Page 99 of Freedom’s Inferno

The way I straddled him in the water left nothing ambiguous, the proof of his desire solid and real beneath me.His breath caught against my mouth, a low sound of restraint.

The air between us tightened until the border between his body and mine was indistinguishable. Beyond the steam the air was cooler now, brushing over my damp skin and raising a trail of goosebumps along my shoulders, down the curve of my breasts. Tiny shivers chased the lingering heat of the water against the cooler air, the contrast sharpening my awareness of every inch of myself, every breath between us.

I reached below the surface, wrapping my fingers around Charlie’s thickness, shivering at the way his cock twitched at my touch.

A sharp breath escaped his lips, and he tipped his head back against the basin. “Lana,” he breathed, hand clasping the back of my neck.

My breasts were heavy, nipples hardening into pointed peaks against the humid air. Heat bloomed in my lower stomach, extending outward in a slow wave that traveled down my thighs. Every nerve in my body came alive, reaching for him.

I needed him. Not just the touch of him, but the presence of him, the steady, grounding weight of his hands, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was something divine. My pulse thrummed everywhere at once, a low, insistent ache that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with wanting him. Heat and hunger and safety all tangled together into something I couldn’t reason my way out of.

The water shifted as I moved, small ripples lapping against the sides of the tub. I rose, my breath catching, and settled again so my knees rested on either side of him. One of my hands rested flat on his chest, and the other held his cock, lining the head up with my entrance.

His body stiffened beneath me, his knuckles going white where he clutched the edge of the tub, taut with anticipation. The water worked against us, the heat making everything feel tighter. What should have been simple turned into something that demanded care. Every movement was slower, more deliberate, but somehow that made it more intimate. Each breath, each brush of skin against skin, felt charged and intense, every small motion deepening the need between us.

I lowered myself onto his cock, breath hitching against the resistance. The stretch was a battle of pressure and patience, holding tight before surrendering in a gradual, trembling yield. The feeling was sharp and deep all at once, pain tangled with pleasure until I couldn’t tell them apart. It ached, but not in a way that asked to stop. The hurt gave way to warmth, a slow flood of relief that spread through me, leaving me breathless and full, every part of me straining toward him, wanting more.

Comfort threaded through the clumsiness, in the way our movements stumbled and found each other again. He was solid and real beneath my hands, his warmth steady against the tremor in mine. Somewhere between the softness and the ache, Charlie became something I hadn’t felt in years: my safety, my shelter, the place where the world finally stopped hurting.

Charlie buried himself inside me, a low sound escaping him, rough and involuntary—like the air leaving his lungs after holding it too long.

I stayed still, my breath shallow, trying to find my rhythm again. Every part of me was taut, caught between discomfort and something perilously close to peace. The tension eased; my body learned the shape of him, the press and warmth of it, until stillness turned into something softer, something that allowed me to move again.

Charlie’s hands found my hips, steadying me, guiding me as I rocked against him. The motion between us was slow and searching, like we were learning each other all over again. His touch anchored me. The water rippled around our bodies, catching the dim light as it shifted with us. Our breaths tangled in the small distance that remained, each kiss deeper than the last.

My hands slid over his shoulders, tracing the strength there, then down to his chest where my fingers sank into the coarse warmth of his chest hair. The depth of the angle stole my breath and left me trembling, as if we’d reached the furthest edge of what two people could share.

“Lana…” He exhaled, shaky, “Tell me what you need.”

“You,” I breathed. “Just you.”

His forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling in the steam. “You already have me. Every part of me.”

I closed my eyes, and kissed him again, taking my time, as if to seal the promise between us. The rhythm we shared deepened, every breath pulling tighter, every heartbeat louder. The world around me dissolved into heat and motion and the sound of his voice, low and steady, grounding me as everything inside me climbed higher.

My thoughts scattered; something vast and consuming rose up, a pressure trembling through me and threatening to spill over. More than pleasure—release, surrender, the breaking open of everything I’d been holding back. My walls tightened around him, and Charlie pulled me on his lap, his length pushing inside me deep enough to drag a throaty moan from my lips.

“Fuck,” Charlie growled. The muscles in his chest tightened beneath my hands, every line of him drawn taut, strength and need coiled in a single breath. “Lana,” he murmured, his voice rough with strain and feeling. “I can’t‒”

“I know,” I whispered, my words catching between gasps. “Me too.”

His forehead pressed to mine, his breath shuddering out. “Stay with me.”

“Oh God,” I breathed. “I’m‒ I’m going to‒”

The tension that had built between us broke all at once, like a wave cresting and crashing to shore, pure, shattering, wordless release. Two heartbeats finding the same rhythm, two bodies caught in the same breath.

A rough growl tore from Charlie’s throat; his cock throbbed as his climax filled me.

I buried my face against his neck, my scream muffled in his skin, clutching at him as if he were the only thing keeping me from breaking apart completely.

His hand came up to the back of my head, holding me there, his breath ragged against my ear as the world fell away around us.

The water had gone still again, rippling only where our sighs touched it. My cheek rested against Charlie’s shoulder, his skin warm beneath mine, his heartbeat steady and grounding. Every part of me felt spent, drained and trembling, yet lighter than I had in years.

His arms were still wrapped around me, one hand tracing slow, absent circles along my spine. Exhaustion overtook him too, the way his chest rose and fell in long, uneven breaths.

Charlie whispered against my hair. “I love you.”