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Charlotte hummed. “She is.”
Within minutes, we were out.
Charlotte slept like the dead, and so did I.
I woke while it was still dark, and it took me a few moments to orient myself to where I was.
Charlotte was on her side, hand splayed over my stomach, her leg slung over mine.
Leaving all the thoughts in my head suspended, I turned my body toward hers.
My palm coasted up the length of her leg, hitching it over my hip while I tugged her closer. Her skin was so warm, her body so pliable. Her hair was everywhere, and I pushed it behind her shoulder, allowing the soft strands between my fingers while I breathed her in.
Charlotte’s hips shifted incrementally.
“I should let you sleep,” I whispered against her forehead. She hummed, still not fully awake.
I’d never been more selfish than this night with her.
I could take from her for hundreds of nights, just like that one.
Thousands of nights. Days. Mornings. Every second in between.
I’d always want her.
This was the puzzle piece I’d never quite been able to picture.
As I closed my eyes and let my lips drift over the arch of her cheekbone, the straight line of her nose, I caught a glimpse of us in a different room: big circular window in the peak of the wall, the sun streaming in over a big bed with a very sturdy carved frame.
Green-and-white tiles on the bathroom floor.
My heart turned in my chest on a slow, chugging beat when I realized what I was imagining. The guilt may have crippled me any other day, but I snapped the door shut on that, refusing to let it intrude on this warm, sweet moment with her.
My kisses on her face moved to each corner of her mouth, my hands pushing up beneath the shirt she wore, the one with my name on it.
She arched her back, her breath moving faster as she stirred awake.
Her breasts were so soft and warm, filling my palms as her skin tightened underneath mine. Her nipples were pink, sweet, and hard when I tasted them.
Charlotte’s eyelids fluttered open, illumined only by the parking lot light coming in through a slight break in the curtains.
“What time is it?” she asked.
I kissed her instead of answering. I didn’t want questions right now. Because I knew that if we started asking them, the house of cards in my head would blow over.
Selfish.
The word echoed in my head, but I shoved it away as I deepened the kiss. Her tongue was warm and wet when it slid against mine.
Charlotte pushed her hands under the elastic band of my boxer briefs, gripping me firmly as I rocked my hips.
We didn’t remove the shirt that covered her; I simply pushed it up and sucked her breast into my mouth while she worked her hand in a slow, maddening rhythm.
It was hard but not quite hard enough.
Slow, just a bit too slow.
She was teasing me, trying her very best to push me to my breaking point like she had before.
