I nibble at her skin eliciting delicious little groans from her. When my balls remind me it’s time, I lay my muscular body over her slender one and I lose it.
I fuck her ass in earnest.
I labor to breathe and I have to mentally coax myself not to hold it in.
She gasps and moans.
I lose the last strand of control I was still holding onto.
I fuck her ass like an animal. I’m punishing, ruthless, greedy for more.
Charlotte throws her mane over her shoulder, craning her neck to look at me.
I allow our eyes to lock for a few short seconds.
My God she's beautiful.
“Kitten, I want your eyes glued to that wall as I wreck your ass," I command.
And if she doesn't just smile wide at me. Taunting me. Little minx.
Slowly, she does as she's told.
I just shake my head.
A few more pumps.
That's all it takes to get me there.
Aware that my climax looms, I circle my right hand over her body until my fingers meet her pussy. She’s so bloody wet. I'll need my mouth on it later. Her pussy has always been my weakness. This self-imposed celibacy has turned me into a very impatient man. I forfeited tasting her tonight. My needs were too urgent.
I squeeze her hard clit between my thumb and my middle finger giving her no other choice but to fall off the cliff and straight into a climactic abyss.
"Mother of God!" she shouts. Charlotte comes, clenching hard around my cock and milking the orgasm right out of me. "Oh, Barrett. Oh, mighty God, Barrett." Her desperate cries reverberate off the walls and right back through me.
My entire body tightens in response.
I'm done.
I can’t contain it anymore.
With one last thrust, I drive deep into her. I squeeze my ass cheeks together, tilting my hips forward. The movement is so swift that I actually lift her off the bed. I erupt with a loud and primal groan. It's so strong, it travels through my entire body like a soundwave.
“Oh, God, Charlotte!” I shout.
The orgasm rips through me.
I spew an indecent amount of hot cum into her hole. There's so much, that it surprises even me. I've had many mind-blowing orgasms with Charlotte, but this one tops them all. I suspect it's a combination of extreme horniness and the fact that I'm able to relieve myself inside a woman I can never get enough of.
“Bloody hell that feels so good,” she sobs.
“Squeeze for me, kitten,” I order. And she does. Thick dribbles of my cum drop to the bed. Blimey. “There's nothing sexier than my cum dripping from your ass… unless it's dripping from your sweet pussy."
CHAPTER 22
Charlie
“Talk to me, kitten,” Barrett coaxes me out of my lethargic post-climactic state. Once again, he fucked me into sheer bliss. His hand is caressing my ass cheek and I can't do much more than relish each stroke. “Say something,” he presses. He groans and kisses my ass again.
“Huh?”
“Can you get up on your knees?” he asks.
“I can try.”
Mentally I feel like I’m moving, but since I’m still in the same position, obviously, I’m not.
I'm about to try again when I feel Barrett’s hands circle my waist. He lifts me up in his arms, flips us both around and sits on the bed. He brings my trembling body close to his strong one. I pull myself tight against him still thrumming from that core-shaking climax.
“I worked you too hard,” he says dropping a soft kiss against my forehead.
Cradled like this so close to him, I feel the rhythmic thumping pulse of his heart against my ear. I close my eyes in contentment.
"You did—”
His body tenses.
“You should’ve used—”
My eyes fly open and I lock my gaze with his. "I'm not complaining, Barrett. I asked for it. I wanted it. I needed it." Am I revealing too much? Maybe. But right now, I feel so close to him, I don't mind opening up. "It's just that every time we get back together, for some strange reason, I forget how you leave my body reeling. You rob me of so much, yet you give me so much in return…" I let my words trail. “Clearly my mind is still a little fuzzy. I don't think what I just said made any sense." My cheeks redden with embarrassment.
"On the contrary, kitten. It makes perfect sense. I’ll always give you what you need. Always.”
"You have an unfair advantage," I laugh. "We go way back. You know exactly which buttons to push to make me lose my mind."
"That has nothing to do with it. It's because I genuinely love pleasing you. If it was only a question of pushing a button here or there, we would've been done a long time ago." His unwavering words tug at my heart.
For a few long seconds, neither of us says anything. I suspect it's because we've both already said so much.
“I'm going to drop you on the bed, so I can take care of you," he says.
"Okay."
Barrett. The consummate alpha. Under his dominant and rough external layers lies such tenderness. It's disarming.
"You're going to be okay for a few seconds?"
"I should be. It's not as if I'm going to roll off the bed," I laugh.
"Just checking," he laughs back. "Don’t move. Let me run and grab a washcloth so I can clean you up."
"I won't move a muscle," I promise.
He flashes me a wide smile before heading out of the bedroom.
He's back in a blink of an eye with washcloths, towels and a bottle of water.
“After that intense ride, I want to make sure you’re okay,” Barrett says sitting back on the bed next to me.
"Of course, I’m okay. I already told you. I can take your cock, no problem," I say proudly. “And your punishments. By the way, you only administered two,” I laugh.
"I'll confirm that first part for myself as I clean you up. As for your third punishment, the night is still young," he chuckles.
“You didn’t forget?”
“Nope.”
“Bollocks.”
“Can I proceed now, your Highness?”
"By all means," I say, stretching out like a cat.
Barrett starts taking care of me like only he can. He rubs the washcloths over every sticky spot, stopping occasionally to run back to the bathroom to wash the cloths before promptly returning to tend to me.
"God, I really made a mess," he says as he wipes my ass for the fourth time.
Everything about this moment is so intimate. I know it sounds funny to say, considering he just fucked my ass like a stallion. And of course, that's before he literally commanded me to squeeze his cum out of my hole. Nevertheless, his touch feels like nothing more than a soft feather stroking my skin.
"You sound surprised," I say after a long beat.
"I am. I came with such force that it felt like I was being knocked onto my back.”
"I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who nearly lost her mind," I say.
"Not even close," he responds. "You confessed earlier that you always forget how I leave your body reeling. Well, your ass…" He lets out a long ragged breath. "Your warm hole leaches every ounce of energy I have. Frankly, I can hardly believe that I was still able to stand up on my own two feet and not collapse to my knees. It was that earthshattering."
His revelation is shocking and thrilling at the same time. It's so nice to hear a man like Barrett say something like that. I mean, how many other women has he fucked up the ass? —You already know it's a rhetorical question. I don't want to know the number. — That said, we’re talking about an extremely handsome and very eligible wealthy bachelor who can pretty much have any woman he wants… even a Miss Universe contender. To think that I can make him feel this way, is pretty surreal. For someone who's never at a loss for words, I am right now.
After our mutual confessions, Barrett spends quite a bit of time on aftercare. He cleans up every last bit of me and I purr the whole time. Once he's done, he sits back on
the bed, lifts me up like I weigh nothing, drops me in his lap and grabs my wrists. It's only when he brings them to eye level, that I notice the red marks against my white skin.
"Blimey! I'm going to have to find a way to hide those," I say.
"I'm sure you'll find a silk blouse or two in your collection that will do the job nicely," he chuckles.
"Mr. Ascott, was this part of your plan?"
"Not at all, Charlotte. Buying you a new wardrobe because you needed one is very different from seducing you. I can assume a lot of things when it comes to clothing and fashion, but never when it comes to you saying yes to me." Wow. "That said, I'm glad I have it covered," he lets out a little laugh.
Something flashes in his eyes and I worry.
“Come on, get it all off your chest," I insist.
"Since I announced at the end of the meeting that you and I were going to be working late tonight, I’d hate to be that obvious when we reconvene tomorrow with the rest of the group. No one needs to know that you love it rough other than me, kitten," he chuckles.
I roll my eyes. "My God you can be cocky."
"And you wouldn't want me any other way."
Touché.
Barrett gently rubs my bruised wrists for a long while. After that, he moves to my shoulders, my arms, my legs and my back. He continues with his royal treatment by attempting to comb my wild hair with his fingers. It's a valiant effort, but I'm sure I still look disheveled. I always do after I've been properly fucked. That said, I love how dedicated he is to taming my mane.
I don't know how long he's at it for, but I don't care. This feels too good to even think of rushing him.
Since I’ve never allowed any other man to dominate me like Barrett does, I'm never treated to luxuriant aftercare. In many ways, Barrett doesn't even realize that for so many things, he's my first and only.
I'm so happy right now and he doesn't even know it.
After he finishes, he says, "I guess now that I've ravished and tended to you, I should feed you."
"That's the least you can do," I joke back.
"Actually, it's the reasonable thing to do."
"Why do you say that?" I ask, confused.
"God knows you'll need your energy for what I have in store for you later."
"Well, at least I can’t complain that I wasn't in the know about your less than honorable intentions. Thanks for the heads-up, mate."
"Honorable?” His trademark frown creases his eyebrows together.
"What?"
“That doesn't sound nearly as enjoyable as, Oh, God, Barrett, I'm coming, I'm fucking coming. Yes, yes, yes," he mimics me.
We both explode in laughter.
* * *
“Fuck, what do you mean we’re not ready?" A voice shouts.
Huh? Am I dreaming?
“I’m fed up, mate.”
Barrett?
“I've had it up to here.”
What’s going on? Why is he so upset?
I pull myself out of a groggy sleep and listen in on Barrett’s conversation. Since the door is closed, he must be pretty flummoxed for me to still be able to hear him.
“Hell, no,” Barrett shouts a little louder.
I attempt to flip over so that I’m resting on my back, but instead, I let out a long agonizing moan. Bollocks. It's no wonder my body isn’t cooperating. Barrett fucked me into another time zone after he fed me. I was the first one to lift my nose at celibacy and coin it as a calamity, but after last night, I celebrate it. Abstinence can be a beautiful thing. The man was hungry like a beast and I reaped all of the benefits—orgasm after orgasm.
“Ty, I want these monkeys off my back." Oh, no. Not him. "I've already sacrificed two years of my bloody life, mate."
Tyler. A name that's usually a precursor to really dreadful news.
"No, that's not good enough." Barrett raises his voice. "You said we had it covered.”
Determined to find out what's gotten Barrett so out of sorts, I extract myself out of bed, cursing up a storm as my aching muscles protest mightily. Naked, I tiptoe to the door and pull it open. It's ajar enough to allow me to listen in more intently without being seen.
"I don’t want these assholes to make good on their promise. Can you imagine the humiliation?” What is he talking about? “And you and I both know that nothing would bring them more pleasure than to pull an underhanded scheme like that one." There’s a handful of people in Barrett's circle—and they so happen to all be related—who wouldn’t hesitate to do everything in their power to hurt him. "We need to contain this, Ty." What are Archer and Cormac up to now? Unless Alvina is spreading some venom around like glitter.
Concerned, I pull open the door and step out.
Barrett is naked. And he's pacing the length of the living room like a condemned prisoner would his jail cell. Every time he passes by the corridor, I catch a glimpse of him. His muscular physique looks like it was sculpted for sin. And, God, does he ever use it well. That body can navigate from merciless to merciful in a few breaths and without warning. Damn.
Even at a distance and under the ambient lighting scattering from every part of the suite, I can tell he's stressed. His profile speaks volumes—tight jaw, flared nostrils, eyes staring straight in front of him, and his right arm folded behind his back resting against his taut butt. That's the other side of Barrett. The one you really don't want to mess with. His pillow-tousled hair is the only sign of lightness. Everything else about him is guarded and on edge.
He kicks something invisible on the floor with his foot before he resumes his pacing. Suddenly, he turns in my direction. He doesn’t seem to notice me at first because as he turns to face me, his hand flies to cover his eyes—he’s that taken by his conversation with Tyler.
“I don't want this to become a ghost in my life or in—”
When he lowers his hand, he sees me.
He’s seriously annoyed. I'm willing to bet that he's angry, but years in the Navy have rendered him nearly unflappable. Nearly. I know him too well to be that easily fooled.
Something is definitely eating at him.
His usual vivid emerald eyes are dark. Stormy even.
His lips part as our eyes meet. The concern in his gaze is unmistakable. A colliding storm of butterflies quivers in my stomach. And we’re not talking about the good kind. This feeling is too familiar. The unpleasant memories send an avalanche of déjà vu barreling through me. After a few seconds of us just staring at each other, he lets out a long sigh before mouthing. “I’m so sorry.” I offer a tight nod. "One minute," he mouths again. This time he lifts his index finger up in the air.
"Sure,” I mouth back. I even force a smile.
It’s resignation really. My heart already oscillates with nervousness. It’s as if I’m falling backward into an abyss I’ve struggled too many times to get out of.
He gestures for me to go back in the bedroom. I hesitate at first, but comply when he mouths, "Please."
I nod again before turning around.
With slow heavy steps, I enter the room, close the door behind me and rest my back against it.
Get dressed and run, Charlie. Get the hell out of there. Now! A voice I haven't heard in over six months yells at me. I ignore it at first, convinced that maybe things will be different this time. After all, last night was so amazing. Barrett was so carefree and passionate. Nothing seemed to be preoccupying him other than giving me unbridled pleasure.
Whatever this is, will soon become his sole reason for living. Consuming him until he has no energy or time for anything or anyone else… including you, the warning voice continues.
Please, God, no.
I close my eyes and pray silently.
After a few long seconds, I have to face reality.
Barrett operates one way.
As much as I want to ignore it, everything about his body language indicates that he's getting ready for war.
Do I really want to go through this again?
I resign mys
elf to accepting what I already know I can't change. If the past is any lesson, it's best for me to leave now and guard my heart.
With a determined step, I move across the room and gather my clothing. I quickly get dressed and before you know it, I'm sliding back into my high-heeled sandals.
I ready myself to make my exit when I realize that my clutch—and phone—is in the living room.
Shit.
Carefully, I approach the door and open it quietly. Barrett's voice seems further away now. Good. I take a chance and step out of the bedroom. Hesitantly, I walk down the corridor with my back sweeping the walls like a criminal doing her best not to get spotted. When I reach the edge of the living room, I wait for a beat. When I still can't hear his voice, I venture forward. I scour the living room, but I can’t see him. It’s only when I turn my head to the left that I notice him on the deck with his back facing me. Realizing that this is a now or never situation, I grab my clutch from the sofa and make a run for it.
CHAPTER 23
Barrett
The second I noticed Charlotte had left without so much as a goodbye, I knew I’d have a shit night’s sleep. Sure enough, insomnia was my bedmate after my call with Tyler. It isn’t the first time I’ve tossed and turned wide awake in bed. Since serving in the Navy, a full night's rest is a luxury I never take for granted. I'm no stranger to getting up at the crack of dawn with little sleep in my body—I rarely sleep past six o’clock in London—but when I’m disrupted by irritating news and the woman I so long to ravish again this morning is gone, it definitely makes you wake up on the wrong side of the bed.
In fact, I'm positively churlish.
Everything indicates that it's going to be one of those, Proceed at your own risk, kind of days for anyone dealing with me.
Tyler called me at three o’clock in the morning and after a half hour of heated discussion, I had to hang up on my best friend or else I was going to murder someone. I'm not mad at him. He's only doing his job. Of course, my not being in London compounded the problem because he decided to give me a day’s respite to deal with this Jason drama before calling me and dropping more bad news in my lap.
You're All I Think About_Second Chance Romance Page 16
