Page 100
“God,” he moaned, “I missed you . . .”
His lips were on hers again, and she drank as if she’d die of thirst. With a roar of pleasure, Torr came inside her, Charlotte continuing to clutch him for dear life.
Charlotte really just wanted to collapse in a heap on the floor of the shower at this moment. And maybe sleep for a few days. Her body felt like it was made of Silly Putty.
Torr turned off the water and ran his hands through his hair. Reaching for hers, he wrung it out as if he weren’t a boy who should have no business knowing how to twist a woman’s hair free of water.
Then he swept her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her from the bathroom in a princess hold.
No towel, mind you.
“I’m dripping wet—”
“I know.” The intense need in his tone was enough to silence her. She no longer cared that she was wet, or that the carpet would be soaked. She only cared about him.
Placing her gently onto the bed, he lowered himself on top of her. Both of them were still wet, but she soon forgot as he promptly began to kiss her, heating her up all over again.
Charlotte was intimately aware of the increased stamina that came with his curse—or blessing—but still, she wasn’t prepared for—
“Oh!” His fingers.
She looked into the green eyes above her as he drove her to the brink with a few simple touches. Droplets of water from his hair snaked down her shoulders.
“Expecting something else?”
She honestly couldn’t keep up. Except that sensation unfurled within her, glorious and strong and undeniable, and she couldn’t do anything but grab the comforter and scream. He’d used his thumb and his fingers that time. It shouldn’t be humanly possible to bring her to back-to-back orgasms so quickly.
Except he wasn’t human.
And then he was gone.
Reappearing a moment later, wrapped in a towel, Torr proceeded to dry her as if she were a child and couldn’t be trusted to complete the job herself.
It felt kind of nice, actually.
“A bit late for the modesty, isn’t it?” she said, referring to the towel wrapped around his waist.
He winked. “I didn’t want you to get any ideas. I know how relentless you can be in—”
He didn’t finish. The pillow she’d thrown at his face prevented it.
Torr lowered the pillow onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her. Appreciating her.
“Don’t even think about it,” she cautioned, not really meaning it.
“Too late.”
She smiled lazily. “Honestly, Torr. We need to talk.”
“About?”
She opened her mouth and pointed.
“Ahh, that. Did you change your mind? Do you want me to tell you—”
“No. I just . . . I wondered if you were going to do it tonight.”
He didn’t answer at first.
