Page 59 of Charlie

"I have two hands," I remind him, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.

"Fine," he says gruffly. "Let's go shower."

32

Jack leaves me on the bed, utterly boneless in the aftermath of the hottest thing I've experienced in my entire life. I hear him murmur something to Lachlan as he starts the shower, and the next thing I know, Lach is scooping me up and carrying me into the bathroom.

The shower is a thing of dreams – easily the size of my room back in the pool house. There are more showerheads in this single shower than I've seen in my entire life. He sets me down carefully, ensuring my feet are under me before letting go while Jack starts soaping up his arms. I'm mesmerized by his hands sliding over muscle, by the bubbles sticking to his skin. I take the soap from him and move around to his back, lathering up the massive expanse of muscle, then move down to his waist. I slip my hands around the front, pressing my breasts to his back. The ridges of his abs are hard under my hands as I explore his torso. He groans as I roam lower, my fingers brushing the base of his cock. I wrap my hands around him, pumping twice before moving over to Lach and doing the same thing to him.

"Teasing isn't nice, Sassenach," Jack growls into my ear. He grabs my shoulders, pushes me to the middle of the shower, and holds me there while he fiddles with a knob. A waist-high shower head turns on, and he adjusts it to hit square between my legs. He turns a dial, and it becomes a massager, shooting jets of water right onto my clit. My knees start to shake, and I step out of the stream, but Jack pushes me back into it. "Don't move."

They close in on me, soapy hands slipping over my skin. I blow out a shaky breath and anchor myself with a hand on each of their cocks. My breath stutters as their heads disappear into my hands, then I slowly push back toward their bodies, twisting my hands as I repeat the motion. My legs start trembling so much that I have to sink to my knees. The guys drop with me, Lach pushing my legs open wide as Jack detaches the showerhead and aims the spray. I jerk when it hits me, swearing as their low chuckles lodge into my core.

They're on either side of me, knees spread, sitting on their heels, cocks begging to be touched. Licked.

"Don't even think about it," Jack growls, taking my hand and wrapping it around his cock. He covers my hand with his, squeezing and pumping. I take Lach in my other hand, mirroring the movement. The shower fills with heaving breathing, grunts, and moans as all three of us tip closer to the edge.

"Come for me," I rasp, my gaze volleying between their cocks as I stroke them, rocking my hips against the onslaught of water. They grunt simultaneously, bucking into my hands as ropes of cum swirl down the drain. As soon as Jack releases my hand, I slip it between my legs.

"No, you don't. This one belongs to me." He stands and pulls me up with him, pressing me to the glass. He cups my cheek and angles my face before crushing his lips to mine. He slides his fingers through my folds, pushing two of them in. My mewl of protest as he pulls his hand away turns into a moan as he puts them in his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he tastes me. "I can't fucking wait any longer," he grinds out, the fire in his eyes burning me alive. He picks me up by the waist, and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me out of the shower straight to the bedroom. I catch a glimpse of Lach pulling on dress pants right before Jack tosses me onto the bed, crawling up after me. He pushes my thighs open wide, dipping his head to breathe me in. His groan has me shaking with need.

"Have fun, Carebear. I have a meeting in town. I'll be back in a few hours," Lach presses a kiss to my temple and winks before leaving the room.

"Now there's no one to hear you scream, Charlotte," Jack says before running his tongue over me, his moan skittering over my body. I clamp my legs around his head, bucking against his mouth, already on the brink.

He stops and forces my knees to the bed, holding them there until I stop struggling. I'm breathing hard, desire pooling as his gaze slides from my heaving breasts, over my stomach, to the apex of my thighs. "Put your back against the headboard. I want you to watch while I destroy you."

My heart thunders in my ears as I push myself back.

"Good girl." He tucks a towel under me and then leans across to pull at something attached to the corner of the bed. "What's your safe word, Charlotte?"

My breath stutters and I can only shake my head.

"Pick one." He sets my wrist on the bed, loops a silky rope around it, and then presses my thigh open, running the rope over it and back to my wrist, securing both tightly to the bed.

Fuck. A flood of heat rushes through me, and I worry for a split second that he's going to see me dripping on his bed, but the thought is gone as fast as it came, replaced by the primal need to relinquish control.

"Give me a safe word, Charlotte," he growls, his words sound like a warning. A promise.

My brain isn't working, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. "Kelly Clarkson?"

He stops in the middle of tying my other leg, staring at me for a second before barking out a laugh. "God, I fucking love you," he chuckles as he ties the last knot.

I don't have time to process his words before he kneels in front of me, his pupils blown wide as he looks at me spread open for him. "Fucking hell," he groans, his gaze pinned between my thighs as he drags his thumb through my arousal and then down to circle my ass.

"Please, Jack," I whisper.

"Please, what?" he purrs, lightly running the tip of his finger over my clit.

"Lick me, bite me, fuck me. I don't care what you do," I sob, "I need to come."

"Like this?" He runs his tongue along the crease of my thigh. I struggle against the ropes, desperate to hold his head where I want it. His gaze locks with mine as he runs his tongue through my center, dipping inside, lapping me up like I'm the best thing he's ever tasted.

Fuck.

I whimper as he pushes his tongue against my clit. I jerk against him as he sucks me into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. I moan, so close to tipping over the edge. He pulls away but doesn't give me time to protest before pushing two fingers into me, curling them, and massaging that spot until I can barely breathe.

"I feel like I'm going to pee," I say, the pressure building.

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