Chapter 27
Charlie
The door slams shut, Mateo facing away from me, and I push against his back with the force of my body so he launches forward.
He releases a yelp but flies onto the bed.
Right where I want him.
I catapult myself, colliding with him and pinning him beneath my weight.
“What are you—”
I cut him off with a sloppy kiss.
It’s a desperate action, one I’ve been waiting for all day, since the last time I kissed him. In front of everyone. In my fervor, I smooched the shit out of him, offering the crew a free show, and I’ve yet to regret it.
Truthfully, it was freeing, like one of the barriers holding me back crashed down.
“Seducing you,” I respond, trailing my hands up his torso as I straddle him. My hip joint pops, the sound echoing, but Mateo’s laugh—deep, throaty, and doing wicked things to my vagina— drowns it out.
His hands fall on the globes of my ass, pulling me down and onto his erection.
I can’t stop the shuddered breath that escapes at the feel of him.
“What’s the date?” Mateo asks, mid-kiss.
Who the fuck cares what day it is? He needs to take his pants off.
“Why?”
“You’re ovulating.”
I try to scramble off his lap, but he holds me firmly in place with one hand.
“How on earth do you know that?”
He scrubs at the back of his neck, his cheeks deepening to mirror a bloody-belly comb jelly.
“Carino.”
His head snaps up at the nickname. “Well…” He gulps. “I didn’t figure it out on purpose.”
“I would hope not,” I mutter.
“But I started to notice you would make this odd groaning sound. It’s not like your normal groaning, but more…caveman-like.” He mimics the sound, which is awful yet accurate. My period cramps are horrible, even with pain medication. “I connected the dots after a few months.”
“And you uncovered when I’m ovulating…”
“Your cycle is very regular. Twenty-eight days. Like clockwork. I can do the math.” I’m staring at him like a gaping fish. His face blanches. “I just inadvertently admitted something incredibly creepy.”
“ So creepy,” I confirm, kissing him again.
I should be more bothered by his mapping of my menstrual cycle, but he’s hard beneath me, and it’s difficult to think about anything but him.
“You’re obsessed with me,” I tease, grinding my hips against him.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes.” The conviction in the single word nearly topples me. But he doesn’t stop. “Maybe it’s creepy, but I haven’t been able to keep you out of my thoughts.”
He has no idea how obsessive I was with him. Well, with crushing him. But it was still incredibly concerning how much space he consumed in my mind.
“I’m going to ignore the fact you’ve memorized my menstrual cycle and, instead, focus on this .”
I grab his cock over his trousers, and he twitches beneath my palm. I squeeze and he groans. It’s a desperate, raw sound.
“You’re playing with fire,” he grits out. “Can you handle the consequences?”
Leaning down, I steal another kiss, reveling in the scrape of his scruff against my cheeks.
His question opens a door in my mind I’ve firmly kept shut.
Sex has always been a means to an end for me.
A way to scratch an itch and move on. It’s not the same with Mateo.
With him, I want to explore —to try all the things I’ve wanted to but never trusted anyone enough.
Mateo uses my silence as his opportunity to rebalance the scales, and he flips me over, pinning my hands over my head. I buck my hips, but he presses his knee between my thighs, keeping me pinned to the bed.
My heart pounds in my throat, and the pulsing in my core matches the timing.
“Want to know what I think?” He hums, grazing his thumb against the inside of my wrist.
I can only nod.
“I think you want someone else to take control.” His grip tightens, and his words strike true. The corner of his lips tips up. “Am I right?”
My core clenches in response, but words are lost on my tongue. I manage a nod, and Mateo’s pupils burst.
Fuck .
He drops his head to whisper in my ear. “Safe word?”
My mind blanks, and I scramble for a word—one I won’t accidentally say. The first thing that pops into my mind is “Agarose.”
Mateo’s face blanks for a split second before he lets out a roaring laugh, his grip loosening on my wrists. “Agarose?”
I nod as he pulls air into his lungs.
“All right, then. If you want to stop, that’s the word.”
He releases me and rises. Anticipation tingles my skin as I crawl to the edge of the bed and wait for him to do something. I’ve given him the control I’ve held on to for years with a white-knuckle grip. Instead, he stands and watches me, scorching a path along my skin.
He’s possessive—consuming—as he assesses me.
“Strip for me.” Mateo falls into the desk chair, leans back, and spreads his thighs. It’s a cocky, confident move, and it’s hard not to focus on how his dick begs for freedom, straining against his zipper. He drags his palm against himself, and I watch him beneath my lashes.
He wears that infuriatingly smug smile, the one that sets my blood on fire.
My chest heaves, battling to draw in a full breath, as I strip off my socks. I dangle them in my grip and toss them at Mateo.
“Actions have consequences,” he purrs.
That’s the idea.
My shirt is next, and I allow it to flutter to the floor before shimmying out of my pants. All that’s left is the painfully boring underwear I packed for the trip.
I didn’t anticipate having to strip for Mateo, so all I’ve got are worn-down bras and granny panties that have seen better days. I’m frowning at the small hole in my crotch—super attractive—when Mateo clears his throat.
“Everything.”
All thoughts of ancient undergarments fly away with the look on his face.
With zero grace, I pull the sports bra over my head and immediately sigh in relief. Mateo chuffs as I fling it away.
Goodbye, boob prison.
I slip off my underwear, and then I’m standing bare before him.
It was not a graceful seduction or a striptease, which I realize now as I’m standing naked as the day I was born.
Whoops.
“All done,” I say awkwardly, filling the silence.
I’m not sure what to do with my limbs, and I’m not used to standing naked in front of someone, so I begin to squirm. He lounges in the chair, stroking himself over his zipper. He lifts a finger and beckons me forward.
I shuffle in front of him, bouncing from one foot to the other. Not because I’m naked, which is the typical cause, but because I have no idea what’s about to happen, and it sets me on edge.
An anticipatory type of edge, but the silence hangs heavily.
He draws me into his lap, exploring the curve of my waist, and the rough texture of his calluses scrapes against my skin.
“I want you to say your affirmations,” he whispers, and my heart drops. “The ones you tell yourself in the mirror. I want to hear them.”
His hands continue to explore as I blink at him like a deer in headlights. Those aren’t things he’s supposed to hear—words I whisper to myself every morning in hopes they’ll stick one day.
“Did you forget them?” he asks playfully, dragging his thumb along the seam of my lips. “I’ll help you. I am smart. What’s next?”
“I am kind,” I croak. He nods, urging me on. “I am beautiful. I am hard-working. I am deserving. I am not broken.”
My voice cracks on the last word, and Mateo seals the affirmation with a probing kiss.
“Good. One more time.”
I repeat them, but again, my voice cracks on the last one, because even though I’m saying the words, I don’t fully believe them .
“Again.”
He peppers soft, tender kisses along my neck and down my collarbone as I repeat the words, staring back at myself in the mirror along the wall.
My skin is blotchy, and I barely recognize the woman reflected back to me.
I continue the affirmations, and this time when I say the last phrase, my voice is steady.
He tips my chin.
“You are not broken, Charlie,” he declares, and I try to avert my gaze, but his grip is firm. “Not to me.”
I nod, words lodged in my throat. He takes my mouth in a heated embrace, his tongue trailing along the seam of my lips. A demand for entry.
I give it to him, and he guides the kiss deeper. The pressure in my core builds, and I grind my hips against him, ignoring the slight burn in my joints.
The power disparity between us right now is not something I thought I would ever offer someone. Even though he’s fully clothed, I’ve never felt more balanced or secure with another person.
When we break apart, I’m struggling for breath.
“On your knees, bruja.” I drop to the floor with zero hesitation. “Take me out,” he commands, voice edged with lust. With shaky hands, I unbutton his pants and free his erection. A small bead of precum forms, and I wrap my fingers around the base, squeezing lightly. “Now suck.”
I slowly work him into my mouth, adjusting to his size. His fingers tangle in my hair, loosening my braid as he guides me farther down his shaft. He’s gentle yet demanding as he pushes me deeper until I’m at the base.
I force back a gag, and he swipes away the hair that’s fallen around my face.
“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock. ”
I’ve never been more turned on than I am right now—him holding me with his cock down my throat. I’m fully at his mercy, but I look up at him under hooded lashes, and the truth slams into me.
There’s no one I trust more than Mateo.
Not now.
It was always Amy.
She was the one person I could trust, but that’s shifted, and he’s taken first place.
Mateo releases my hair, and I pull in a gasp of air before taking him again and twirling my tongue around the head. He groans, and the sound spurs me onward, alternating between licking and sucking until his thighs are trembling beneath me.
“Oh, shit,” Mateo mutters, pulling me off him. He’s more disheveled than when we began, and victory soars through my veins. I fucking love when he looks undone. “You’re very good at that.” His praise causes my cheeks to burn.
Mateo doesn’t miss the response, so he says it again, and my cheeks flame deeper.