Chapter 3 OBSESSED WITH BUBBLES

Carter’s POV)

She froze the second her eyes snapped open and locked on mine.

Her hand flew out of her shorts like she’d been caught stealing, cheeks flooding with that deep, embarrassed pink that spread all the way down her neck and across the tops of her breasts. Her thin tank top had ridden up, exposing the soft curve of her stomach and the way her nipples were still tight little peaks pushing desperately against the fabric. A few strands of hair clung to her damp forehead. Her thighs pressed together tight, trying to hide everything I’d already seen—how wet she was, how her fingers had been circling her clit while she moaned my name under her breath.

“Carter—I didn’t know you were back,” she whispered, voice small and cracking. She curled in on herself, arms wrapping around her middle like she could disappear. “I’m sorry. I ate that cookie and everything just… I shouldn’t have done this. This is so embarrassing, please just pretend you didn’t see anything—”

“Don’t stop, Bubbles.”

The words came out low and rough. I stepped all the way into the room and shut the door behind me with a quiet click. My cock was already rock-hard, straining painfully against my shorts, throbbing in time with the pulse I could see jumping in her throat.

She shook her head fast, eyes wide and glassy. “I can’t… Carter, I’m not sure. We shouldn’t do this.” Her voice trembled as she tried to tug her tank top back down, fingers shaky.

I crossed the room in two strides and dropped to my knees right in front of her, close enough that her shaky breath brushed my face. I wrapped my fingers around her wrist—firm but gentle—and guided her hand right back between her legs, pressing her own fingers against the soaked heat of her pussy through her shorts.

“I said don’t stop,” I murmured, eyes locked on hers. “I heard you when I walked in. You were moaning my name. You have no idea how fucking hot that sounded. Tell me, Bubbles—does it feel good when you touch yourself thinking about me?”

Her face went even redder. She bit her lip, thighs squeezing together for a second before they parted again. “Carter… please…” Her voice was barely a whisper, shy and uncertain, but her fingers stayed where I’d placed them.

The way she breathed my name made my cock twitch. I slid my free hand under the hem of her tank top, palm flat against the warm, soft skin of her stomach. Higher. My thumb brushed over one stiff nipple and she gasped sharply, back arching into my touch even as she whispered, “Wait… I’m not sure about this.”

“Keep touching yourself,” I ordered quietly, pinching her nipple between my thumb and forefinger—firm enough to make her whimper. “Just like you were doing when I walked in. Don’t you dare stop until I tell you to. And tell me if it’s too much, baby. I need to know you’re with me.”

She let out a tiny, embarrassed sound. Her fingers started moving again—shy little circles at first, hesitant and slow. When I rolled her nipple and tugged, her breath hitched and she shook her head once, cheeks burning. “This is… too fast. I’ve never…”

“I saw your face this afternoon,” I said, voice low against her inner thigh. I leaned in closer, letting my breath ghost over her skin. “When you walked in on me fucking that girl. You looked so flustered. So shocked. Made me so hard I almost wished it was you bent over that couch instead of her. You like that I’m watching you now, don’t you?”

“Carter—” Her voice broke on my name, half apology, half plea. She squirmed under my gaze, one hand fluttering like she wanted to cover herself but didn’t. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to watch—I shouldn’t have—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Bubbles.” I pinched her nipple harder this time, sharp enough to make her moan out loud. “But I do like hearing you beg. Touch yourself faster for me. Does it feel better when I touch you like this?”

Her hips gave a small, uncertain roll against her own hand. I kept the steady pinch-and-roll on her nipple, alternating between soft teasing strokes and sharper tugs that made her back arch and her breath hitch. Her free hand flew to my hair, gripping tight like she needed something to hold on to even as she whispered again, “Carter… please… I’m not sure I should… but I need more. Touch me again. Please.”

“Good girl,” I growled. I slid my hand down from her breast, over her stomach, and pushed her own fingers aside. I hooked two fingers under the waistband of her shorts and panties and dragged them down her thighs in one smooth motion, baring her completely. She was soaked—shiny and swollen and glistening. I groaned at the sight.

I leaned in and dragged my tongue slowly up her slit, tasting her. She cried out, thighs shaking. I sucked her clit into my mouth at the same time I slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right. Her back bowed off the bed.

“Oh god—Carter—”

I pinched her nipple again with my other hand, hard, while I fucked her with my fingers and sucked her clit. Her first orgasm hit fast—her walls clamped down around my fingers, thighs clamping around my head, a broken cry of my name spilling out of her as she came hard on my tongue.

I didn’t stop. I kept sucking, kept curling my fingers, kept pinching her nipple until she was whimpering and oversensitive, her hands pushing weakly at my shoulders. “Carter—too much—I can’t—”

“You can,” I commanded against her pussy, pulling back just enough to meet her glassy eyes. “Give me another one, Bubbles. Come again for me. Tell me if you want me to slow down—be honest.”

She came a second time with a sob, hips jerking, fingers tightening in my hair so hard it stung. I rode her through it, licking her slower, gentler, until the tremors faded, then checked her face again. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. Still good?”

But I still wasn’t done.

I pulled back just enough to look at her—flushed, wrecked, lips swollen, eyes glassy. “Put your hand on my cock,” I ordered softly. “Only if you want to.”

She hesitated, shy again, eyes darting away as she whispered, “I… I don’t know if I should…” but her hand reached out anyway. I guided it to the front of my shorts, pressing her palm against the hard length of me. She gasped at how hard I was.

“Stroke me while I make you come one more time,” I told her, voice low. “And tell me what feels good for you right now.”

She obeyed, wrapping her fingers around me through the fabric at first, then slipping her hand inside my shorts when I groaned. Her touch was shy but eager, stroking me slow and uncertain while I leaned back in and sucked her clit again, two fingers sliding back inside her.

This time I fucked her harder with my fingers, curling them against that spot that made her thighs shake violently. I pinched her nipple in time with every stroke of her hand on my cock. Her third orgasm built fast—she was moaning my name nonstop now, hips grinding against my face, hand flying over my cock even as she kept whispering broken little protests between moans. “Carter… we shouldn’t… I’m not sure…”

“Come,” I growled against her. “Right now. You’re safe with me, Bubbles—I’ve got you.”

She came with a loud, broken cry, body convulsing, walls pulsing around my fingers, hand squeezing my cock so tight I almost lost it right there. I kept licking her through it until she was a trembling, whimpering mess, then gently pulled away.

She sagged back against the pillows, chest heaving, eyes heavy and unfocused. I stood, lifted her gently, and tucked her properly under the covers. She curled toward me for a second, head resting against my chest, already drifting off with a soft, satisfied sigh.

I stayed until her breathing evened out completely, soft and steady, then slipped away.

I closed her door quietly and went straight to my bathroom.

The shower water was ice-cold when I stepped under it, but it did nothing to kill the fire still burning through me. I braced one hand on the tile wall, the other wrapping tight around my aching cock, and stroked hard and fast.

“Fuck, Bubbles…” I growled under the spray, eyes closed, seeing her flushed face again, her parted lips, the way she’d begged while I pinched her nipples and told her not to stop.

I’d wanted her for so damn long. I was an only child. My mom had dementia and I never knew my father — just the street whispers that he’d been a gang leader. I swore I’d never become him, but bills and the shit I grew up with dragged me into illegal kickboxing. One bad bet, one lost fight, and I almost died bleeding out in an alley.

Luke found me, dragged me to his home, patched me up and took care of my wounds.

That’s the night I first really saw her — little Bubbles, with that bright smile and those pure eyes that lit up my whole dark world.

After I recovered, Luke showed me basketball, forced the coach to give me a shot mid-season, and basically saved my life again. He gave me a home, money when my mom’s medical bills crushed us, and after she passed he made sure I still had family.

The only thing he ever asked was one promise: “My little sister is off-limits. Promise to protect her.” And I gave him my word. But her bubbly laugh and the way she looked at me… it was torture even then.

Now she’s a woman, and staying away was even harder.

But living in the same fucking house?

It was going to be damn near impossible not to make her mine.

I stroked faster, jaw clenched tight, remembering the way she’d moaned my name, the way her thighs shook, the way she’d looked at me when she came. My hand flew over my cock, rough and desperate, until I came hard with a low groan, spilling over my fist while the cold water beat down on my back as I continued to moan her name.

She was going to ruin me.

And right now, with her sleeping just a few feet away, I wasn’t sure I cared anymore.