Page 109 of When Hearts Awaken

“Charles,” I rasp, my fingers playing with her rosy nipples, squeezing them hard and feeling her inner walls strangle me some more. “Remember what I told you on the dance floor—it’s Charles, not God. Moan my name, curse it, scream it when you’re with me.”

Taylor shudders. Her body arches back so her tits are thrusted upward, and her head rests on my shoulder.

“Ch-Charles, shit… Is this what I’ve been missing?” she moans again as I slide my hand between her legs and play with her piercing.

That little barbell drives me wild.

We’ve sequestered ourselves in the hotel room for the last week as a blizzard blows through St. Petersburg. The rest of the tour company left before the storm hit, but Taylor and I were more than happy to indulge ourselves with each other in our little slice of paradise.

Other than a few mandatory work calls and a terse exchange I had with Elias telling him I’d contact him once I was back in the city, because I know I’ll need his help if I wanted to find the assholes who hurt Taylor, I’ve spent every waking moment with her.

I told her about my family and how much it devastated me that Liam had written me off from his life since Firefly’s accident. How I missed the happier days of the past. How tired I am with acting like everything was fine. She listened and didn’t judge me. She shared stories about her childhood and her mom. How she felt like ballet had saved her life at her lowest.

I’ve never felt closer to anyone else before and I think she feels the same way because in the last seven days, the darkness I typically see in her eyes is gone.

Then there’s the sex.

While I haven’t introduced her to the rougher side of sex yet, because it’s far too soon for that, sex between us has been transcendent. As if by telling me her past, she’s unlocked a part of herself long hidden, and now we can’t get enough of each other. It’s not just physical pleasure coursing through me, but a possessive need tugging at my heart.

I can let go of everything with her.

My cell phone has been pinging nonstop, my PR manager sending me article after article of photos taken of Taylor and me outside of Mariinsky Theatre, with headlines ranging from “Hypocritical CEO? Inappropriate relationships at work?,” “Is Bank of Columbia a breeding ground for illicit relationships?,” to “Anderson ballerina taking golden bachelor off the market!”

I should be concerned. The stock has gone nuts—plummeting one moment and rising the next—the public not knowing how to react to the news of a Vaughn kissing an Anderson. The old Charles would be disappointed in himself. My actions were impulsive and emotional, not driven by logic and strategy. This takes us back a few steps, especially given what I said in Prague about unequal power dynamics in relationships being frowned upon.

But I don’t give a shit.

Logic flew out the window the moment a certain black-hearted ballerina flew into my arms and kissed me in front of everyone. I was ready to give her the world then and now, after she told me what she went through and how she survived?

Screw everyone else.

“Look in the mirror,” I rasp. “Look at how sexy you are, your tits swaying, your pussy sucking in my cock so well.”

Taylor whimpers, her eyes fluttering open as she stares at our reflection. Her motions falter.

I drag my teeth down her neck before sucking the sensitive spot under her ear. My fingers pluck at that naughty little piercing as I slam into her from below, each thrust loud into the room.

Her mouth drops open, her eyes rolling back, and she grips my arms for dear life.

Fire burns up my spine as the pressure gathers in my balls. I bite her neck and pinch her clit. She screams, her juices gushing out of her—my minx likes a little pain in sex—I don’t think she realizes it yet, but I intend to teach her, to have her love the different sensations coursing through her body.

“Oh fuck,” she mewls, coming down from her orgasm, but I don’t stop. Instead, I pound harder, feeling her walls throb and clench around my dick.

“To answer your question,” my breathing is loud against her ear, “you are missing sex. That’s true, but it’sneverlike this.”

I place her hands on top of her tits and curl mine over them, our fingers interlocking as she thrashes against me. Gritting my teeth, I force myself not to come even as my cock lengthens inside her.

“It’s so good, oh fuck, Charles!” she cries, her legs shaking again, and I know she’s close.

Black dots form in my vision and this time, I let the final restraints holding me back snap. Clasping her tightly against me, I heft her up and walk the few steps to the mirror before setting her down.

“Hands against the mirror, minx. Watch yourself as you flood my cock with your cum while I go feral over you.”

Our bodies are slick, and I grip her thick black hair and pull as she arches her delectable ass against me, her hands against the shaking mirror.

Her beautiful eyes are wide with lust, her perfect lips swollen, her creamy tits slap against the mirror with each snap of my hips.

“Thisis what it’s like between us, minx. Insanity, blissful fucking insanity.” Fire races up my balls and my cock and I rub her clit before inserting the tip of my index finger inside her, on top of where we’re joined, and that extra sensation sets her off.

---