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“No. I mean, you’re really happy? With me?”
I wanted to tell him what a lame word happy was, how it didn’t come close to touching on how I felt when I was with him. But I couldn’t go there. I wasn’t ready to open up the floodgates of my true feelings.
“I mean… I’d be a lot happier if you were naked…” I smirked at him. “Just saying.”
Charlie leapt off the bed and began stripping. His hands worked the buttons of his shirt and jeans faster than the eye could see.
“What about you?” I asked. “What took you so long to get back here?”
“Was getting raked over the coals by the patriarchs,” he said with a sheepish grin.
I propped myself up on my elbows. “Seriously?”
Charlie nodded. “Yep. They wanted to make sure I knew Grandpa had a shotgun always loaded and ready.”
“Shut up,” I said. “They did not.”
The last of his clothes came off, and he scrambled on top of me until we were chest to chest, his legs between mine and his lips brushing my jaw.
“Hi,” he whispered before moving up to kiss my lips. “I missed you today.”
“You have no idea,” I said. “I couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping by myself in a hotel room.”
“Did you get all your work done in the office?”
I felt a little shimmer of guilt for not being honest with him about why I’d gone to Dallas, but I couldn’t imagine breaking Bruce’s confidence.
“Yeah,” I said. “I was happy to finish today and come home early.”
And that was the truth anyway.
Charlie’s lips were still making a tour of my neck and chest. His hands found mine and brought them up above our heads while his hips made tempting little thrusts that pressed his excitement into my belly.
“Want you,” I said, trying to pull my hands out of his grasp so I could run my fingers through his hair. He held strong.
“I want you too. But I want you to do as I say, Hudson.”
My balls pulled up at the commanding tone of his voice.
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
His green eyes met mine and showed little mercy. It was obvious he had plans for me, and I was very much on board for whatever those plans involved.
“I want you to stay still,” he said. “Do not move unless I tell you to. Do you think you can do that?”
My entire lower belly tightened with interest.
“Yes,” I whispered. I hoped he hadn’t expected me to call him Sir, because that was a little past my comfort zone at this point.
“Good. Keep your hands up here,” Charlie said before letting go of them and moving down to lick a path over one of my nipples.
I swallowed back a gasp, not knowing if it would count as moving without permission.
His teeth clamped down gently on my nipple and tugged. He might as well have been tugging on my sac.
“Oh god,” I whimpered.
His hands smoothed along my sides before moving down to my hips. He tongued a path down the center of my chest until he got to my belly button. Bright eyes glanced up between long lashes. He was so fucking beautiful. His golden-red hair was spread out along my skin, and his pale face was beautifully marked with pink patches of arousal on his cheeks. I wanted to stare at him and touch him and kiss all over that creamy perfection all at once.
“Charlie,” I breathed.
Without taking his eyes off me, he ran his tongue down the trail of hair to the tip of my begging cock and then along its length. I squeezed my eyes closed, but he stopped until I opened them again.
“I want you to watch me swallow your cock,” he murmured.
Oh fuck.
He did it quickly, before I had a chance to remember not to move. My entire body bowed up with a cry of pleasure at the sucking wet heat around me. Within seconds, he released me with a wet pop and moved down to nuzzle my balls, licking and mouthing before moving his fingers in to caress the skin below.
Charlie continued to shuffle his way down the mattress until he could press up on the back of my thighs to push them toward my chest.
Suddenly, I was laid bare to him in a way I wasn’t used to. He could see everything, and it was right there in his face.
I wanted to bring my hands down to grab on to him, pull him back up to the social area where we could kiss and pretend none of that other stuff was happening. But I quickly realized that wasn’t what I really wanted. It was what I thought I was supposed to want.
What I really wanted was for him to touch me there.
“Please,” I begged. “Please, Irish.”
Instead of a hesitant press of a finger, I felt a warm tongue lap firmly across my hole as if it were an ice cream cone that needed punishing.
