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Tatum lifted her head to look at him as he rubbed his thumb over her clit and finally eased a finger inside her.
“Tell me about Sutton,” he said as he flicked his tongue over her.
“What?”
“How old is she?”
“Twenty-five.” Tatum closed her eyes.
“And Bryony?”
“I can’t talk about my niece while you have your face between my legs.”
“I just want you to relax,” he promised.
“Make me come like you did last time.” She combed her fingers through his hair.
“You want it like that?” he asked her. “Or like this?”
“I just want it. I want you to make me come.”
He worked her with his fingers, his tongue, his lips—even his teeth, though he nipped softly this time, driving her out of her mind. The pressure of his tongue on her clit and the drag of his fingers over her walls lifted her, but each time he sensed she was about to explode, he stopped. Nuzzled her thighs. Licked a trail up to her belly button. Played with her butt cheeks, squeezing and rubbing her until she whimpered for more.
“She’s six,” she cried, hands reaching blindly for him.
“That’s my girl,” he crooned and dipped his face back between her legs. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”
Blind with need, she did as he told her, gasping with pleasure when he spread her seam open with his thumbs and sucked her into his mouth. Tatum lost herself in the pressure of his fingers inside her and his hot, wet mouth on her clit. Eyes on the ceiling, she could swear the moonlight painted stars there as Charlie pushed her harder and she broke under him and screamed his name.
“Again,” he commanded her. Her body shook as he continued his assault on her sensitive skin. “Come again, Tatum. I got you.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. It’s okay.”
She arched her back off the floor and tangled her fingers in his hair when a tidal wave of heat flooded her. Her eyes burned; tears streaked her face when she squeezed them closed. Charlie lifted his head; she felt his eyes on her as she rode the orgasm out. Panting now, she slid her legs down his body as he eased his way up over her to kiss her. Tasting herself on his lips, his tongue, aroused her again.
“Take these off.” She dragged her nails down his back and slipped her hands inside his shorts. Charlie obliged, moving quickly to finish undressing and find a condom in his wallet. But as with the way he’d just driven her to the brink twice with patient, practiced kisses, he slowed to roll the condom on, eyes locked with hers as he did so. Rather than driving into her, he held the eye contact and eased into her a bit at a time. Tatum wanted to grab his ass and pull him in deeper, faster, but she loved the slow pressure inside as he entered her.
Finally, he pulled out and eased into her again, his hips moving over hers in a beautiful dance. It lasted forever, the way he made love to her, and yet, when she fell over the edge again and took him with her, she was sad it was over so quickly.
“Can I stay?” he whispered when she lay with her head on his chest.
“Yes.”
Eyes closed, she waited for him to grill her about Sutton and Bryony. Again, Charlie proved generous and thoughtful.
“Tell me who you are, Tatum.”
“You know me biblically,” she reminded him, hoping to put him off.
“I’ve been inside your body,” he corrected her. “Let me in everywhere else.”
23
Charlie traced his fingers over her side and across her back, in love with her soft, warm skin and the rise and fall of her chest against him as she breathed. They had moved to the bedroom and made love again. Satiated, he was ready for her to talk and aware that she would do her best to put him off again.
“What kind of puppy?”
