Page 92 of Never Kiss and Tell

Before I can turn around, a warm body presses up against my back. I let out a deep sigh, the breath I had been holding while I snuck in.

Charlie takes my hands in his, lifting them above me and sliding them up the door until I have to raise up on the tips of my toes.

“What was that you were saying about Peter?” he murmurs, low in my ear. A shiver ghosts through me and I wriggle in his touch, my ass brushing over him.

“I thought you didn’t care about another man’s hands on me,” I taunt.

Charlie takes both my wrists in one of his hands, freeing his other to slide down my back to cup my ass under my skirt.

“If I catch another man touching you like this, I’ll break his fucking hands.” His tone is deadly, threatening me to argue, but his possessiveness only spurs me on. I roll my hips back into his and he lets out a sharp hiss through his teeth, making me smile.

His hand slides around my front, pulling up the bottom zipper on my skirt, His fingers dance over the tingling flesh at the apex of my thighs and I jerk in his hands.

“Is this why you called me?” he asks, his lips at the swell of my shoulder. He nips at my skin and a soft moan leaves me. “You wanted my hands on you.”

Shamelessly, I nod, unable to speak as his fingers trace theline of my panties.

“Keep your hands on the door,” he orders, his voice deeper than before. I do as I’m told, my heart swelling with anticipation. His free hand reaches up, cupping my breast through my top. “All these men and yet you need me to get off. Tell me, princess, what happened to you hating my guts?”

“I still do,” I pant, straining to keep my hands on the door.

He brushes my hair out of my face, moving my panties to the side. “But you know I’m the only one who will do it for you. Is that it?”

I nod, gasping when his finger finds me, entering me.

“You’re soaked. Is this from me or dancing with that other man?”

I sputter as he slowly moves his finger in and out of me, unable to form a single thought.

“Tell me, Bailey, or you’re not going to get what you want.”

“You,” I gasp as he pulls back and adds another finger.

He lets out a sharp breath, almost painful, and his thumb swirls my clit.

“Who gets you this wet?” he asks, again.

“You do,” I answer, like I’m trained.

“Good girl,” he mutters, his breath leaving in a growl. He flips his ball cap backwards. “Keep your hands on the door, baby,” he reminds.

He spins me until his back is against the wall and sinks to his knees on the tile floor. I press my palms flat against the door above his head, unable to look away when he pushes my skirt up and nips at my inner thigh.

I whimper at the pain and squirm, but Charlie’s hands reachup to grip my ass, pulling me to him. “Eyes on me,” he orders. “If you look away, I’ll stop.”

With one long, lazy stroke, he licks me from my entrance to my clit. I gasp, my nails scraping at the wood of the door, but I don’t care. Charlie makes a rough sound of pleasure, reaching around and rolling my clit with his thumb.

I keep my eyes trained on his and the combination of his presence and what he’s doing to me makes me feel like I’m floating. I’ve never had such an intimate, raw, sexual experience. Never in a million years had I thought I would be half naked, spread open for this man that I despised so much.

His tongue spears into me and the growl of satisfaction reverberates through my core. I fight the desperate need to touch him, forcing myself to keep my hands on the door in front of me. Beyond these four walls, the party in the club rages on, the dancers completely oblivious to what we were doing upstairs.

“God, you taste fucking perfect,” Charlie grits, his fingers on my ass, gripping me to him like he’s starved for me.

“Charlie,” I moan, trying to catch my breath. My chest is tight, my legs shaking like I’m in danger of exploding at any moment. “I want you to fuck me.”

He pulls back, looking into my eyes.

“Not here. I want you spread out on my bed so I can fuck you for hours.” My legs threaten to give out and I drop a hand to his shoulder, digging my fingernails in through the thin fabric to hold myself up.

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