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He tore open a condom, eyes on Charlotte as he pressed it over his length, and something about that moment, the way he looked at her, kept the magic of the spell weaved right around them, so she was no longer worried, she was no longer thinking about the logistics of this, she was simply caught in the moment, and trusting that it would be perfect. Maybe not perfect—because what was in life?—but as good as everything between them had been to this point.
She held her breath as he brought his body over hers, his eyes watchful, waiting, until she gave a small nod, and lifted her hips, needing him more than he could possibly ever understand. Every fibre of her being reverberated with that need, with her all-consuming desire for him.
“Please,” she said again, simply, her fingers lifting to his shoulders, holding on for dear life, as he nudged her legs wider, then tilted himself at her sex, just the tip of him pressed there at first. She held her breath, lips compressed, but rather than pushing into her, he moved his hands to her hips, stroking her there slowly, before moving higher, to her breasts, tracing fine, teasing lines around each nipple until she could no longer focus on his arousal. Pleasure was building inside every cell, her limbs were heavy and elastic, and she was babbling—his name, she thought—over and over.
Then, he took her, moving inside slowly, cautiously, and despite the building pleasure his touch had brought, she froze, eyes flying back to his, babbling stopped, as he inched forward. So big. So hard. She swallowed, dug her nails deeper into his shoulders.
“Okay?”
She groaned, because she still didn’t know if he’d fit and he was stretching her in ways that were entirely new, but Charlottewantedall of him. She didn’t want him to treat her like she was a fragile piece of glass, she wanted him to take her with the madness that had exploded in both of their souls.
“Please,” she said, again and again, the words husky. “I want this.”
He expelled a long breath, barely audible, and then brought his body more fully over hers, his mouth on Charlotte’s, his tongue pushing between her lips as he sunk into her fully, all of him, all of his enormous arousal, and he lay there a moment, so she could get used to the way he filled her up, to the parts of her he pressed against, to the sensations of this, and she gasped because it was all so new and wonderful and different.
He pushed up onto his elbows, staring at her face, and she stared back, wondering at the strange stitching sensation in her chest that seemed to almost hurt when they looked right into each other’s eyes like this. It was too intimate. Too much. She blinked away quickly, to clear the thought, and then, she moved her hips, just a little, to reposition herself, and he filled different parts of her, brushed against nerve endings that had already been stimulated to the point of insanity, and so just that small touch, the way he filled her up so completely, made her tip towards the edge of all things, and very nearly over it.
But it was Alessio’s next movement that took her there. Just the smallest shift of his hips and she was exploding completely, wrapping her legs around his waist to hold him right where he was, hitched deep, her head tilted back as every single atom in the world shook and took on a new shape and size.
Her heart rate went crazy, and it took a long time for it to calm again. At least, it felt like a long time, but when she slowly drifted back to reality it was to find Alessio exactly where he was, looking at her with a slightly bemused expression, so she coloured.
“Did I do something wrong?”
That sobered him immediately. “Wrong?” He swore softly. “No,cara.That was, I think, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I want more.”
I want more.
“More what?”
“Of your pleasure.”
“Ohhhhh,” she moaned as he began to move properly now, his cock shifting in all the ways that guaranteed she’d feel pleasure again, and again, before his own release, after more orgasms than Charlotte could count, Alessio had left her unable to form two thoughts together. Her body felt leaden, her mind even more so.
Afterwards, he pulled out of her, and she had to bite down, hard, on her lip, to stop tears from forming in her eyes. It was a totally unwanted reaction, a physical instinct. Because she’d been wrong—that had been perfect. Absolutely perfect. And she wanted to stay suspended in that state forever, just the two of them, their bodies entwined, pleasure a pulsating, ever-present tidal wave which they were completely a part of.
She shifted in the bed as he moved, knowing she had to fix that stitch in her chest, to harden up, and trying desperately to energise her brain to remember all of the things she needed in that moment, the reality that their intimate lovemaking had pushed far, far away.
This was very, very temporary. Not forever. Not even for a full week. Maybe even just for this one night—neither had committed to more than that.
He didn’t want anything more, and she couldn’t have anything more, because there was Dash.
He dated sophisticated supermodels, not inexperienced, normal women like Charlotte. He was just spending time with her because he happened to be here, in the middle of nowhere, and evidently, he had the libido of a prize bull.
He would leave, soon, and Charlotte would have her usual life to step into, a life that included Caleb and Winnie. Winnie aside, Caleb hated this man, and she wasn’t an idiot: he cared for Charlotte. He could never know about what had just happened. He’d find it hard to forgive Charlotte, even though she’d done nothing wrong.
All of those thoughts cycled through her brain, as she watched Alessio move towards the door. “Bathroom?” He asked, a smile tugging at his lips that made her want him all over again.How?She wanted to scream at her treacherous body. How could she be so desperately hungry for him?
“Cara?”
“Oh, right.” She cringed at her lack of sophistication. “Down the hall, at the end. You can’t miss it.”
He grinned properly now, then disappeared, so she could slump back against the bed and stare at the low, dimpled-by-age ceiling, and replay each torturously delightful moment of what they’d just shared.
Pleasure had a zappingeffect and Charlotte slept like the dead. A dreamless, heavy slumber, so immersive that when she woke, it was like pushing through layers and layers of dirt with her bare hands, scraping her way to the surface, and when she emerged, it was with a sense of disorientation that took moments to break. She was in her room, but something was different. Shefeltdifferent. Stretching slightly, her body hummed in a way she wasn’t used to, muscles feeling a little like she’d run a marathon, and a pervasive lightness in her consciousness that she couldn’t explain. Not, at least, until her heel connected with the calf of the man beside her, and everything came rushing back to her. Their night together. The first time, but then, heat flooded her cheeks as she remembered the next, sometime in the small hours, she’d woken with her hands on his body, and his eyes on her, watching, that quirky, sexy smile of his totally taking her breath away, his quick movement to pull her on top of him, barely taking the time to sheathe himself before she took him, and it was so different being on top, her body dictating their pleasure.
There was euphoria in her movements but also in his response to them—he was powerless to control the speed with which they exploded, and she delighted in that, in the way he responded to her, showing that he was as utterly caught up in this pleasure as she was.
She’d fallen asleep again afterwards, and she wasn’t sure why, but if she’d thought about it at all in a way that could be put into words, she might have thought he’d have left by now. That he’d have tiptoed from her flat, back to his own room, but no.
