Page 30 of Endless Love

Not wanting to talk about those old fantasies, not wanting to remind her of the fact that I lied to her and pretended to be someone else, doesn’t mean I’m not turned on by the memory. The tension between us is thick as we drive back to the motel, and the churning emotion in my gut is difficult to grapple with.

I’m upset that she shattered what was a tender moment between us because she’s afraid to let herself give a shit about me. Because she’s scared of what will happen if she lets herself admit that she still feels something for me, even if she’s rightfully angry as hell with me, too. I’m frustrated that we can’t try to figure out what this is, because of all the ways I’ve fucked up in the past. And I’m so painfully, achingly turned on that I can’t begin to sort all of that out.

The minute we’re back at the motel, and in our room, I stride to the small bathroom, closing the door and feverishly yanking open the front of my jeans. I let out a sharp hiss of breath through my teeth as my hand wraps around my cock, the feeling of my palm against the straining flesh, not the pleasure I want, but still pleasure nonetheless.

I grip the side of the sink with one hand as I stroke my other down my length, not bothering with anything to lube it. I need to come more than I need anything else right now. I need to be able to think straight.

If it were anyone else, I’d be able to think. To focus on what needs to be done, rather than how badly I want to just take Charlotte and run as far as possible, across state and country lines, to another continent, another fuckingworldif I could, just to keep her safe.

And, if I’m really being honest—just tokeepher.

What I’m doing right now isn’t about pleasure. It’s about clearing my head, salving a need, like eating or drinking, because Charlotte drives me to the point of distraction. I just need to come, and I grit my teeth, so focused on getting there that I don’t hear the door open until it’s too late.

“Oh.” The soft, startled sound of Charlotte’s voice almost tips me over the edge, just hearing it. The only thing that stops me is the shock of hearing her there, enough to pull me back from the precipice. I half turn away from her, my hand still gripping my cock as if I can’t pull it free, heat rushing up my neck.

“I—” I don’t know what to say.I’ll be done in a minute? Knock next time? God, let me fuck you, please, because it’s all I can think about?

But I don’t just want to fuck her. What I want is so much more than that. And what I want, she won’t give me.

To my utter shock, she doesn’t leave. She steps into the bathroom instead, closing the door behind her as she looks at me, her eyes wide and full of something I can’t quite read.

“That first time I chatted with you online.” Her tongue darts out, trailing over her lower lip, and my cock throbs in my fist. I should let go, tuck myself away, and put an end to this before it goes somewhere that isn’t good for either of us. But my fist stays clenched, like I touched an electric wire and froze there, and Istare at her, my heart slamming against my ribs. I thought she would leave it alone, after I didn’t buy into her efforts to bring this up by the lake, but it seems she’s bound and determined to reopen it all. And right now, my willpower to resist is failing.

“You told me about a fantasy. About sneaking into my apartment and waiting for me. Telling me to get on my knees for you, because I’d made you wait all day.” Her gaze flicks down to my stiff cock, still clenched in my fingers. “That’s because of me, isn’t it?”

I swallow hard, a strange feeling that I’m going to laugh, tightening my throat. “No one’s made me hard other than you since the night I met you, Charlotte.” The words come out taut, rough, scraping past my lips. “Every time this happens, it’s because of you.”

Her tongue darts out again, and I feel the dampness of my pre-cum against my fingertips as my cock throbs again at the sight, begging me to start stroking again. To finish what I started. But I can’t move. I’m too transfixed by what’s happening in front of me, knowing that I should put a stop to this and desperately wanting it all at the same time.

“Tell me to get on my knees,” she says softly. “Tell me to take care of it for you. Tell me to?—”

“To suck my cock?” My voice is hoarse, rasping, thick with desire, and a touch of anger that burns up through the lust. “Why, Charlotte? So you can hate me more, for telling you to do something that you said we wouldn’t do again? So you can put more distance between us? So you can remind me that this all started with a lie, and reduce it down to just a cold, sexual relationship that doesn’t mean anything else?”

She flinches with every word, standing there against the door, and every fiber of my body feels like it’s trembling with a mixture of lust and frustration bordering on anger. “You don’twant me?” she whispers, and I grit my teeth, staring at her like she’s lost her mind.

“Charlotte, I want you so badly I can barely fucking breathe. I’m in here right now because I want you so much I can’t think, and Ineedto think, so I can keep us safe.” I let out another sharp, frustrated breath, a corner of my mind marveling at the same time that I’m still so fucking turned on. It’s as if my body isn’t getting the message that Charlotte and I are arguing right now. That she’s—I don’t even know. Hates me so much, maybe, that she’s found a different way to hurt me by turning what I want against me.

And I’m so fucking close to just sayingfuck it, and giving in.

“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined that?” I growl, staring at her. “You on your knees, your pretty lips wrapped around my cock. I’ve gotten to feel itonce, and I’m going to dream about it for the rest of my fucking life.”

“So tell me to do it.” She tips her chin up, returning my stare. “Tell me to get on my knees for you, and I’ll let you come in my mouth. I’ll even swallow.” A small, taunting smile curves the corners of her lips, and I stare at her, trying to understand what she’s doing here. This is some kind of punishment; I feel sure of it. Some way for her to get me back. And I also feel almost certain that she’s trying to throw up walls between us by doing this. By reminding me of how this started. Just lies and sex.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” She pushes herself away from the door, stepping closer to me. I can smell her skin, clean and soft and warm, without any of the lotions or perfume she used to wear. Just her, and it’s enough to make me feel half-insane with desire. “You lied for this. Made up an entire other persona for this. Tricked me and got close to me for this.” She inches closer with every word, honey laced with acid, and all the while, my cock is throbbing against my palm as if there’s anything about this that should turn me on.

I can’t stop wanting her, even when I’m angry with her. Even when she’s angry with me. It’s an obsession, an addiction, and no matter how much this conversation should do the opposite of make me want her more, taking the lash of her tongue just seems to make me ache for her even more.

“So make it worth it,” she whispers, so close now that she’s almost brushing against me. “Tell me to get on my knees, Ivan. After all of this, shouldn’t you at least get what you wanted out of it?”

Her hand wraps around mine, her fingers brushing my cock, and I’m lost. The sensation of her fingertips between mine, pressing against the hot, straining flesh, is enough to snap whatever self-control I have left. I should tell her that this isn’t what I want, that this isn’t what I did it for, that even if it started out that way, what I want from her has become so much more. That just having her mouth around my cock is so far from being enough that it’s laughable.

But her fingers stroke against me, her lips dripping the kind of temptation that I’ve become so, so weak to with her, and I feel my other hand reaching up to slide into her hair, tugging her head back so that she’s looking up at me.

“Fine. You want my cock in your mouth so badly that you have to taunt me for it, Charlotte? Get on your knees and suck it.”

She drops like a shot, down on her knees on the tile, and I know I’ve givenherwhat she wants instead of the other way around. Another reason to believe I’m nothing but the deviant who lied to her, who wants her body and nothing else, who would ruin her life just for a chance to ruinher. And while that might once have been true, I’m not giving her a reason right now to think that it no longer is.

But I alsocan’tthink right now. Not when she’s yanking a hair tie off her wrist, piling her now-blonde hair up on her headand wrapping that black elastic around it, baring her neck for me to wrap my fingers around the back of it. Not when her full lips part, and she pushes my hand away, wrapping hers around the base of my cock as she leans in to brush her lips over the head of it.

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