Chapter 30 #2
He steps back for a moment, his deep blue eyes traveling over my ass and up my spine before meeting mine in the mirror.
His stare holds me in place as he unlaces his trousers.
They fall to the floor, briefly catching on his cock.
Of course, it’s enormous. Beautiful. Rock-hard and curved slightly upward.
I want to put my mouth on it. I want him to force me to.
He grips the base of his shaft, then runs his hand along the length, milking a glistening drop from the tip.
I shudder out a whimper, and he smiles, then grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me backward.
The silky heat of him slides against my lower back, along with the brush of his knuckles as he continues to stroke himself.
“Is this what you wanted the other night?”
The noise that slips out of me couldn’t possibly be classified as words in any language. Not only is it hard to answer with my head tipped back, but the throbbing ache coursing through my body has halted all higher-level brain function. I am a being of pure need, pure want.
“You wanted me to fuck you in your tight little cunt? How many times did you make yourself come this week imagining it?”
He cups my sex from behind, coating his hand with my arousal before wrapping it around himself again, stroking faster. “I’ll bet I can guess, based on how wet you are. Was it more than five? More than ten?” A hard, glorious smack on my ass. “Use your fucking words, Charlotte.”
“Thirteen,” I groan out. He lets go of my hair and palms my ass cheeks apart. My legs are pinned together, locked by the pants at my feet and Lachlan’s knees.
“Nasty little queen,” he whispers, then bites his lip ring, brows furrowed in concentration as he stares down at where he’s spreading me. “No more, though. Your orgasms belong to me now.”
The fat head of his cock notches against my slit. He’s huge. Bigger than anyone I’ve been with. Far bigger than George.
He pushes in a little, and I gasp out a sharp breath.
“Shh, shh, shh.” Our gazes snap together in the mirror again, and he nudges my tailbone down, angling my hips so he can sink in farther. Less than an inch.
It burns. It feels incredible.
“Just a little—Fuck, you’re so tight. Does it hurt?” I nod, and he breathes out a raspy chuckle. “I’ll bet it does.” He doesn’t let up; pushes in more. Splitting me apart. Remolding my flesh. Making a place for himself inside my body.
The burn overtakes me and I just … I can’t. I squirm forward, dipping my head against the vanity.
“Almost there,” he whispers, strong hands on my waist pulling me back.
“You said no lies,” I choke out.
He laughs again, dark and rich. “I did say that, didn’t I?” He presses my ass cheeks apart, and it helps a little, makes a tiny bit more room. “But I know what you need.” He sinks deeper. Impossibly deeper. “Even when you lie to me.”
I exhale long and low as his blunt head hits some final barrier inside of me at the same time as the coarse hair on his lower abdomen tickles my flesh.
He pauses for a moment, buried to the hilt, his hands bracketing my waist as his fingers gently stroke my flanks. He’s pulling long, slow breaths in and shakily releasing them. Staring down at where we’re joined. Like this is too much for him, too.
He finds my gaze in the mirror once more. For a moment, the dominant fae beast who has me impaled on his cock disappears and my chivalrous friend is staring at me with gratitude shining in his sapphire eyes. “Is this okay? You’ll tell me if you’re not okay.”
Even though there’s not a sliver of space between our hips and he’s got me pinned to the edge of the vanity, I manage to push back against him ever so slightly. “I’m okay, Lachlan.”
At the sound of his name, he closes his eyes, tips his head back in worship, and begins to move.
He’s slow at first. Glacial retreats and controlled thrusts. Fingers caressing my spine and tangling in my hair. Whispered words of encouragement like gods, look at how beautiful you are and angle your hips up, sweetheart and fuck me, you feel so good.
The praise combined with his masterful strokes have me lost on a sea of bliss that’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Not to mention, I’ve never had sex in this position before. Respectable women do not bend over and let men fuck them like a brood mare.
But god, how incredible it feels to be undignified.
My sex pulses, tiny flutters that grow longer and more intense with each rock of Lachlan’s hips. He’s fisting my hair again, using it to guide my body where it feels best for him. Soon, I’m wracked by a tumultuous wave of pleasure and I’m—
“Already?” He clucks his tongue, like he’s disappointed in me. “That can’t have been satisfying.”
But he’s wrong. It was world-shattering.
And I can’t help it. Nor again when he hooks a hand under my knee and guides my right thigh up onto the vanity.
He curves over my back, blanketing me with heated skin and soft hair and the cool pinprick of his nipple ring.
When he drags out of me and thrusts back in, I can’t control myself, I just can’t, and I come again.
“F-f-fuck,” he groans against my nape, his breaths pulsing in time with my orgasm. “I must be going too easy on you. Wanted to torture you a bit longer. But you’re a greedy, dirty thing, aren’t you? Impatient. Couldn’t wait to soak my cock.”
I should be horrified by the things he’s saying. They’re a bit derogatory. Cruel, even. But I’m a dripping mess, and my body is on fire.
He drags his fangs along my shoulder, still moving inside me. “One more time and then it’s my turn, yeah?”
He finds my clit as he bites down on the soft muscle between my shoulder and my neck, pinning me in place beneath him.
His finger tap, tap, taps a soft, steady rhythm in time with his thrusts, and in seconds I’m coming again.
My breath fogs the mirror until he’s nothing more than a blur of gold and auburn behind me.
I am spent; used up, blissed out and fucked sore, and I think he must be able to tell that my body can’t take any more because he pulls out of me—slowly, gently—then turns me around and pushes me to my knees.
“Open.” His thumb hooks my chin, like he expects to have to force me, but I am so willing to please him that my mouth drops open and my tongue slides over my teeth.
“Good.” His eyes are glazed and full of wonder. As if he’s been waiting centuries to slip the tip of his cock into my mouth.
He cups my chin in one hand as he works himself with the other, his fist brushing against my tongue on every upstroke. He’s towering above me, brows narrowed, lips parted in sheer ecstasy. I’m on my knees, but I’ve never felt more powerful.
His thighs quiver and his stomach tightens. He’s close. I inch my tongue out, ready to take every drop.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Charlotte, I …”
If he intended to say more than that, it’s lost beneath an extended groan of pleasure as I wrap my lips around him and take him deep into my mouth, swallowing everything he gives me.
He cups the back of my head, holding himself steady, and this is all I want to do every night for as long as I’m able, whether the monarchy or death awaits me.
Once he’s expended himself, he lifts me from the floor and settles me on the vanity, nestling between my spread legs.
I hook my heels around his hard, perfect ass, pulling him into me, and then he’s kissing me again.
Sweetly. Thoroughly. He can surely taste himself in my mouth.
And he’s right, I am greedy, because I could go again this instant.
He closes his eyes, then touches his forehead to mine, unraveled. “Are you alright? I wasn’t too rough? Or too mean?”
I whisper shyly, “I like it when you’re mean. In this context.”
He cradles my cheek, laughing. “Do you?”
I nuzzle into his hand, nodding.
Now it’s his turn to be shy. A bit unbelievable after everything he just did to me. But his blush returns as he mutters, “Do you want to … I mean, we could … My bed is a little less treacherous than yours if you’d like to stay with me tonight.”
There’s nothing I want more right now. Which is exactly why I can’t.
“Better not,” I say, a gentle rejection.
He dips his chin once, sharply, then looks away. As if he’s berating himself for asking. “Yes, of course.” He swipes my pajamas from the bathroom floor, then helps me off the vanity and back into them before sliding his long legs into his trousers.
“This is just sex, right?” I say to him. To us both, really. “An indulgence. It can’t ever be more than that.”
“Worried you’ll fall in love with me, little queen?” he smirks.
Yes. God, yes. But new Charlotte is going to be far more careful about who she gives her heart to.
“You needn’t be,” he says before I can answer. “I know very well how to keep feelings off the table.”
“Right.” Something pinches in my chest. Old Charlotte with her nonsense. “Well, um, thank you for the … ravishing.” What? “Let’s do it again sometime.” What?
He chuckles, one hand gripping the doorframe. His unlaced trousers sit low on his hips, his auburn hair is in disarray, and curse him, he’s biting that damn lip ring again. He scratches his left pectoral, staring at me, looking something much more dangerous than merely charmed.
“Whenever you’d like, Charlotte. Say the word, and I’m yours.”