Chapter Twenty-Three
GAbrIEL
My heart was in my throat as I waited for Charlotte to pull into her driveway.
I should’ve turned around, walked back down the street, gotten into my car, and driven home, pretending nothing had happened.
But I couldn’t. Not after seeing her across the gala floor looking stunning in her dress.
Not after watching another man put his hand at the small of her back like he had a right to.
That had sealed it. I was going off the deep end regardless of the consequences.
Her garage door rumbled open, and she pulled in, headlights cutting across the driveway.
I stayed in the shadows until her car engine cut off.
When the overhead door started to close, I stepped forward, and for one sharp second, our eyes locked through the narrowing gap.
She stopped the door before it could shut me out completely.
“Only to talk,” she relented.
I would’ve agreed to anything to keep from having to leave her presence.
I followed her up the two steps, through the door, and into the house. Every step felt like a trespass, like temptation.
She slipped off her heels and squared her shoulders, the conflicting emotions rolling off of her. As she turned to face me, her arms folded across her chest like armor. “This can’t happen.”
I should’ve agreed. Should’ve said she was right, that we’d both crossed enough lines already. Instead, the words came out low and rough. “Do you want me to leave?”
Her mouth opened, then shut. The silence stretched. I took a step closer. Then another. Until I was close enough that her signature scent wrapped around me, subtle and intoxicating.
“I should,” she breathed, her voice thin with effort.
“But then,” I murmured, my voice rougher than I meant it to be, “we’d never know if this thing between us is real.”
For one suspended heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then she exhaled two simple words, soft and dangerous. “Kiss me.”
The thin thread of control I’d been clinging to snapped clean.
I crashed my mouth to hers, groaning like a man starved too long. Charlotte didn’t disappoint. She met my desperate kiss with one of her own. My hands threaded into her hair, tearing out the pins, and angling her just where I wanted. She let out a sound that made me dizzy.
Fuck, this was better than any fantasy.
I wanted to savor this moment. But we were on borrowed time. Soon the world would press in and remind us of all the reasons this was a bad idea.
Her lips parted, and my tongue swept inside, claiming, tasting, like I’d been dying for this exact moment.
My hands slid down her sides, catching at her hips, dragging her against me so she could feel how far gone I was. She gasped, and the sound tore straight through me, making me harder, more desperate.
I pressed her back against the wall, caging her in, my mouth trailing fire from her jaw to the hollow of her throat. Her skin tasted sweet, and nipped beneath her ear, savoring her sharp inhale.
Her fingers fisted in my shirt, tugging me closer. I nearly lost it when she arched against me. God, she felt too good, with her curves fitting perfectly. Her warmth sank into me like I’d been built for her.
Growling against her collarbone, I pushed the silk of her dress up over her hips giving free license to my hands to slide beneath the material. Soft skin met my palms, hotter than I’d imagined, and when I brushed my thumbs over the edge of her bra, she shivered so hard it nearly undid me.
I spun her around and guided her backward, one step at a time, until we were halfway up the stairs. She stumbled, laughing breathlessly into my mouth.
“Careful,” I muttered against her lips.
The world had shrunk to this stairwell, to the scent of her hair, the scrape of her nails at the back of my neck, and the way she pressed me tighter to her as though she didn’t want any space between us.
My heart thudded. I’d never wanted anyone as much as I wanted her in this moment.
“Charlotte…” My voice cracked on her name, and my forehead dropped to hers. Both of us were breathing hard. My hands grabbed the material of her skirt and bunched it at her waist, allowing her to do the one thing I needed the most. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around my waist.
“Where am I going?”
“To the left at the top of the stairs, first door.”
Once I crossed the threshold of her bedroom, I made quick work of carrying her to the bed. With my mouth fused to hers, I followed her down.
“Fuck, I need to taste you.”
She shivered in response to my words and arched her hips off the bed. This allowed me to hook my thumbs into the sides of her thong and yank it down without ceremony.
Christ. Her pussy was bare. And as soon as I swiped my tongue and got my first taste, I knew it would never be enough.
The sound of her whimper was intoxicating, fueling my desire to have and taste more. Inserting a finger, I found myself growing painfully hard. She was so fucking wet and snug against the pressure.
Her hands clawed against the sheets as I dove in, sucking her clit between my lips. Did I want to put an end to or prolong the torture? I decided on the latter in case this was my last shot at heaven. Having chosen to take my time, I settled in.