finger, and this moment, with Peyton giving me everything she had to give. I never wanted to leave this bed.

Beneath me, Peyton grew restless. Her leg hooked around my hip and her mouth sucked at my neck. When her tentative hands reached down to touch me, a fire set loose in my blood.

Soon, my shorts were gone. They were lost in a blur of eager hands and seeking mouths. I did my best to prep her, my trembling hands finding her and making her squirm. In this way, my past was useful. I knew how to get a girl off with my fingers. Earning their sated smiles momentarily eased the loneliness I always carried within me. But it never lasted. The void always came back.

It wasn’t until Peyton clutched my shoulders, her head thrown back in a scream, that I entered her. Her wide eyes squeezed shut on a wince.

I instantly stilled. “Baby, you okay?”

I held my breath, held my muscles tight, ignoring how incredible she felt. How complete I felt. In that moment, all that mattered was that she was there with me, still wanting me with no regrets. I swallowed hard and waited, hoping like hell that was the case.

“I’m good,” she croaked, eyes still shut. I needed to see her eyes. “Just need… a second.”

My arms shook, beads of sweat rolled down my face, and my body screamed for me to move. I fisted the sheet in my hand. “Sunshine, I need you to look at me. Please. Can you do that for me, baby?”

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