Chapter 13
COLTON
After we ate, I was adamant about cleaning up while Charlotte prepared for bed.
It didn’t take long for me to hear the shower cut off, and when she returned to the living room with a towel twisted around her wet hair, my gaze unintentionally tracked up her frame.
She wore a silk camisole set that teased me to approach and feel the soft fabric, to run the thin material between my fingers and dig beneath.
As if I weren’t overheating enough, my focus caught on a single drop of moisture that escaped down the valley between her breasts, which nearly had me hyperventilating.
I abruptly cleared my throat and averted my gaze. You fucking pervert.
Charlotte had invited me into her safe haven, and she was one of the kindest souls I’d ever met. And there I was fucking thirsting over her after she had opened her home to me. You’re not a dirty, rotten pig with no morals like your father! Get your shit together, Colt!
The mini pep talk helped somewhat… until light fingertips skirted along my forearm, dragging me back down.
“The shower’s free,” she said, all innocent. I jolted out of reach and raced inside the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Why am I such a damn weirdo?
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, layering on a serious expression. I had to take advantage of the solitary reprieve and recalibrate my hormones, starting with an ice-cold shower.
There was no way I could fuck Charlotte, despite every cell in my body screaming out for hers. I can’t.
When I finally found the courage to re-enter the common area, Charlotte had set her couch up into a makeshift bed for me. With a yawn and a tired goodnight, she left me to my devices, returning to her bedroom.
Flopping down on the sofa, I was already overheating. Ripping off my black singlet, I remained in my grey sweatpants, tossing and turning for a comfortable position, which seemed impossible.
It wasn’t the couch itself, though it was slightly too short, but the cushions were soft and snug. It was my mind that was the problem. Despite the time striking 2 a.m. and my bone-deep exhaustion, all I could ruminate on was the negative.
Mum. Dad. Eloise. Nikita.
Why can’t I go back in time when everything was simple, when I didn’t have these extra burdens weighing me down?
I missed being loved unconditionally. I missed the feeling of being vulnerable and freely giving myself to someone. I missed the concrete belief of placing my trust in another and knowing I was protected and safe with them.
Just before I could fully be consumed in a depressing spiral, someone called my name. That singular voice pulled me back. I was unsure if it was my saviour or my demise, but I didn’t care.
“Colton?” she whispered again, closer than before. That’s when I made out her silhouette at the end of the sofa, waiting for my response.
“I-I might be overstepping here,” Charlotte said hesitantly. “But tonight, I don’t want to be alone. And I think you might feel the same?”
I sat upright, placing my feet steady on the floor, making sure it wasn’t a dream and was, in fact, reality.
With one simple action from her, I held no will to resist and responded in kind. Charlotte offered up her hand in the still night, and I took it.
We cuddled in her bed, wrapped up in one another, chest to chest, not saying a word. The pressure to converse wasn’t there.
Our acceptance felt innate, as if coming together was the most natural thing in the world.
Minutes ticked by, and our breathing evened out, chests syncing in harmony to mimic a place of calm. And just when I thought Charlotte had fallen asleep, she surprised me by pressing a light kiss to the hollow of my neck, as if asking for permission.
I pulled back to catch her eyes, ensuring I wasn’t reading the cues wrong.
She couldn’t know how desperate I was for her. How close I was to breaking that last barrier and going on the attack.
Everything she did was like an aphrodisiac that rewired my brain chemistry; her small hands that ran down my bare back, her smooth, toned legs entangled with mine, the jasmine scent that permeated her room and skin, her wavy brown hair that I couldn’t help but run my fingers through.
I was fucking done for before we even made it to her bed. To have her looking at me in the silent hours, imploring with need, it finally clicked. I never stood a chance.
“Charlotte, I don’t want to be alone either,” I murmured, both in reverence and want, giving back her words, infusing them with power.
And with my confession spoken aloud, we came together, unhurried and unrushed. She pitched her head upwards while I tilted down, our lips and tongues connecting in a slow embrace of lust and necessity.
We took our time, savouring each touch and every subtle caress. I stripped Charlotte of her silk garments, my breath catching when I found her bare beneath. She responded in kind, her lips tracing a line down my throat as she removed my sweats.
We leisurely kissed, stroked and teased, our desire twisting together to make a dangerous concoction. It was sensual, deep, euphoric.
Her soft skin, sensitive nipples and writhing body had me keyed up and turned on like I’d never been before. I was addicted to her sighs, hooked on her gasps and obsessed with her calling my name as if she needed me to survive.
I wasn’t faring any better.
As I shifted on top of her, Charlotte pulled me in tighter, as if I’d never be close enough.
All thoughts banished when she sucked my tongue between her plump, luscious lips and ran her fingers through my hair possessively.
And when she grasped around my base and led my rigid cock to her dripping wet entrance, my lungs seized.
Mere breathing was difficult and no longer a necessity for survival, which was purely reduced to the woman beneath me.
Then my brave girl grabbed my attention by staring directly into my eyes, and said, “I’m clean and am on birth control… Do you trust me?”
“Fuck, angel… I think you’re the only person I do. I’m clean as well. Do you trust me?”
She smiled then, her signature dazzling smile that hit me square in the fucking chest. While I tried to recover from her full-frontal assault, she tilted her hips up and took control, accepting the head of my shaft inside her.
I’d never gone bareback with anyone, unable to give up that level of control and trust after so much disloyalty. However, as Charlotte fully accepted me into her body and enveloped my length in her warm, wet core, I knew I’d never get over her. She had changed me on a fundamental level.
All my previous reservations came rushing back and were soon decimated in turn. I was being vulnerable and freely giving myself to someone—an individual who was truly worthy.
In Charlotte, I had the concrete belief that I could give her my trust, and she would protect and keep it secure.
We weren’t just fucking; we were making love.
As that realisation hit, she screamed out and bit into my shoulder, her inner walls clenching around my throbbing cock, tipping me into climax right alongside her.
As we came down from our high, we kissed and kissed and kissed, still connected in the most carnal way. I wanted to stay like that forever.
Soon, my chest tightened from the monumental revelation, my heart straining against the constricting hold. “I can’t breathe, angel. I can’t breathe…” Yet I didn’t stop sipping from her mouth.
And with her lips sealed to mine, she said, “Don’t worry, Colt. I’ll breathe for the both of us.”