7. Ana
7
Ana
T hinking about Charlie and the night before had me turned on all morning. Every touch, every word echoed in my mind, driving me crazy. I wanted him so badly and I knew I was going to give in; there was no denying it. I already was giving in. His need brought something out in me, something I hadn’t felt in years—perhaps something I’d never felt before.
It was clear I had him completely wrapped around my finger during our call. The way he hung onto every word, how easily he surrendered to my commands—it was thrilling but also a little frightening. I could feel his desire, heavy and consuming, and it was almost suffocating in its depth.
Yet beneath that rush was a flicker of doubt. How long could I keep this going without getting tangled up in his desire to please me? Or worse—without getting tangled up in him ?
I was playing with fire and I knew it. But the thrill overshadowed everything else. Right now, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him.
* * *
I tried to push my thoughts about Charlie aside all day and focus on my responsibilities. I spent hours organizing a charity event for a local women and children’s shelter, sifting through endless emails, and juggling multiple Zoom meetings for the various organizations I was involved in.
As the day wound down, my phone buzzed—Charlie.
Let me cook you dinner tonight. At your place.
I stared at the message, feeling torn. Part of me wanted to say yes, but I knew it wasn’t fair to keep letting him in when I wasn’t sure where things were going.
Not tonight, Charlie. I’m just going to relax on my own.
A minute later, his response came.
You can still relax. I’ll handle everything. Just let me do this for you.
I sighed, my guilt surfacing. Was I leading him on? I kept him at arm’s length, but I kept pulling him a little closer with each interaction.
I don’t think it’s a good idea tonight. I just need some space.
There was a pause before his next message came through.
Okay, I get it. I won’t push.
The sound of defeat in his response made me pause. He wasn’t fighting for it this time, and that left an unexpected void. I should’ve felt relieved, but instead, something inside me softened. He wasn’t demanding, wasn’t pushing any further, and that made me reconsider.
I sat there for a few minutes in silence. The thought of sitting alone all night suddenly felt heavier than before. Maybe a quiet dinner with Charlie wouldn’t be so bad after all . Before I could overthink it, I picked up my phone and responded.
You know what…dinner sounds nice.
I hesitated, then added: Come over in an hour. I included my address and even gave him the code for the elevator.
Ay, this is such a bad idea. The thought of Charlie being here, in my space, was both exciting and scary. I could feel the anticipation building in my chest, and as much as I wanted to convince myself this was just a casual dinner, deep down I knew better. I knew what would eventually happen, and dios mio , I wanted it again so badly.
The way he made me feel…it was overwhelming, thrilling, and completely out of control. And as much as I tried to tell myself that keeping distance was the smart thing to do, I couldn’t resist the pull any longer.
I tossed my phone onto the couch and stood up, pacing the living room. I absentmindedly straightened the pillows, tucked stray books into a neat pile, and wiped invisible smudges off the kitchen counter. Why am I cleaning? The place is fine .
And then doubt crept in once again. Was I making a huge mistake? Again? My mind raced, replaying every moment we shared. I wasn’t ready for this. I started to get irritated—I hated that I was second-guessing myself like this. I hated that this all felt out of control.
I grabbed my phone, my thumb hovering over the screen. Maybe I should tell him not to come.
I hesitated, biting my lip as I started to type out the text. But before I could press send, there was a knock at the door, startling me; he was twenty minutes early.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, eyeing the subtle makeup I applied earlier, and the way my hair fell around my face in soft, natural waves. I nodded at myself, trying to calm the nerves twisting in my stomach. For some reason, this felt different, more nerve-wracking than any of our other encounters. Was it because he was coming into my space? Or because deep down, I already knew what was going to happen tonight?
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. The second knock at the door seemed louder in the quiet of the apartment, and I couldn’t ignore the excitement I felt. I was walking straight into this, and there was no turning back now.
I opened the door and found Charlie standing on the other side, holding a grocery bag in one hand and a beautiful, trailing plant in the other. His eyes lit up as soon as he saw me, a gentle smile spreading across his face.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, his voice soft and warm.
“Hi,” I replied, stifling a little school-girl giggle that threatened to escape. I stepped back, motioning for him to come in.
He took in the surroundings as I closed the door behind us, his gaze roaming over the space as he walked in. But soon enough, his attention shifted back to me, his grin soft but knowing. “This place is very you.”
I nearly responded with you hardly know me , but I stopped myself. The truth was, in some ways, it felt like he knew me all too well—more than I was comfortable admitting.
“So, what are you making me? And what’s that?” I asked, glancing at the plant he had just set down on the coffee table in the middle of the living room.
“It’s a string of hearts. I saw you eyeing my plant collection and figured I’d add to yours,” he said sweetly.
Butterflies swarmed around in my belly and I couldn’t help but smile at his gesture. “Thank you,” I said softly.
Charlie’s grin widened, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. “You’re welcome,” he replied. “And dinner is a surprise. Why don’t you sit down and relax, and I’ll take care of it?”
I could see the need for approval in his eyes, the quiet vulnerability beneath his confidence.
I didn’t protest. I walked further into the living room and settled onto the couch, watching him confidently move through my kitchen cabinets like he belonged there. There was something about the way he carried himself—comfortable, but still seeking my approval in small, unspoken ways. The quiet domesticity of it all made the butterflies stir again, though I tried to push the feeling down. It felt like he belonged there with me, and that thought alone scared me.
“Any allergies I should know of?” he asked, pulling items from the bag while catching me watching him.
I shook my head. “Sloane’s vegetarianism rubbed off on me, but otherwise, I’m good.”
He paused, a look of surprise on his face. “I’m vegetarian as well.”
I wasn’t surprised. Charlie didn’t seem like he could hurt a fly. He glanced at me for a moment longer before softly saying, “I didn’t expect this, you know…finding things in common with you.” His voice was calm, but there was a hint of something deeper there. “It’s nice.”
He smiled, but the way his eyes lingered on me made my heart skip a beat. I had to look away. He could be so intense, which felt so different from how he naturally submitted to me. It was like he carried two sides of himself—the vulnerability that let me take control, and this deep, simmering intensity that surfaced when I least expected it.
“So, I’m glad you answered my FaceTime earlier,” he said as he continued on with prepping dinner, his boldness creeping back in.
I shouldn’t have felt so giddy, so nervous about him mentioning what I had initiated in the first place.
“I’m sure you are,” I replied teasingly, trying to mask the flutter of nerves with a playful tone. His eyes flicked to mine, a grin creeping up at the corner of his lips as he caught the shift in my tone.
“You have no idea,” he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to send my heart racing, his English accent driving me insane.
I laughed softly, trying to keep things light, but the sexual tension between us was undeniable. He had a way of pushing just enough to keep me on edge. And now I couldn’t help myself, once again. I needed to gain control back.
I stood, slowly walking over to where he stood at the counter. His eyes followed my every move, anticipation clear on his face. “You like when I take control, don’t you?” I asked quietly, testing the waters.
A slow smile spread across his face. “You know I do,” he replied, his tone laced with desire.
I bit my lip, feeling the tension between us grow. “I’m not hungry for dinner quite yet,” I said, stepping closer. “I think I’d like a taste of what I mentioned earlier.”
His eyes darkened, understanding immediately, his breath catching slightly as I closed the distance between us. The playful banter from moments ago faded, replaced with the heat that now filled the room.
“Why don’t you stop what you’re doing and give me your full attention,” I said quietly yet firmly.
Charlie swallowed hard, his eyes glued to mine, waiting.
“Come here,” I commanded softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the living room.
I walked in front of the couch, then nudged him to sit. Slowly, I sank to my knees, my hands sliding down his thighs. “Stay still, and don’t move unless I tell you to.”
Charlie’s breathing sped, his body tense with anticipation, but he stayed obedient, watching my every move, waiting for what was to come next.
I slid my hands up, feeling his hard cock straining against his jeans, desperate to be freed. Slowly, I ran my hand up and down the length, teasing him with each movement. I smiled as Charlie squirmed under my touch, trying to keep still as I commanded, but clearly struggling with the effort.
“Such a good listener, my sweet boy,” I teased, inching my fingers closer to the zipper of his jeans.
Charlie only nodded as he bit his lower lip, his focus entirely on my eyes. When I unzipped his jeans, my fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling them down slowly. He lifted his hips, silently helping, eager but still obedient to my control.
My hands were back to the length of his cock, still covered by his boxer briefs. The wetness between my thighs begged for me to tear his clothes off and jump on his cock, but I was having too much fun teasing him.
“Your cock is so big. How does it fit so perfectly in my pussy?” I murmured, continuing my slow stroke.
He let out a low grunt. “You’re perfect, mi diosa . Perfect for me in every way,” he murmured back, his voice quiet and intense.
I chuckled, slipping my hand through the front slit of his boxer briefs, watching his reaction as my fingers brushed against the warm flesh of his cock. His brows pulled together and he bit his lip with a quiet, desperate need as I wrapped my fingers around him. He exhaled softly, his mouth parting, and I felt precum beading at the tip. I smiled as I began to stroke gently, pulling his cock out for a better look. I widened my eyes slightly as I opened my mouth and leaned down, licking his precum with the tip of my tongue. I pulled back and closed my mouth, letting my eyes flutter shut.
“Mmm. You’re as tasty as you look,” I said, slowly opening my eyes.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Please, mi diosa .”
“What, baby?” I asked, leaning down further to press my lips against the length of his cock, letting my tongue swirl around as I did so.
“I need you, mi diosa . Please let me kiss you. Please let me taste you,” he begged, watching me intently.
This power was thrilling and I wanted it to last all night. The control over him, the way his body responded to every touch, the way he begged—it gave me a rush that I had never felt before.
“I love when you beg, my sweet boy,” I said quietly, then took one hand to his hair and pulled him toward me, pressing my lips hungrily against his.
I almost lost control as I began to stroke him quickly, feeling his hands explore my body, getting lost in the heat of the moment. But suddenly, I remembered what I was doing, and I pulled back just as quickly as I started. Charlie sat back, breathing heavily, moving his hands back beside him, eyes wide with hunger. He waited silently for my next move. It was then that I removed my hands from him and stood up, backing up a few steps.
“You can continue dinner now,” I said with a teasing smile. The playful air hung between us and I could see the way his hunger shifted from desperation to something darker, but he obeyed, rising to his feet with his dimpled, charming grin.
He let out a low breath. “You have no idea what I’d do for you,” he murmured. He stood up slowly and added, “But for now, I’ll finish dinner, mi diosa .” His eyes lingered on me, as if he was saying much more than his words could convey, before he covered himself back up and walked into the kitchen.