Charlie
I wake in a bed so comfortable I think I’m floating and stare up at the ceiling, grinning like a lunatic. A bulky arm rests across my stomach and a thigh is wrapped around my hip. A sharp object pushes into the small of my back. It’s the perfect cage.
He’s heavy, but I can’t bring myself to lift him. My bladder is bursting, but I’m not budging. I’ll die in this spooning position, and they will just have to shape my coffin accordingly.
I cast a look over my shoulder to find him sleeping soundly, his face buried into my neck and his broad chest rising and falling.
I spent the night in Danny Walker’s house.
In Danny Walker’s bed.
Using Danny Walker as a blanket.
Twenty-year-old ‘me’ does a little victory dance in my head.
Somehow, this position seems more intimate than the endless sex the night before. We didn’t drift off to sleep until at least 4 a.m. My inner thighs are still raw from being pushed apart, and my lady parts feel like they have done twenty rounds with a jackhammer.
His skin is warm against mine, and I know he’s fully naked under the covers. I feel his breath on the back of my neck, and there’s a sharp wheezing sound, like the sound of a goose being strangled.
I stifle a giggle to stop him from waking.
He stirs slightly, and I shut my eyes to pretend I’m still sleeping.
His thighs tighten around my waist as his cock hardens against my hip. He wakes himself fully with a giant snore as if someone has squeezed his airway shut, and I continue to act dead.
His mouth brushes along my neck planting soft kisses down to my shoulders. I’m wearing his T-shirt that goes down to my waist, and his erection digs into my bare skin.
Relief floods me that he doesn’t scream with the sight of me in his bed.
“I know you’re awake,” he whispers in my ear as his hands travel down my stomach until he reaches my crotch and pushes two fingers into my sensitive slit like he owns it.
Oh, God, that feels good.
I inhale sharply and open my eyes. “Morning.”
His face is inches from mine, and I hope my mascara hasn’t given me panda eyes. I can’t hide in the dim lights of night-time or under the excuse of alcohol influence.
You’re mine comes a determined voice in my head as I stare into that handsome face.
I’m not going to give you up.
“Morning, you,” he replies in his husky tone. “Did you sleep OK?” he asks softly as my insides begin to quiver from his strokes.
“Best bed I’ve ever slept in,” I say, arching into his touch. “Although we’ve only technically been sleeping for four hours.”
My breathing becomes laboured as his fingers tease my swollen clit.
This is embarrassing; I’m going to come quickly if he keeps doing this.
He’ll think he is a god if all he has to do is touch for a few seconds and I lose control. I turn into him, wiggling my pussy against his crotch, and he groans.
“Hold it,” he growls. “I’m coming inside you.”
He gets on top of me and pushes my legs apart with his knees thrusting his erection up into my apex. “Spread your legs.”
“Wait, Danny,” I breathe, tightening my arms around his waist. “I’m tender. Go easy on me.”
“Whatever you need, sweetheart. I’ll be nice and gentle.”
“You sure can fuck for an old bloke.” I giggle.
“Cheeky bitch. I’m forty, not seventy,” he grumbles. “I’ll lose stamina if you keep talking like that.”
His lips brush mine, and his tongue slides softly through my lips as he takes his length and runs it up and down my slit.
“Slow, remember,” I whimper into his mouth as he pushes his tip inside me.
I wince and dig my hands into his back. I’ve never been this sensitive after sex.
“Relax,” he whispers softly as he inches in and out until he feels my muscles let him in.
Our kiss deepens, and then he’s fully in; I wrap my legs around his waist and push his buttocks into me.
My shallow moans are joined by his deep grunts and the sounds of boaters on the Thames. Every part of me is craving this.
“I’m not going to last,” he growls and I know that I won’t either. “I can’t go slow.”
Cursing, he thrusts into the deepest spot in my core again and again. His eyebrows knit together, and his mouth slackens into that gorgeous expression that tells me he’s so close to coming.
“Fuck … you feel too good … I can’t hold it.”
Seeing him this turned on by me just accelerates my own climax, and I hold my legs tight around him as we race towards release.
With one final thrust, his liquid pumps furiously into me, and I feel every drop with such force a shudder of intense pleasure rip through my body.
“That’s embarrassing,” he pants. “That really was a quickie.”
Our eyes lock, and he bends down to kiss me on the tip of the nose. “You’re sensational, Charlotte Kane.”
And you’re unforgettable, Danny Walker, which is a big issue.
Danny
I have a full view of her body in the bright bathroom lights and take in every line, every curve like I’ve just been given the gift of sight.
She looks up at me, wet hair sticking to her forehead and water flowing over those plump lips. I stare down at that flushed, devastatingly gorgeous face, and my breath hitches.
She’s unbelievable.
The sex was more than I could ever have imagined. Unforgettable mind-blowing sex.
The water forms waterfalls over the curve of her breasts, and my cock springs to life. The most minor thing sets me off.
“That thing always seems to be ready to go.” She stares at my erection wide-eyed.
I grin down at her, washing every inch of her body with meticulous detail. I slide my hands up her inner thighs and circle around her opening, making her moan softly.
Will I ever get enough of this woman? Just looking at her drives me fucking wild.
I need to go easy on her. She was whimpering this morning.
I just can’t control myself.
She raises a brow, amused. “I think I’m clean now.”
She takes my cock in her little hand, and I’m putty; the girl owns me and my dick. A growl rumbles from my lips as she wraps her fingers around my shaft and starts pumping.
Then without warning, she is on her knees, sliding me in and out of her beautiful, soft mouth like she’s starving.
“Fuck … Charlie … so fucking good,” I rasp out. “Don’t stop.”
Widening her mouth, she slides me all the way to the back of her throat, and I wrap my fingers through her hair, fighting the urge to ram myself deeper.
Aiming my gaze downwards, I watch her swallowing my cock, and I’m hypnotised.
Her big eyes look up at me adoringly, and I know I can’t watch this for long without coming. “I’m gonna come, sweetheart,” I warn her, my eyes rolling up to the ceiling.
Ignoring me, she sucks deeper and faster, and I know I’m a goner. When I look down again, she stares up at me, cheeks flushed, eyes burning with determination.
Groaning loudly, my cock jerks as I empty myself into her mouth, and she drinks it down, never breaking my gaze.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” I breathe heavily as I pull her up to standing and take her in my arms.
“You’re welcome.”
My lips take hers in a soft, lingering kiss then I pull back to stare into that beautiful face.
“OK, now I’m hungry,” she tells me, releasing herself from my hold.
“What the lady wants, the lady shall get,” I reply, opening the door of the double shower.
Standing behind her, I wrap a towel around her and squeeze her tight like she’s a gift all wrapped up for me.
Her gaze meets mine in the bathroom mirror. “I’ve got no toothbrush with me.”
“I’ve got some spare.” I lean over and open the top cabinet taking out a toothbrush.
She frowns as she watches me. “One for every girl of the week”
“Not quite,” I reply dryly. “I’m single, Charlie. What do you expect?”
I turn her around. “I want to spend the day with you,” I say before I can stop myself.
Her face lights up.
“First, I’m going to make you breakfast, then I’m going to fuck you again.”
***
Thirty minutes later, she is perched on my breakfast bar in my sweater, five sizes too big for her and barely covering her underwear as her toned, naked legs swing out.
“Can you even cook?” She eyes me suspiciously as I add oil to the pan. “Tristan’s like a giant baby waiting on other people to feed him. I assumed you were the same.”
I turn to face her, indignant. “You assumed wrong. I can cook. Any more of that cheek, and you won’t find out.”
The sweater hangs down to expose a naked shoulder. Her dark brown hair tumbles loosely in waves over the curves of her breasts, messy and unbrushed, and the outline of her nipple shows she’s not wearing a bra. I lick my lips, visualising those pink nipples underneath.
I might need to request she puts on a bra if she doesn’t want burnt bacon.
I want her to wear this outfit for the rest of her life; hell, I’ll even change the employee terms and conditions to allow her to walk around the office in my sweater.
I notice, with guilt, a redness forming on her neck where my stubble has punctured her skin. I was too rough last night.
She tries to look over my shoulder at the contents of the pan. “So long as it’s not some weird Scottish haggis or black pudding.”
“What did I say?” I warn, coming around her to squeeze her waist. “Less cheek, or you’ll go hungry.”
“You’re such a grown-up.” She exhales. “Look at all these gadgets. You have a juicer and a blender. And a pasta maker. Do you even know how to make pasta?”
“Not yet,” I admit, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to her. “Someday.”
“I don’t know what the hell those are for.” She stares at my meat-shredding claws. “Like serial killer forks.”
I chuckle, turning the bacon. “My meat shredders.”
“Meat shredders.” She repeats slowly. “I’m not sure I’m safe here.”
I roll my eyes and set down two plates of sourdough bread, poached eggs, bacon, and avocado.
“Wait.” Her eyes light up like she’s been on a week-long fast. “Let me get this straight. You can give me multiple orgasms, and you can cook?”
“Glad I exceeded your expectations.”
She loads up a massive spoonful of food. “Perhaps you’re not the ogre I thought you were.”
“I am,” I reply, sitting down opposite her at the breakfast bar. “Don’t let this fool you.”
She shoves the spoonful into her mouth and starts spluttering, food spitting out. “My food usually gets a better reaction.”
“Oh my god, Danny.” She giggles. “There’s a love bite on you.”
I turn to the mirror to see a dark red bite mark on my lower neck.
Fuck. The threat of castration by Tristan looms.
