Page 127 of Charlie

"You actually like when I fuck your face, don't you?" he asks, something different – darker – in his gaze.

"Was I wet?" I ask, cocking my eyebrow. He already knows the answer to that question.

"So fucking wet," he rasps, his lips warm against my temple.

"My body can't lie, Jack."

He props himself up on his elbow, his gaze hot and heavy, fire simmering in its depths. "I'll be going to hell for the things I want to do to your body, Charlotte," he murmurs, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear,

"At least we'll be there together," I smirk, "Come on, let's take that shower you promised me."

70

The carved surface of the bathroom door bites into my back as Jack presses me against it, his hands sliding over my hips as he lowers his mouth to mine. He explores my lips lazily, nipping and sucking at my bottom lip before pushing into my mouth, our tastes melding together like a fine wine.

"I'll never get enough, Charlotte," he murmurs.

"You're willing to give this up?" I blurt, my heart hammering in my throat.

"What do you mean?"

"This. Us. Just the two of us," I whisper, my voice cracking.

His eyes narrow, studying me. "That's what we all decided on, Charlotte."

"I know. But now I'm asking you if you're okay with giving this up. Answer me truthfully."

He pushes away from me, his jaw clenched. I stand my ground, holding his gaze. He blows out a long breath, running his hands through his hair, his muscles rippling.

"No, I don't fucking want to give this up," he growls.

"Then why are we? Why are we making rules that our hearts don't agree with? On top of forcing the four of us to always be in the same place at the same time, it also means Cam and Lach can't ever have sex alone again. How does that make any sense?" I ask, throwing up my hands.

"I just don't want Cam, Lach, and I to be torn apart again," he says, pulling me close, his lips in my hair.

"I don't want that either. There are better ways to do this, Jack. Where all of us will be satisfied and happy."

"Let's talk about it this weekend," he murmurs, reaching behind me and twisting the doorknob. He stops me from falling into the bathroom, hauling me against his body, his cock hard against my stomach.

"Do you have a bionic cock?" I ask, pushing it down with my finger and watching as it bobs back up.

"I told you, I don't think I'll ever get enough," he says, backing me against the wall, the giant boulder cool and smooth against my skin. Sliding his hand down the outside of my thigh, he pulls my leg up to wrap around his waist, sinking into me in one firm thrust.

"Fuck," I groan, dropping my head against the rock and rolling my hips against him.

"Do you think you're ready for the butt plug?" he asks, pulling out and sliding back in with a grunt. "I need you ready for Saturday."

"Yes," I breathe, the picture he painted in my mind earlier coming back in full force.

"Good. Go down the short path on the right and through the door to the shower. I'll meet you there in a second." He pulls out slowly, pulsing the head of his cock on my clit before releasing me and walking back into the bedroom, his muscular ass teasing me with each step.

I walk down the path he indicated, confused as to why there's a wooden door leading to the shower. I turn the handle and push the door open, freezing mid-step. There's a shower sticking out of the ground directly in front of me, glass walls on every side, tall plants giving a sense of privacy. Gravel covers the ground, large flagstones forming a path. I walk to the shower in a daze, feeling like I'm in a dream. The piping for the shower runs up a rough wooden beam, a simple handle allowing the water to travel up to the shower head. I turn it on, waiting until steam billows around me before stepping under the scalding water. I lean back into the spray, the water cascading over me and disappearing into the gravel below my feet. There is no warning except a low groan before Jack captures me in his arms, lifting me, impaling me. I clutch his shoulders as he manhandles me, his grip on my ass tight as he moves me over his cock.

"Plug or dildo?" he murmurs against my ear, his finger sliding down my crack.

"You choose," I gasp, arching against him as he pushes a finger into me, grinding his pubic bone over my clit.

"Good girl," he growls, the baritone in his voice vibrating over my skin.

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