Page 124 of Charlie

"Like you want to push me down on the table and devour me."

"Yes, please," I rasp, walking toward him. He grabs my wrists, trapping me between his chest and the counter.

"You need your energy for tonight, mo chridhe. We eat first. Then I'll blow your fucking mind."

68

Jack washes the dishes while I chop the chocolate for the third course, the tension between us palpable. I scrape the chocolate into the pot and pour in the cream according to the directions, then take it over to the burner on the table. Greer left us with all sorts of goodies to dip in the fondue – marshmallows, brownies, cookies, and a handful of gorgeous strawberries. I would be excited to dig in any other day, but tonight, I can only think about how it’ll feel when he’s finally inside me.

Jack turns off the water, wipes his hands on a towel, and walks back to the table, his cock bobbing against the robe with each step. My heartbeat takes up residence between my legs, and I shift in my seat, agitated.

"Like what you see?" he chuckles, lifting my chin with his fingers until I’m looking him in the eyes. He sits beside me, drawing me close. I twist my body, throwing one leg over him so I’m straddling his thighs.

"Yes," I murmur, opening his robe and sliding my hand down his shaft. He grunts, pushing his hips against me.

"Fuck, Charlotte," he groans, capturing my wrist with one hand and dipping a strawberry in chocolate with the other. He lets it cool for a moment before holding it to my mouth. I bite down, our gazes locked as I lick the chocolate from my lips. "I don’t know how much longer I can wait," he breathes, running his thumb over my bottom lip.

"Then don’t wait. Fuck me now."

"God, you’re a bad influence," he groans, sliding out from under me and standing, taking the fondue with him to the counter. He grabs a small dish from the cupboard, sets it on the counter, and pours the chocolate into it.

"What are you doing?" I ask, popping a marshmallow into my mouth.

"What I've wanted to do since the first time I touched your tits," he says, setting the dish on the table and pulling me out of the booth.

"Yeah?" I look up at him, at his blown-out pupils, and I know I’m done for. Lifting me by my waist, he sets me on the edge of the table. He unties my robe, groaning as it falls open. Pushing me down gently, he stretches his body over me, pulling my wrists above my head and holding them with one hand.

"I’ve been thinking about doing this for weeks," he rasps, holding the fondue over me, watching as it drizzles over the tip of my breast. He dips down, swirling his tongue over my nipple before pulling it into his mouth.

"Jack," I beg, "Please."

He ignores me, giving the same attention to my other breast until he pulls a sob from my throat, my body a fast-burning fuse. I'm so close. I pull a hand free and slide it over my stomach and between my legs, cradling my clit between my fingers. Jack pulls back, his eyes dark, pushing my knees open so he can watch. I dip a finger inside myself and bring it back up to circle my clit. His gaze follows my movements, his chest heaving with each breath, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Enough," he growls, circling my wrist with his fingers and bringing my hand up to his mouth, licking me clean. "It's time for your surprise."

I groan. "I don't want a surprise. I want you. Inside me. Now."

"You'll want it, trust me," he insists, pulling me into an upright position and then scooping me up, one arm under my legs and the other behind my back.

"Where are we going?" I ask after he turns down a third hallway, electricity slowly giving way to candlelight as we walk further away from the kitchen. He stops, setting me gently on my feet. I look around at the art hanging around us, noticing the large open space on one of the walls that I’m pretty sure wasn’t there the last time I was here.

"I'm confused—" I say, but then I see a massive piece of black canvas spread out over the floor, tubes of metallic paint lined up along the top edge. "What is this?" I ask, looking over at him. My eyes dip down, my attention snagging on his fully erect cock peeking out of the robe. My mouth waters as I think about what he would do if I dropped to my knees right here.

"I found a company that makes water-based, body-safe paints," he says, pulling me out of my thoughts. "If you’re open to it, I thought our first time could be on this canvas."

"And then hang it?" I ask, looking up at the bare wall.

Jack nods, a gleam in his eyes. "We would be the only ones that know what it really is."

"This is genius! Can I paint you first?" I ask, my body thrumming with excitement.

"Do your worst," he chuckles, slowly untying the belt of his robe and letting it pool on the parquet floor.

Fuck. Me. The candlelight flickers over his skin, burnished gold melding into deep shadow.

I force myself to take a deep breath, shrug the robe off my shoulders and squeeze a tube of gold paint onto my palm, rubbing my hands together to warm it up. I walk toward him slowly, my heart hammering in my ears. He watches me, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, then pulls me against him, his cock hard against my stomach. I swipe my thumbs beneath his eyes, leaving two streaks of gold across his cheeks, then I smear the paint everywhere the light touches – the sides of his pecs, each muscle in his abdomen, and finally, the V pointing me toward what I really want. I forget the paint as he pulls me up on my toes, crushing his lips against mine. His hands tangle in my hair as he draws my head back and plunders my mouth, fucking me with his tongue. He releases me with a groan, looking like a golden god as he picks up a tube of deep blue paint and empties it into his palm.

"God, Charlotte. You're so fucking beautiful," he groans, sliding his hand over my breast and down my side.

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