I smile, dazed and undone. “Ask me again in ten minutes.”
We lie tangled in the sheets, bodies slick, breath still uneven, the fire crackling nearby.
But it’s not over.
Not even close.
Because as I shift beneath Sam, still catching my breath, I feel him already hardening again.
He groans against my neck. “Fuck, Charlie.”
I smile, wicked and slow, and roll my hips against him.
“You’re insatiable,” I whisper.
He pulls back just far enough to look at me and what I see in his eyes steals the breath from my lungs. Heat. Hunger. Need.
He doesn’t answer with words.
He crashes his mouth to mine.
This kiss is different. Messy, wild, all teeth and tongue and urgency. He rolls us again, pinning me beneath him, hands already dragging the sheet away like he can’t stand a single layer of fabric between us.
I wrap my legs around his hips, anchoring him to me, desperate to feel him again.
We’re not soft this time.
We’re not slow.
We’re frantic.
Desperate.
Ravenous.
He thrusts into me in one brutal, perfect stroke, and we both cry out because there’s no easing into it this time, no teasing. Just raw, filthy need.
“Fuck—” I gasp, nails raking down his back.
“I know,” he grits out. “God, I can’t— I can’t stop wanting you.”
He pounds into me, hard and fast, the rhythm punishing, relentless. Our skin slaps together, slick and loud, drowning out the crackle of the fire.
“You make me wanna breed a baby in you.”
Heat licks my skin, and I beg, “Please!”
“Fuck.”
We cling to each other like we’re trying to crawl inside the other person. Teeth dragging across skin, hands gripping anything we can reach. It’s not about control anymore. It’s about release. About losing ourselves completely.
He buries his face in my neck, breath hot and ragged.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growls. “Tight. Wet. Fuck—Charlie?—”
“Don’t stop,” I gasp, my back arching, heels digging into the backs of his thighs. “Don’t stop.”
He slams into me harder, faster, mouth finding mine again, swallowing the sounds I make as the pleasure coils tight. I’m already close and so is he. I can feel it in the way his rhythm falters, the way his fingers dig into my hips.
