Chapter 52
FIFTY-TWO
Ruin
At first, she doesn’t realize what I’m doing. She’s blinking rapidly, trying to piece it together, trying to catch up to what I’ve just done. And slowly, it clicks.
Her eyes clear through the confusing mix of lust and uncertainty as she takes it all in.
Her—fully clothed, standing over my completely naked frame.
Me—restrained, staring up at her with sheer reverence.
My eyes don’t leave her face, don’t waver for a second. I let her see it, every bit of it. The devotion. The silent offer of the control I’m placing at her feet. Freely.
Then it happens.
The shift.
And her eyes darken. Gaze deepening as she understands exactly what this is. What I’m trusting her with. How I’m giving her my utter surrender—my dignity—in the same place I recklessly destroyed hers.
And fuck, the way her eyes change at the sight of my absolute submission… it’s almost euphoric.
She sways slightly, steadying herself by resting both her hands on my shoulders. And I shudder at the contact.
Her fingers shake as they slide up my neck, pausing at my throat for half a second. Then she cups my jaw with one hand, palm-side up. “You’re a fool,” she whispers, voice wavering.
I smile up at her. “Yeah? Well, your fool is at your mercy.”
Eyes hooded with need, she brings her hand to her blouse. Without a second of hesitation, she strips it off.
I force myself not to fall on my ass, swallowing hard at the beautiful sight of her supple breasts. But I keep my hands at my back. Clenching tighter.
“Take off my jeans.”
Holy fuck. Okay.
The second my hands come up to her waist, she shivers, my fingers caressing the soft skin along her waistband.
“And don’t hide those hands from me, Theo,” she adds softly. But there’s a command there. “Ever.”
I groan, biting my lip, when I drag her jeans down slowly. Unable to resist brushing her soft skin as I do.
God. She’s wearing a pair of thin, black panties. I can even see the tiny bulge of her swollen clit. My mouth waters at the sight.
Once off, I chuck her jeans toward the pile of my clothes and look up at her again. She’s staring at me with such a fevered expression that I take another risk.
My fingers hook at the side of the panties. There’s a question in my pause. And she answers it with a quick flick of her bra unclasping. Thrown away just as fast.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is happening.
I pull down the flimsy fabric in one swift motion. Baring her for me.
A soft dusting of trimmed hair greets me, her pussy glistening wet. I want to touch her. Kiss her there. But I settle for a light brush of my lips against her skin—right above it.
Then I drop my head on her stomach. My breath uneven, whole body shivering under the fierce need I’ve caged.
And thank fuck she allows me some mercy. Because suddenly, her hands grip the sides of my head. Her thigh slowly mounting my shoulder, opening up for me in an invitation.
That’s all the signal I need.
Curling my arm over her thigh, I hold her steady. My other hand presses against her lower back, pulling her close, burying myself in her sweet, warm heat.
She moans my name, shivering—her grip tightening around my head.
I’m aching, fingers digging into her skin. Every moan, every breathy sigh from her lips spurs me on. But I don’t dare stop. Not until she’s shattering in my arms.
“God, Charlotte,” I breathe against her pussy, breathless.
Then I lap.
I nibble.
My eyes lifting to meet her hooded gaze as I do.
I tease her with languid, drawn-out swipes of my hungry tongue. Until I find my rhythm. Latching onto her clit as she chokes on a cry.
I lift my arm, blindly caressing every inch of her body until I have her gorgeous, ample breasts in my hand.
She drips all over my chin. My tongue never leaves her sweet nub. Hot, wet sounds leave my mouth—and I groan when her cries become louder and louder.
I pinch her nipple between my fingers. Her legs quaking in my grip.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Theo… baby, please.” She sobs with pleasure, mindlessly. Then her body gives out with a loud moan as she comes on my tongue. Her whole frame bending, engulfing me with her warmth.
I lick her clit again, softer this time. And she cries out, writhing against me. Her body nearly limp.
She’s panting, breathing hard as she sits down on the edge of the bed behind her. Staring at me with an emotion I dare not name.
“Theo,” she breathes out, a soft, sated smile on her face.
I will never—ever—get enough of her saying my name. Especially like this.
When I crawl closer, my hands roaming possessively over her thigh, she shifts. Backing up on the bed—parting her legs wider. “Fuck me, Theo.”
Christ. This woman is trying to kill me.
As much as I want to fuck her into this mattress right this second, I need to go slow. I’m well aware this is her first time. And I can’t bear to mess this up for her.
“I will, my love,” I whisper, trailing wet kisses on her inner thigh.
Slowly, I climb up, my lips dragging over every inch of her gorgeous body. I kiss her stomach, then right below her breasts. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby. My fucking dream,” I praise her, dropping a kiss right between her breasts.
I cup one, bending to take it into my mouth, lavishing it with the kind of attention I’ve only dared dream.
My hands roam her skin—her waist, her ribs, then higher. She squirms beneath me, gasping my name.
I move to the other breast.
“T-Theo, oh God,” she moans, desperate. “Come inside—I need you. Please.”
Fuck.
Slowly—fucking gently—I slide one finger into her tight heat. Then I lift my face to hers as I hook my finger up lightly. Her hands claw at my back, face twisting in pleasure.
I stay in the moment—fully attuned to her every single gasp, the way her muscles coil under me.
“Can you take another, baby?”
She nods, breathless.
I add another, her back arching at the intrusion. Then I swallow every gasp and moan as I take her mouth for a searing kiss.
Her tongue laps at mine, eager. Wanton.
Rubbing circles on her clit with my thumb, I watch her fall apart the second time. Her pussy is impossibly slick, drenching my hand.
I don’t rush her.
I don’t fuck her the way my body is begging me to. Because this has to be on her terms.
Gently, I shift us, guiding her with careful hands until she’s the one above me. Charlotte settles over my thighs, her breath still uneven, her eyes searching mine like she’s trying to steady herself.
I brush my thumbs along her hips, grounding her.
“At your pace, my love.”
Her lips curve slowly. Sly. Beautiful.
I hiss when she grabs my hard, weeping cock. The contact alone drags a sharp hiss from my chest, my head falling back for a second as my entire body tightens.
“—oh, fuck—baby.” My voice fractures, breath catching. “Jesus.”
She watches me like she’s learning something. Like she’s taking something. Like she knows I’m fully hers.
I fucking am.
Her hand moves again, thumb smearing my precum over the head, and I groan—low, wrecked, completely at her mercy.
“That’s it,” I rasp, eyes locking on hers as she tugs my cock with slow, torturous strokes. “God, just like that.”
Then she moves over me, slow, confident, every inch of her body hovering close enough to drive me insane but still holding that control between us. And I’m loving her for it.
My hands find her instinctively—her waist, her ass, the curve of her sides—unable to stop myself from touching her, from feeling her.
“You gonna sit on my cock, baby?” I murmur, voice rough.
“Yes,” she breathes, softer now, steadier. “I am.”
And fuck—that does something to me.
I smile, drugged with need. “Grab the condom from my jeans, yeah?”
She smirks, moving to the side and opening her nightstand drawer. “I’ve had these stocked for days now. Mission ‘Lose virginity’ was an elaborate plan.”
I smile up at her, completely gone for this woman. “You did, huh?”
She nods eagerly.
I quickly roll one on, and she positions herself above me.
“Take however much you can. Don’t rush it.”
She swallows hard. “Feels like I’m using you for your dick.”
I look at her, gaze intense. “Then use me. I’m yours, Charlotte.”
There’s no rush after that. No urgency that isn’t chosen. Just slow, deliberate movement as she descends on my cock. Her pussy swallowing it inch by delicious inch.
Then she takes me in, fully. Dropping on my chest with a sharp gasp.
I groan, teeth gritting. “You okay, my love?”
She nods against my chest. Her hips moving agonizingly slowly.
My hands stay with her the entire time. Guiding when she needs it. Holding when she falters. Letting her set the pace even when it nearly breaks me to stay still.
“Fuck, you’re fucking perfect,” I whimper when her pace increases.
Our gasps—quiet, broken sounds slip between us as we find a rhythm that isn’t about desperation anymore, but about trust.
About her choosing this.
“Feel… so fucking… full,” she breathes out.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur against her skin, voice unsteady. “I’ve got you, my love…”
We kiss feverishly as she moves above me, her pace easing up.
Carefully, almost hesitantly, I take over—digging my heels into the mattress.
She relaxes into me, melting completely while burrowing her face into my neck. I hold her close, thrusting into her with slow, measured strokes.
Then I slip my hand between our writhing, slick bodies. Teasing her clit as I push her over the edge one more time.
When she finally lets go—really lets go—it wrecks me. The way she trembles. The way she clings. The way her breath breaks against my skin while she’s coming all over my cock.
I follow her, unable to hold back when her walls pulse around my cock. My grip tightening as I bury my face against her shoulder.
“I love you,” I blurt out, grunting, still in the throes of the most intense release of my life. “God, Charlotte, I fucking love you.”
She leans back, looking at me with a soft smile. And I know she has somehow started to believe it.
An hour later, she’s still wrapped around me. Like she never quite let go.
Her head rests over my heart, her cheek pressed to my chest, one arm draped lazily across my stomach like she fell asleep mid-thought.
I don’t move. Don’t dare move.
My fingers trace slow, absent patterns along her back, just enough to feel her—just enough to remind myself she’s real. That this isn’t some fucked-up dream I’m going to wake up from any second.
Strands of her hair spill across my chest, tickling my skin. A few lay over her flushed cheek, and I finally get to tuck them behind her ear—my fingers lingering for just a second too long.
Then I press a soft kiss to her forehead, still somewhat baffled that she chose this. Chose me. And I swear to God, I’ll spend the rest of my life being worthy of that.
I’m about to drift off when she stirs slightly, snuggling closer with a soft, needy whimper.
Fuck it. I’m getting a ring.
Very, very soon.