Page 65 of More Than Friends

Char’s hand dances along her skin until she pinches her nipple between two fingers.

I imagine taking that nipple into my mouth. I want to bite and suck and bite and suck some more until she’s begging me for more. How much could I turn her on just by playing with her nipples?

I’m hard as a fucking rock imagining it.

The comforter slips down her body, and now I have a view of her perfect, round tits. She continues to play with her nipple as her hand underneath the comforter moves faster and faster.

I’m stuck in a trance.

Watching her like this is both the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and the most tortured I’ve ever felt. I want to watch her come undone, but at the same time, I want to be the one to make her fall over the edge.

“Jude.” This time, my name is said so loudly that I can’t not react. She’s fucking herself with a vibrator, thinking of me, and that seems permission enough to let my presence be known.

I push the door open, and for a few seconds, the only thing I can hear is the sound of my own beating pulse. I grip the doorframe so tightly that my nails might bite into the wood. Icouldn’t care less. All I can do is stare at her, anxious to find out what happens next. Letting her know I’m here instead of backing away and pretending this never happened is something we can’t come back from. This isn’t us just kissing briefly or stolen touches—this is full-blown lust and pure, hot need that will be hard to move on from.

Charlotte’s eyes pop open, and her entire body stills as her eyes meet mine.

I fight the urge to tell her she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. My every thought seems to be consumed by her, and I’ve never wanted something more than I want her.

Her only movement is the quick rise and fall of her chest as she stares at me. She blinks, as if she’s trying to figure out if she’s imagining me or not. I run my hand up and down my length through the fabric of my pants, needing some sort of relief from how much she’s turned me on without even realizing it.

I swallow, knowing my next words could change everything between us. I don’t care if things change. I want them to. I can’t go on wanting her like this and pretending I don’t. I need her more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life, and I’m over pretending otherwise. Something’s snapped inside me, and all I can do is hope that with my next words, she doesn’t push me away.

“If you’re going to come thinking of me, the least you could do is let me be the one to do it.” My words come out thick and raspy. I let the weight of them linger between us, my gaze focused on her as I wait for her response.

I continue to brush up and down my cock. Everything hurts from how turned on I am. Even stroking myself through the fabric of my pants isn’t enough to dull the ache.

“Jude,” she whispers, blinking again as if she’s still trying to figure out if I’m here or not. She’s completely still as she stares back at me in shock. “What are you doing here?”

My hand drops from the doorframe as I take a step inside her room. I pull the door closed behind me as I pay close attention to her reaction. If it feels like she wants me to leave, I’ll go, but I hope that isn’t the case.

I hope she lets me finish her off. I know by the pants and moans she was letting out that she was close to coming. I only hope that she doesn’t stop whatever’s happening between us, and she’ll let me finish the job for her.

I take another step toward her. “Were you touching yourself while thinking of me?”

Her eyes go wide. “Jude.” My name comes out like a pant. It’s so sexy that my cock jerks just at the sound of my name coming from her mouth.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” I respond, continuing to close the distance between us until I’m standing at the foot of her bed. “Now, tell me if you were thinking about me.”

I don’t know how long it stays silent between us. The only sound is the buzzing of her vibrator that I can’t see. There’s still a bulge in the comforter from where she holds her hand, and it’s still right above her pussy, meaning she hasn’t moved the vibrator from where she was fucking herself.

The realization sends a shiver down my spine. Everything about this moment is so fucking hot that I can barely take it. I might combust at any minute.

Charlotte closes her eyes for a minute. I use it as an opportunity to trail my gaze along the bare skin not hidden by the comforter.

Up close, I find that her nipples are hard and pink, the peaks begging for my touch—or maybe even my mouth. Even her chest has a perfect pink flush to it, the color something I can only see because of the light that filters out from the bathroom.

I trace over her ribs and her stomach, wishing that the comforter weren’t resting right underneath her belly button so Icould see even more of her. I take my time letting my eyes return to her face. When our gazes finally meet, I find her staring back at me expectantly.

“Tell me to leave,” I rasp. It takes every fiber in my being to get the words out. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay right here and finish what she started, but I know I’ve walked in on her, and I need to give her the chance to stop this if she doesn’t want anything to happen.

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t tell me to leave, then I’m going to crawl into this bed with you and show you how much better I am at making you come.”

THIRTY-EIGHT

CHARLOTTE