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Charlotte laughed outrageously, knocking her head back. “I’d like to say the same to you.”
She reached for the waist of his pants, ripped the black pants down and allowing the thick, firm staff to emerge from between his legs, dropping several drops of cum onto the flat skin of her stomach. She wrapped her fingers around its thickness, unable to reach all the way around, and eased her hand from the hilt, up to the tip of his cock, making the skin taut. As she moved, his eyes closed, showing the intensity of the moment. He bit his lip, knocking his head back.
“Just get inside me,” Charlotte whispered, her voice harsh. “Come on, baby.”
Knocking her body back a bit on the comforter, she eased her long legs around his taut, muscled back, and then pulsed her silky pussy upward, pressing his tip against her. Her wetness made him sigh and moan immediately. He pushed into her gradually, becoming a part of her, folding into her limbs and body with familiarity now. His body immediately began to shake with pleasure.
He fucked her slowly, then, from above, with the maturity of an older man and the passion of a man falling in love. Charlotte nearly cried from the intense joy of it, feeling completely linked with him, the slow motions causing her brain to swirl.
They continued like this for over a half hour, with Quentin often removing himself almost all the way out, his tip the only part of himself still within her, before gliding back into her and filling her up, pressing hard against the softness of her G-spot.
Finally, Charlotte’s tight pussy walls began to quake with sudden orgasm, throwing the vibrations into Quentin’s rigid cock. They shared the orgasm, staring into one another’s eyes in their intimate, private hotel room. Collapsing, gasping, they wrapped their arms around one another and devolved into one another’s warmth, feeling strangely outside of time. Outside, the world had no understanding of where they were or what they were doing. Their existence was a beautiful secret.
The afternoon continued in much this manner, with Quentin calling Maggie to tell her he couldn’t find Charlotte on the street, but to email her telling her that her job was hers, if she returned for it.
Maggie agreed, almost begrudgingly, asking, “Where on earth did you go, then?”
“Had a family thing,” he lied.
Charlotte and Quentin continued to make love, eventually opening the hotel minibar and picking and choosing between the several different hard liquors and mixing various drinks together.
“It’s a Negroni,” Charlotte said, giggling, as she served him the spicy, Italian cocktail. “I learned to make it in college.”
“Oh,” Quentin said, sipping it and making a stern face. “So, you were an alcoholic in college? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
She devolved into another fit of giggles, folding into the warmth of his kisses.
“You aren’t going to kick me out of this bed, are you?” she asked him softly, swiping her finger across his eyebrow in a tender motion.
“I wouldn’t do that to you again,” Quentin murmured. “You’ve been driving me wild, Charlotte. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”
“Where were you yesterday, anyway?” Charlotte asked, her voice sweet, fatigued. “I was so worried you were avoiding the office because of me.”
“Nothing like that,” Quentin said. “My daughter had an allergic reaction to that Chinese food. I was at the hospital with her.”
Charlotte knocked up into a seated position, her eyes growing panicked. “Jesus, Quentin. Why didn’t you tell me? That’s terrifying. What was it?”
“Apparently, she’s allergic to shellfish. And the kitchen has some kind of—”
“Residue. Shit,” Charlotte murmured, swiping her fingers across her cheeks. “If I hadn’t brought you the Chinese that night, she wouldn’t have—”
“Hey, now,” Quentin began, slicing his palm through the air. “This is definitely not your fault. And she’s perfectly fine, now. She went home with her mother this morning. She’s a bit frustrated she can’t practice the piano as much as she’d like, but she’s fine.”
“Fuck, Quentin. You must have been so frightened. So, you got the call—”
“When you were sleeping beside me. Yes,” Quentin answered, his voice far away. “I’m sorry I kicked you out like that. I was frightened. I was feeling a lot of different things. Lust and emotions for you, and also, a certainty that we shouldn’t be together. Not when I need to be a good father to Morgan. Not when my second job, beyond anything, is this magazine.”
“That non-fraternization clause…” Charlotte whispered.
“Let’s not discuss it now,” Quentin answered, kissing her again. “It’s too damn depressing. And I don’t want to feel anything but this today.”
Charlotte closed her eyes and allowed herself to devolve into intense pleasure once more, making love to him throughout the rest of the evening and early morning, sleeping occasionally and finding solace in his body.
