Chapter Three
Charlotte:
My feet are moving so fast they’re practically tripping over each other.
I don’t dare look back. I can’t. The shame is too overwhelming, a hot, suffocating blanket smothering me.
I just want to get back to the safety of Grandma’s house, to lock the door and crawl into bed and pretend this morning never happened.
Except... I don’t want to pretend. That’s the problem.
Every nerve in my body is still singing from the feel of Noah’s mouth on my breast, the rough drag of his tongue against my nipple, the possessive way he held me.
It was the most intensely erotic experience of my entire life, and it was born from what I consider my most shameful secret.
I’m such an idiot. I probably scared him off for good.
The thought sends a fresh wave of humiliation through me.
I was so lost in the pleasure, in him, that I lost all control, grinding against him like some kind of cat in heat.
It must have been so weird for him. He was just trying to be a Good Samaritan, helping me with my little leaking problem, and I turned it into something sordid and wanton.
I finally make it to my front porch, my bare feet smarting on the sun-warmed wooden planks. I’m fumbling for my keys, my one arm still clamped awkwardly across my naked chest, when I hear them.
Footsteps. Rapid, determined, pounding up the path behind me.
My heart seizes in my chest. Before I can even think to turn, a hand closes around my upper arm.
Not hard, but firm. Unmistakable. A gasp escapes my lips as I’m pulled around, and I come face to face with Noah.
He’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, and those dark chocolate eyes of his are full of something I can’t decipher. Concern? Frustration?
“Charlotte,” he says, and his voice is still that low, rough rumble that makes my knees weak. “Why did you run?”
The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with accusation. I can’t meet his gaze, my eyes fixed instead on the frantic thump of the pulse in his throat. “I... I didn’t,” I stammer, then immediately contradict myself. “I mean, I just... I needed to go.”
“Why?” he presses, his thumb stroking over my skin, a small, distracting gesture that sends sparks shooting down my arm. “Did I do something wrong? Did I do something to you that you didn’t want?”
My head snaps up at that. “No! God, no. Of course not. It wasn’t like that at all.” The words rush out of me, tumbling over each other in my haste to reassure him. The thought that he might think he’d forced me, or hurt me, is even more awful than the shame.
“Then what was it?” He takes a step closer, crowding me, his powerful presence engulfing me. He’s so big, so overwhelmingly male. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, and liquid heat pools between my thighs in response. I try to ignore it, to stamp it down.
“Because,” I whisper, the confession feeling like it’s being ripped from my soul.
“Because if I stayed, I was going to want more. I was going to beg you for more. And I know you wouldn’t want that.
You were just... helping. And I...” I trail off, my face burning with humiliation.
“I’ve already made a complete fool of myself.
I should just go inside and hide until summer’s over and it’s time for me to go back to the city. ”
My hands are shaking as I turn and fumble with the doorknob. I just need to get inside. Away from him. Away from the scent of him and the look in his eyes that’s making me feel things I have no business feeling.
But I don’t make it.
A strong arm bands around my waist, pulling me back against a wall of solid muscle.
But then he’s turning me around, backing me up against the wooden porch railing, his body pressing flush against mine, pinning me in place.
I’m trapped. But the funny thing is, I don’t feel scared.
I don’t feel threatened. All I feel is an undeniable, throbbing ache of arousal.
“Don’t you dare,” he growls, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. His breath is hot, sending shivers cascading down my spine. “Don’t you dare think for one second that I don’t want you.”
I’m so stunned I can’t speak. I can only stand there, my heart hammering inside my chest.
“All those things you think I wouldn’t want?
” he continues, his voice low and dangerous against my skin.
“I’ve been dreaming about them. Ever since you moved in next door.
I’ve thought about kissing those soft, sweet lips of yours.
I’ve thought about touching every single inch of your skin.
I’ve thought about fucking you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a week. ”
His words are crude, filthy, and they send a gush of wetness to my core. My whole body is humming with need.
“But that’s not all, Charlotte,” he says, and there’s something in his tone now, something deeper, more intense.
“I’ve thought about what it would be like to go to sleep every single night with you in my arms, and to wake up every single morning with your body wrapped around mine.
I’ve thought about how much I want to put a baby in you.
How I want to watch you grow big and round with my child, a part of me growing inside you.
I want to spend the rest of my life with you, filling you with one baby after another, so that you’ll always, always know that you belong to me. ”
He pulls back just enough to look me in the eye, and what I see in their depths steals my breath. He looks deadly serious. He looks… hungry.
“Tell me, Charlotte,” he says, his voice a ragged whisper. “Are any of those things I’ve been dreaming of for the last two weeks the things you want with me?”
My mind is reeling. Marriage? Babies? A lifetime with this man? It’s insane. We’ve known each other for two weeks. I’m only twenty-one. But when he looks at me like that, when he says those words, it doesn’t feel insane. It feels… inevitable.
My own wants seem so small in comparison to the grand future he’s just laid out for me. “I... all I’ve been thinking about,” I admit in a small, shaky voice, “is how much I want to give my virginity to you. But... all that other stuff sounds... really good too.”
A guttural sound escapes him. Something between a groan and a growl.
And then his hands are moving. His fingers are deft, unerringly finding the button of my denim shorts.
The soft pop of it coming undone echoes in the sudden stillness of the morning.
He drags the zipper down, the sound loud and obscene in the quiet air.
I don’t protest. I can’t. I don’t want to.
I’m frozen, caught in the gravity of his desire.
He pushes the fabric down over my hips, past my thighs, letting it pool around my ankles.
I’m completely naked on my front porch, exposed to the morning sun, to him.
His gaze sweeps over me, hot and possessive. He slides one long, calloused finger between my thighs, through the slick folds of my pussy. The touch is electric, and a choked gasp tears from my throat. I’m so wet, so ready for him, and the knowledge that he can feel it makes my face burn.
“Is it true, Charlotte?” he asks, his voice a gravelly rasp against my ear. “Is it true that no other man has ever been here? That I’m the first?”
I can only manage a jerky nod. “Yes,” I breathe. “It’s true. You’re the first. The only one to ever touch me there.”
He makes that growling sound again, a deep, primal noise of pure satisfaction.
“Good,” he grits out, his finger moving, sliding through my wetness again, circling my clit in a way that makes my legs tremble.
“Because you were made for me. This pretty little pussy,” he says, pressing the heel of his hand against my mound, “belongs to me. And me alone.”
I can’t stop the moan that spills from my lips.
My hips move of their own accord, rocking against his hand, seeking more of the friction, more of the pleasure he’s so effortlessly giving me.
The rational part of my brain is screaming at me that this is insane, that we’re on my front porch where anyone could see, but I don’t care.
All that matters is him, and the way he’s touching me, and the words he’s saying that I know I should be shocked by but aren’t.
“You know the saying,” he murmurs, his breath hot on my neck. “I licked it, so it’s mine.” He pauses, letting the words sink in, and heat washes over me, so potent it makes me dizzy. “So I’d better give this sweet cunt a good lick to make sure my claim is secure.”
Before I have a chance to fully process the filth he’s just whispered to me, he’s moving.
His hands are on my hips, and in one fluid, powerful motion, he’s turning me around.
I’m facing the wooden railing now, my hands flying out to grip the top rail to steady myself.
The wood is warm and slightly rough against my palms. He bends me over it, the position pushing my bare ass up, exposing me completely to him.
I hear the soft thud of him dropping to his knees behind me, and my breath catches in my throat.
I risk a glance around, my eyes scanning the quiet street, the path leading down to the lake.
It’s all clear. Of course it is. It’s barely past seven in the morning on a weekday, and our two houses are the only ones around for miles.
We’re completely alone. Still, the thrill of it, the risk, makes my heart pound frantically against my ribs.
And then I feel it. The wet, hot press of his tongue against my folds.
“Oh God,” I gasp, my knuckles turning white as I grip the railing tighter.
He doesn’t hesitate. He licks a long, slow stripe from my clit all the way back to my entrance, and my entire body shudders in response.
He does it again, and again, a slow, deliberate exploration that is driving me absolutely insane.
He’s not in a hurry. He’s savoring this, savoring me.
My taste. And I’ve never experienced anything like it.
He spreads me open with his thumbs, giving himself better access, and then he’s devouring me. His tongue is everywhere, swirling around my clit, dipping inside me, fucking me with it. The sounds are obscene, wet, sloppy, and I can feel my face burning with a mixture of embarrassment and pure need.
“Please,” I whimper, not even sure what I’m begging for. More? Faster? Both?
He gives me what I want anyway. He seals his lips around my clit and sucks, hard.
A sharp cry escapes my lips as pleasure explodes through me, white-hot and intense.
My back arches, and I have to fight to keep my knees from buckling.
He doesn’t let up, his tongue working against the sensitive bundle of nerves while he keeps sucking, pushing me higher and higher.
Oh God. I’m so close, so incredibly close. I’m teetering on the edge, and I know it’s only a matter of seconds before I fall.
“Come for me, Charlotte,” he growls against my pussy, the vibrations of his deep voice only adding to all the intense sensations.
And then he’s suckling my clit again, and I fall over the edge.
The orgasm that crashes over me is overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure that steals my breath and makes my vision white out.
I try to muffle my cries, burying my face against my arm, but it’s no use.
The pleasure is too intense to be contained.
My body shakes and convulses as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over me, my knuckles white as I grip the railing for dear life.
He doesn’t stop. He keeps licking and sucking at my clit, drawing out my orgasm until he’s pulled every bit of pleasure from me that he can. When he finally pulls away, my legs are shaking so badly it feels like they’re made of jelly.
He stands up behind me, and I feel the hard, thick length of his cock pressing against me through his shorts. I whimper loudly as I realize what’s coming next.
“You see what you do to me, Charlotte?” he asks, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “You’ve been driving me insane since the day you moved in. Every thought I’ve had has been about you. About this.”
He shifts slightly, and then I hear the rustling of fabric as he pulls his shorts down.
My heart pounds against my ribs as he frees himself.
He runs the head of his cock through my slick folds, coating himself in my wetness.
The feeling is exquisite, and I can’t stop myself from pushing back against him, wanting more.
“It’s time for me to claim you, Charlotte,” he growls in my ear. “Time for me to take your virginity and leave your womb flooded with my seed so I can get you pregnant as quickly as possible.”
I know it’s crazy to be thinking about babies. But as he says the words, I know with every fiber of my being that it’s what I want. I want to belong to him. I want to have his babies.
“Please,” I beg, my voice a choked sob. “Make me yours. Fill me up with your cock. With your cum. Please, Noah.”
With a growl, he lines himself up with my entrance.
He pushes forward, and I feel the head of his cock start to stretch me.
He’s so big, so much bigger than I ever imagined.
I cry out as a sharp, stinging pain shoots through me, and he pushes deeper, breaking through my barrier.
He doesn’t stop, pushing into me in one slow, steady thrust until he’s buried to the hilt.
I grit my teeth, breathing through the pain as my body adjusts to his size.
He’s so deep inside me, I feel like I’m being split in two.
But then, the pain starts to fade, replaced by a deep, throbbing ache of pleasure.
I’m so full of him, and it feels incredible.
I can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips as I begin to squirm on his cock, trying to move even though my hips are pressed flush against the wooden railing.
“Tell me you’re ready,” he growls in my ear. “Tell me you’re ready for me to breed you.”
“I’m ready,” I gasp, my voice breathy with need. “God, Noah.”
“Then hold on tight, sweetheart,” he says. And with that, he begins to move.