Page 60 of Kissing Games
‘Valentina. You’re so fucking tight,’ he hissed.
She looked down, her mouth dry as he nudged further in. He was so big.
He paused. ‘You okay?’
She nodded. Her previous experiences could never have prepared her for this. His size, the intensity in his gaze, and the feelings in her heart. She bucked her hips as she pulled him deeper. She wanted this more than anything in the world. She wanted him. Her life, her problems, her dreams, all faded to black. The only things in existence were her and Charlie in a blissful bubble of light. He bottomed out and they breathed together, their eyes locked. She felt seen, held, wanted. Emotion boiled inside her, cracks appearing in the walls she had erected around her heart for so long. She pushed everything down and closed her eyes, gyrating her hips up to him.
‘Move, Charlie,’ she whispered.
He thrust, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her. She felt him dragging slowly out, then the hard, shattering pleasure as he buried himself inside her with a grunt. His pace was slow but intense, as if he could read her mind and her body, making tiny adjustments to ramp up her pleasure. Her orgasm built again, flickers of light spiralling from the outside of her body inwards, whirling together faster and faster until her body reached the cresting point of no return.
‘Open your eyes,’ he commanded. ‘Valentina, look at me.’
She wrenched them open and the sight of him sent her tumbling over the edge. Her chest arced off the bed, her head following. Everything went black as her orgasm hit. Wave upon wave of ecstasy rolled through her as she thrashed with overwhelming, blinding pleasure. Over the ringing in her ears, she heard a high-pitched, keening scream, which she vaguely realised was coming from her. Her inner muscles contracted around his thrusting cock, detonating more shocks of pleasure. She heard him roar as he shuddered inside her, pumping his release. She held him tightly as he collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her hair, breathing heavily, repeating her name over and over again like a prayer.
She stared blankly up at the curtained canopy of the four-poster bed, her body humming at a new frequency.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
19
Charlie woke with the cool morning light on his face, holding a pillow tightly in his arms. He stared at the clouds, glowing with streaks of pink and gold through the diamond-paned window. Last night Valentina hadn’t said a word after she’d come apart around him. She’d seemed shocked and overwhelmed. He’d held her until she fell asleep, then carefully extricated himself from the bed, tucked her in, turned off the lights and crept back to his own room. She was working the next morning and he knew if he stayed the night, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching for her again and again.
Now, awake and alone, it was his turn to be overwhelmed. His heart thumped loudly, pushing up into his throat. His skin was hot and itchy, stretched tight, trying to hold in emotions too big to constrain. A hot wind twisted through his mind. It rattled in the dark corners, disturbing dust-covered memories. It poked him to feel things he didn’t want to feel. He threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, trying to ignore his erection. It jerked impatiently, slapping against his stomach, demanding to know where Valentina was.Fuck!
He couldn’t get carried away. He couldn’t let thoughts of her lead to thoughts about Caroline. About the baby. About even darker memories.
Focus, dickhead!He had no future with Valentina. She’d made that abundantly clear. So why make more of this than what it was? A fling. A bit of fun. Notch number six on his bedpost. He shook his head in disgust at his thoughts and headed to the bathroom for a cold shower.
As the water battered his body, he thought of how she was last night. Nervous, shy, unsure. But she’d still laid her body, her life, her soul open for him. She’d blown his fucking mind. He’d never met anyone like her before. Someone so responsible, so compassionate. She’d given up her whole life for her family. She’d made them her life’s mission, whether they wanted it or not. He sighed, letting the ice water run down over his face. He’d met her grandmothers, her sister. They wouldn’t want her blaming herself for Alejandro’s death. They wouldn’t want her working her life away to buy them a dream. A dream he doubted they even wanted.
He turned off the shower and dried himself, staring in the mirror at his scars, his tattoos, his history. He rubbed the towel over a black puma, remembering Caroline’s name written underneath, then over a string of musical notes on his arm.
He felt a sudden rush of loss. Everything he touched turned to shit.
Valentina was a saint. What the fuck could he bring to her life? The only thing he had to offer was his body. He moved into the bedroom, throwing on clothes. In what brief time they had together, he was going to worship her. He was going to leave her so pleasured, so well fucked, she’d have no doubt she was a goddess. He had to undo the damage done by whoever made her feel less than she was. The thought that some prick had made her think she wasn’t desirable, wasn’t perfect just the way she was, made his blood boil. He looked around the room for something to punch. Where was Vlad when he needed him?
A quiet knock at his door had his heart tripping. He yanked it open.
Valentina looked up at him, her dark eyes anxious.
‘You left,’ she said, her voice small.
‘Do you think I didn’t want to stay?’
He could see the answer on her face.
He pulled her inside and shut the door, drawing her into his arms, burying his nose into her hair. ‘Valentina,’ he exhaled, holding her tightly to him. Heat pulsed in his cock. He cupped her face, falling into her liquid eyes. ‘I left because you’re working this morning. You needed to rest, not have me molesting you all night.’
Her eyes widened and the flush in her cheeks spread. He reached down and kissed her, running the tip of his tongue along her plump bottom lip. She shivered and his blood ran thick with desire. He held her tighter, kissed her deeper, his tongue stroking hers. Sparks turned into flames as she pressed into him. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbing against his jeans. The friction on his cock was excruciating. He sat on the edge of the bed, grabbed her bottom, and pulled her closer to him with a grunt. She moaned into his mouth, running her hands up into his hair, setting off more fires to rage through his body. All he could think of was burying himself inside her again.
She pulled away, breathing heavily, her eyes hazy, her lips puffy.
He bucked his hips.
‘Charlie?’
Her voice sent another jolt to his cock. That soft accent saying his name, breathy with need.
