Page 95 of Charlie

"I know the perfect distraction to tide us over until then," he murmurs, grabbing the champagne bottle with one hand and holding onto me with the other.

I follow him to the front of the boat, where he motions for me to sit on a wide cushion underneath the gigantic control room window.

"Give me your glass," he says, holding out his hand. I drink the last sip of champagne and hand it to him, watching as he sets it on a small side table. "Do you know why this is my favorite spot on the boat?" he asks, taking several steps away from me and turning his face to the breeze.

"Why?"

He faces me again, a lock of sandy hair falling over his forehead, his gaze locked with mine. "Because it’s a blind spot. Nobody inside can see us."

"What if they come outside? I ask, swiveling my head and quickly realizing that he’s right – I can't see any windows from this position.

"They won’t. They’re under strict instructions not to bother us unless we ask."

He licks his lips and my core clenches in response, my breathing stilted.

"Do you know what my second favorite thing is?" He asks, dropping to his knees in front of me.

"What?" I ask, squeezing my thighs together to relieve the ache between my legs.

He crawls toward me, his gaze lowering to the apex of my thighs. He pushes my knees apart.

"I can do this—" He slides his hand up my thigh and into my shorts, pushing my underwear to the side and running his fingertip over me, teasing me until my back bows off the cushion. He slowly sinks one finger in, then two, massaging my clit with his thumb until I'm panting and begging him to let me come. "—and nobody will hear you but me."

52

"Eyes on me."

I open my eyes, my gaze tracing Lach's full lower lip, his freckled cheeks, his blond eyelashes. I gasp as our eyes lock, arching against him as his thumb circles my clit.

"That's it," he breathes, coaxing me higher. "I want you right on the fucking edge." He slides his fingers out of me and up to cradle my clit.

"Oh, God," I moan as the first spasms start. He pulls his hand away, his eyes dark. Dangerous. "Why?" I half sob, lust threatening to drown me as I watch him lick off his fingers.

"Because this is going to be the best fuck of your entire life. I don't want you to ever be able to forget it."

"By not allowing me to get there?"

"By edging."

I look at him with my eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer, my pussy throbbing.

"It's when you delay climax. It's worth it. I promise."

"So, you're allowed to torture me, but I don't get to torture you?"

"By all means, Charlie, do your worst," he says, smirking, raising his hands in surrender.

I throw myself at him, twisting him under me as we fall to the cushions. I settle myself on top of his thighs. If he wants torture, then I’ll give him torture. I lean over him, careful not to touch him with my torso, and suck his lower lip into my mouth. He opens to me immediately, our tongues mimicking what we're desperate for our bodies to be doing.

He groans as I pull my mouth away, moving to his ear, and biting his earlobe. His hand spasms on my hips as my breath teases across his skin.

"Do you prefer your torture by mouth or pussy?" I whisper, raining tiny kisses down his neck.

"Why not both?" he asks, all traces of humor gone.

"Fair enough," I laugh, "pick one for now."

He pulls my hips forward until I'm squarely settled over him. "Definitely pussy," he says, rocking my hips back and forth.

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