Page 142 of The Charm of You

epilogue

CAROLINE

One month later…

Sweat trickles down my back, leaving goose bumps in its wake along my hot skin.

“Don’t hold back, Homecoming Queen,” Austin growls in my ear as he rolls his hips into me from behind.

He slides in and out of me at a slow, sensual pace, and I moan in protest. I reach behind me to grip the back of his neck and push my hips back, urging him to speed up.

To throw me over the edge and hold me as I fall.

“I’m not going to give you what you want unless you let go.” He teases his tip between my ass cheeks, and I finally release my bottom lip from where my teeth held it like a vise.

“You can be loud here. As loud as you want. No one will hear us.” His voice sweeps over my ears in gravelly waves. “Tell me how bad you want it.” He eases himself back inside me, resuming this game we play that drives me wild.

“I want it… so fucking bad,” I stammer and hike my ass higher, serving myself up to him.

My loud cry of pleasure bounces off the bare walls as he slips easily into my wet heat, right where he belongs. I raise my hand to cover his on the wall in front of us as he finally drives into me at a relentless pace.

He gives me exactly what I need.

Pressure builds, curling and tightening in my lower stomach with my impending release until I’m completely unraveled.

Austin Kyle unravels me.

“That’s it,” he whispers, but he doesn’t let up. He slams into me until his own release undoes him.

He’s unhinged.

It’s been this way between us, so raw and feral, ever since he visited me in New York, and I can’t get enough. It’s a good thing we closed on this house yesterday. I won’t have to settle for late-night phone calls and texts anymore.

I’ll have the real deal whenever I want him in our home.

Austin buries his forehead where the base of my neck meets my shoulder, his heaving chest brushing against my back as I stand upright.

“You know what I love the most about this house?” he asks, his voice muffled. “The echoes from your moans while I’m inside you.”

“In that case, we shouldn’t put any carpet down or add any furniture.”

“Deal.” He chuckles, and it vibrates through my chest. “I hate shopping for that shit, anyway.”

“Even if I promise certain favors for every piece you pick out?” I turn in his arms and toy with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Now we’re talking.” He captures my lips, and my eyelids flutter closed.

When he pulls back, I catch a glimpse of the clock on the stove over his shoulder. “Oh, shit. We need to get dressed for karaoke night.”

He hangs his head and grunts.

I scoop my articles of clothing up from the floor and skip into the bathroom to freshen up. The balls of my cheeks have adopted the special kind of crimson only true joy can bring.

And that’s how I feel with Austin.

Last month, he came to New York for me.

He was patient and showed what he considers enthusiasm for all the sights I dragged him to, which consisted mostly of my personal favorite spots.

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