There’s a gleam below her lashes. That smug, ‘challenge accepted’ look. Like I’ve dared her. And I know she fuckinglovesa dare.
‘Oh, you’ll see.’
Then she goes down.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
Heat. Tight, slick, suffocating heat wrapping around the head. Her mouth… Fuck, her mouth. Full lips stretching and sealing as she takes me to the base. Pressure builds. Buried low. It claws higher, behind my ribs. I feel it everywhere. In my balls, my gut, my goddamn soul.
‘Fucking knew you’d be good at this.’ I fist the sheets, legs drawn tight – because fuck – now her tongue is swirling, teasing. My hips jolt, instinct taking over. She hollows her cheeks, and I almost black out. Fire licks up my lower back. My pulse rages in my skull and my heart thrashes like a motherfucker.
Because this isn’t just pleasure.
It’s her.
Her.
Charlie on her knees for me. Taking me. Giving me this.
Her mouth is a revelation. Hot and greedy and fucking lush.
And she’s so damn eager.
But something’s…off.
At first, I don’t see it. Too lost in heat-drenched suction, the way she gags for it like she’s got something to prove.
Until I realise she has.
She’s putting on a show.
And that’s a problem.
A cold rush cuts through the blaze, clearing my head enough to notice what I should have caught from the start. She’s doing it perfectly. Too perfectly. Both hands stroking me, her mouth moving in some fast porn rhythm. Like she thinks she has to get me off asap.
It guts me.
Because Charlie doesn’t know how to let go, how to be in the moment. Doesn’t know there’s a way to make giving head about her, too. To let herself sink into the power of it, instead of working so hard to impress me.
I push my fingers into her scalp, but not to guide. To stop. To pull her off me.
She looks up, lips wet, brows drawn in a question, confusion in her eyes.
My heart cracks open.
Charlie Harrington doesn’t know how to fuckingfeel.
She’s been taught how to perform, to please, to be the best. How to give, give, give.
But who the fuck taught her how totakeand revel?
My voice is rough. ‘You don’t have to, baby.’
Her forehead creases. ‘I want to.’
And maybe she does. Maybe she wants to make me come in her mouth. But there’s a difference between wanting something and knowing how to let yourself enjoy it.
I tip her face up with one finger under her chin. ‘You have no idea how to lean back and be taken care of, do you?’
