I step back. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol, or because I’m chasing the desire of something good, but I feel a confidence I’ve never had before. For the first time in months, I feel clean.
The zipper echoes in the room as I slowly pull it down. “I think we should.”
He groans, his eyes bulging as the dress falls down to my cleavage, showing him I’m not wearing a bra.
Taking a long stride toward me, he places his hands on mine, stopping me. I let go of the dress, so the only thing keeping it up is him and his body. “Charlotte, I’m trying to be the good guy here. Landon will kill me. And are you really ready for this?”
This? I didn’t think I’d ever be ready for sex again. But for him? My body is doing all the answering. It feels right.
I run my hand up his chest, the smoothness of his shirt adding to my arousal. He tenses under my touch, and reaches for my hand, holding it gently in his. “Charlotte, think for a moment, please.”
I blink up at him, feeling tears gather in my eyes. “I want you; this. You’ve made me feel more alive than I have in months. Give me something beautiful, Drew. Give me something to remember, something that isn’t tainted or wrong.”
He growls and pulls away, causing my dress to fall to floor in a puddle at my feet. I squeal when he lifts me up, his fingers digging into my arse.
“Fuck, Landon is going to kill me.”
I reach down, kissing the corner of his mouth. “He never needs to know.”
His eyes darken. “You were never this kind of blunt before,” he comments.
I grin. “I should have told you I get horny when I drink wine.”
He growls, the sound primal and dark. “You had four glasses.”
“I know,” I whisper against his lips, feeling brazen all of a sudden. “And I don’t have my clit vibrator with me.”
“Fuck,” he rasps, and kisses me hard, carrying me over to the bed. I slide my fingers into his hair, reaching for his hair tie. I gently pull it out, letting his hair fall free and wild.
He lies me down on the bed, then steps back, staring down at me with a dark promise in his eyes as he rips his jacket it off, letting it fall to the floor. “I need you to be really sure about this.”
I sit up, not the least bit embarrassed that I’m bare to him, and help him undo his buttons. “I’m really sure. My vagina is sure. My heart is sure.”
And I am. There’s no doubt, no hesitation, no obligation. The alcohol has a lot to answer for but only when it comes to the confidence crawling through me. It has nothing to do with me wanting this. I wanted him before I touched a speck of alcohol, even though I never really admitted it. Now I just want him more.
I undo the buttons on his trousers and, tilting my head up, our gazes lock. It’s that look. That need. It’s blazing down at me. It isn’t just my body he wants.
He wants me.
I lean forward, unable to look away until I have no choice, and lick from his groin to his belly button.
He has a magnificent body. His tattoos shadow one another, merging so they all become one. I make out a skull on his right ribcage, a weeping angel woven into his bicep, and a set of eyes that remind me of a panther on his other. There isn’t an untouched bit of skin. Each design has been carefully woven and etched into his skin, blending from one to the other in wisps of smoke and other markings.
His muscles ripple, like he can physically feel the touch of my gaze. His body isn’t the only reason I find myself attracted to him. Although I can’t pinpoint exactly what that reason is, I know it’s real.
And that alone spurs me on.
He pulls his trousers down and I sit back, my eyes widening. “Holy dick on a stick.”
“Babe,” he murmurs, his lips twitching as he looms over me.
I eye him once again before meeting his gaze. “Wow. You must be popular.”
“Babe, stop talking about my dick.”
“Like, really popular. I know strippers who would be scared to ride that pole.”
He chuckles, resting on his elbows above me. “Babe, really, stop talking about my dick.”
“There’s a lot to talk about.”
“I guess I’ll make you stop,” he rasps, leaning down. He captures my nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around the hard tip.
“That should work,” I groan out.
I arch off the bed as he clamps down, and a moan slips free. Oh God, that feels good.
Really good.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he rumbles, running his tongue down my stomach. I lean up, watching as he kneels at the end of the bed. He grips my knickers, slowly sliding them down my thighs. “If you ever want to stop, just say the word.”
“What if I want you to go faster?”
His pupils dilate, the muscle in his jaw tensing. “Just let me know.”
The minute his intentions are clear, I freeze.
“I don’t like that,” I tell him.
It grossed me out before Scott tried it. After he did, it put me off ever wanting to do it again.
His brows pull together. “W-what?”
“It’s boring, and if I’m honest, my clit had friction burns the last time.” I hold my hands up. “I swear.”
Books lie. I know they’re fiction, but they could at least have the decency to make it realistic.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “He wasn’t fucking doing it right.”
I have my doubts, but I guess Drew wants to prove me wrong.
The minute his mouth latches onto my clit, my entire body flames like a furnace. Sweat beads at my forehead as I fight to keep in my moans of pleasure.
Maybe books don’t lie.
I clench my eyes shut, savouring each moment. Every time his fingers dig into my thighs, I remind myself that he isn’t Scott. He’s real. This is real. I have no room in my head to be thinking about him right now. Only Drew.
“Oh, do that again,” I ask, running my fingers through his hair. I feel him smile against my thigh before he does that thing with his tongue. “Yes!”
He most certainly knows what he’s doing.
His thick fingers probe at my entrance and I tense for a moment. He’s gentle, smooth, and when he curls his fingers up inside me, I almost come off the bed. The slight tension ebbs away, and with his skilled fingers and tongue working hard, I know it won’t be the same as before, not how it was when Scott did this to me.
I want more.
He slides another finger inside of me and I feel full, stretched. There’s no burn though, no sting. It feels like heaven.
“I want more,” I rasp as he pumps his fingers inside me, hitting the spot just right.
“Wait,” he urges.
“Now,” I demand back, a little sharper than intended. “Sorry.”
He grins, kissing my pubic bone. His fingers slide out of me and he looms over me, dragging me up the bed by my armpits. “So bossy.”
I kiss him, massaging my tongue against his. He tastes so good. Beer, champagne and a minty tang.
Suddenly, I’m no longer on the bed. Drew has me up and is spinning us until I’m straddling his thighs. “W-what? I…” I no longer feel brazen.
He grips my hips, sliding me over his cock.
Or maybe I am.
That feels so good.
“Just go with what you feel comfortable doing.”