Page 110 of Charlie

He pulls the remote out of his pocket and turns it on high. I whimper, barely holding myself together. I notice several people looking over at us and mortification takes hold. "Fine!" I hiss, "You can do it. Just get this fucking thing out of me!"

"How are you two doing?" Pen asks, startling both of us. "Ready for dessert?"

"Always," Lach says easily, his finger hovering over the off button on the remote. I give him a death stare, and he finally presses it, giving me back my ability to form coherent words.

"Everything was amazing, Pen," I say, my voice high and breathy.

"Good," she smiles. "Dessert is made to order. It will be about twenty-five minutes. Feel free to take a walk – there's a path along the water to the right of the building. You'll have a gorgeous view of the sunset."

"That sounds lovely. Thank you, Pen."

I pull Lach from the booth once she’s back in the kitchen. Once we're outside, I push Lach away from the front door, my grip on his arm startling him. "If you don't figure out a way to get this thing out of me in the next thirty seconds, I'm going to cum, and then all of your hard fucking work will be for nothing. Got it?"

"Don't you fucking dare." He picks me up, throws me over his shoulder, and starts jogging down the path.

"Where are we going?" I ask, my words ending on a huff as his shoulder digs into my stomach with every step.

"There's an old, abandoned fishing shack down this way – at least it used to be abandoned. We’ll find out in a second." A handful of steps later, he's setting me down in front of a wood-planked door barely hanging onto its hinges. He peers through the window next to the door before trying the handle. The door creaks open, the sounds echoing off the stone walls. "All clear," he says, pulling me in after him. "Bed or bathroom?" He asks.

I look at the mildewed bed against the far wall and wrinkle my nose. The bathroom has to be better, right?

"Bathroom?" I answer, swinging my haze back to him. He's staring at me, his eyes hooded. "Lachlan?"

"I don't know if I can take that out of you, Carebear." The muscle in his jaw works as he tries to reel himself in. His restraint is holding on by a gossamer thread, and fuck if I don't want to break right through it.

"Yes, you can." I pull him toward the open door at the back corner, hoping it’s the bathroom.

"Not unless you want our first time to be in an old fisherman's shack, I can't," he says, making a half-hearted attempt to pull away from me.

Once we’re both in, I slam the door behind us and take a cursory look around – a small stand-up shower, a toilet, and a pedestal sink. It’ll do. I stand on my tiptoes, framing his face with my hands, and slide my tongue along his bottom lip. I suck it into my mouth, his moan raising goosebumps over every inch of my skin, his arms finally wrapping around me, pulling me against his body. I slide my tongue over his, mimicking what our bodies should be doing.

"Fucking hell, Charlie," he rasps, pulling away and resting his forehead against mine. I push down my sweatpants, wiggling out of them, then push my underwear down. I have my hands braced on the sink behind me, ready to boost myself up, when I hear the click of a button. The vibe comes to life inside me, bringing me to the edge in less than a second. He pockets the remote and grabs my knees, hoisting me up onto the sink, my legs spread wide.

"Goddamnit, Charlie. You’re too fucking sexy." He pulls my shirt off over my head and pushes the cups of my bra down, sucking one nipple into his mouth, then the other.

My world starts to narrow, and I fight it with everything I have. "Lach—" I try to warn him, but the words won't come out.

"You're so fucking perfect," he breathes, his gaze locked between my legs as he kneads my breasts.

"Lach!" I'm toeing the edge, ready to tumble over. Fuck the bet.

He pulls the vibe out of me without warning, and in those few seconds, before the tide consumes me, I jerk open his pants, push down his boxers and pull him out. He twitches in my hand, the drop of precum serving as a warning I absolutely will not heed. I position myself at the edge of the sink and pull him closer, nestling the head of his cock against my entrance.

He looks up at me. "Charlie—" he protests, but it’s too late. He grasps my hips and rams into me. I’m spasming before he even bottoms out, squeezing him greedily. "Fuck," he groans into my neck, "this was not the plan, Charlie."

"I don't care what the plan was. I need you. Now." He picks me up from the sink and turns, pressing my back against the wall, his cock buried deep, his pubic bone riding over my clit with each thrust.

"Look at me, Charlie."

His gaze tips me over the edge, my entire world condensing to where our bodies are joined, then exploding outward in a violent burst of scorching heat that consumes me from the inside out.

60

Lach's breath shudders in my ear as he slides in, stretching me, milking his orgasm for all its worth. My pussy squeezes each time he pulls back, desperate to keep him inside.

"Fucking hell, Charlie," he pants, meeting my gaze, his eyes bright. "I think the world just tilted on its axis. Nothing will ever be the same."

"My pussy's that good?" I tease, cradling his face and pulling his mouth to mine, nipping and biting at his lips. He moans, his cock twitching back to life. I squeeze my legs around his hips, forcing him deeper.

---