Page 46 of Fire in My Heart

Because one night would never be enough.

I grabbed the condom, sheathing myself before considering the sight of Charlotte on her bed. Her ample breasts begged for my touch, her nipples were hard, and her pussy glistening. There were no words that could adequately describe how she looked.

I lowered my body over hers so that I could tease her with my dick. I kissed her, cupping one breast. How did I want her: on top, doggy style, or missionary? Nothing would be boring with this woman.

I braced my hands on either side of her head and eased inside. She was slick and swollen, more than ready for me.

Her hands were all over me, touching and exploring. Usually, I preferred to hold a woman’s hands over her head. But I liked Charlotte’s hands on me. I liked everything about her. I should have been panicking, but I was so gone for her.

I easily rolled us so that she was straddling me. With my hands on her hips, I guided her down my cock until she was fully seated.

Her lips parted, and her head fell back. When she finally moved, it was like nothing I’d ever experience before. Her pussy was tight around my cock, her breasts bobbing with her movements. I cupped them, marveling at their weight, the way they spilled over my palms.

She whimpered whenever I touched her nipples. She was sensitive there, and I loved that I could drive her wild with just a brush of my fingertips.

Her movements grew jerky as she moved over me. I gripped her hips, helping her lift, then lower. She worked me over, taking what she needed. I touched her clit, causing her body to jerk.

She bit her lip as her body spasmed around me, drawing my own orgasm.

She was an irresistible combination of soft and hard, sweet and demanding. I couldn’t resist her, and I sure as hell couldn’t walk away from her.

I gently lifted her to the side, getting up to take care of the condom.

When I eased back into bed, she was already breathing softly. This was my opportunity to slip out without her knowing. But the resulting feeling in the pit of my stomach wouldn’t let me do that.

I wanted to hold her close. I wanted to sleep next to her. This might be the only night I got with her, and I wasn’t about to give it up.

Instead of leaving, I held her close, and she curled her body around me. She still wore my flannel, and it satisfied some urge deep inside me to possess someone. Is this what I’d been missing my entire life? I protected my family, but maybe I was destined for something more. Someone like Charlotte.

The idea was so overwhelming; I quickly dismissed it. I wasn’t cut out to be a boyfriend, much less a husband.

Charlotte deserved so much more than I had to offer. She deserved the house, the white picket fence, the dog, and two-point-five kids. My heart clenched at the vision of her standing in my kitchen, cooking breakfast while I fed our little girl or boy food in a highchair. It was so domestic and so outside anyreality I let myself imagine that I had trouble drawing in a deep breath.

Being with her like this was dangerous because I couldn’t have her. She wasn’t mine to possess. But I still wanted her.

The next morning, hair tickled my chin and a heavy weight rested on my leg. My eyes drifted open to find Charlotte sleeping on top of me. Tenderness unfurled in my chest.

My first instinct was to feed her breakfast and maybe give her one more orgasm before I had to work on the farm. When I dated in college, I considered myself a nice boyfriend. I was courteous and attentive. But when my mom died, I couldn’t keep up the long-distance relationship in the way I wanted to. I couldn’t give her attention when my siblings needed me.

After that, I didn’t think it was fair to be in a relationship with someone when I had so many demands on my time. There were the hours, and then I worked a second job. And despite what Wes said, I thought my family still needed me.

So what was I doing with Charlotte? I was operating on pure instinct when I almost kissed her in the barn. But coming to her house last night was intentional. I wanted to blame Wes’s pushing, but I couldn’t be upset about where I was right now.

I stroked a hand over her hair, reveling in how nice it was to sleep and then wake up with a warm, mostly naked woman in my arms. And not just any woman. Charlotte. She wasn’t what I expected.

She’d experienced a trauma with her father being an alcoholic. I saw the aftermath of that in my job.

Charlotte shifted in my arms. She must have sensed that I was awake. She lifted her head slightly before collapsing onto my chest. “We have to get up early to set up for the festival.”

I groaned internally. “I forgot about that. I had other plans for this morning.”

She lifted up so she could see my face, her eyes a little brighter. “Oh, yeah?”

“I thought I’d cook you breakfast and have my way with you.” My voice was rough from disuse.

Charlotte smiled. “I do love when you cook for me.”

I glanced at the clock. “But we don’t have time if we want to set up before the festival begins.”

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