Page 77 of Charlie

"Like you want me to drop to my knees right here in the hallway and make you come until you beg me to stop."

"Yes, please."

He grins and scoops me up before walking into the room and tossing me onto a gigantic four-poster bed. He crawls up after me, sliding his body over mine. "You better fuck them quick, Charlie."

I moan, his words sending tremors through my body. I frame his face with my hands and pull him to me, nipping at his bottom lip before kissing him deeply.

"What magic is in your kisses that I would willingly drown in them, little witch?" He asks, pulling away with a groan. He rubs his nose against mine before rolling off of me. "I have to shower before we take this any further. Give me twenty minutes?"

I nod, wanting to ask to join him but also respecting how he must feel after a full day of traveling. "Let me know if you need help," I say, giving him an exaggerated wink.

"Trust me, we'll be in the shower together by morning. Why don't you relax while you wait? There's a small bar by the terrace – make us a couple of drinks?"

"Okay." I smile as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. My breath is ripped from my lungs as I'm reminded of what he looks like under his button-downs and chinos. I've never had the time or light to appreciate him properly, but today – with the opulence of his room as a backdrop – is the perfect opportunity. He finishes with the last button and slides the shirt off his shoulders, lithe muscles flexing as he pulls it off and lays it over a chair. The veins riding over his biceps and forearms are blue smudges under almost translucent skin.

"Don't look at me like that," he breathes, his nostrils flaring as he pulls his belt from the loops in one fluid motion.

"Like what?" Like I need him like I need the air I breathe? Like he's the last morsel of food on this island? Like he's a piece of my heart that I just realized has been missing my entire life?

"Like you'd rather lick every part of me if it meant I didn't have to leave you to shower." He grabs my ankles and pulls me to the end of the bed.

I wrap my legs around him as he hovers over me, making me want things I can't have. "I'll do way more than lick you," I say, my voice husky with need.

He chuckles. "I'm sure you will, my beautiful girl." He peppers kisses over my cheek and down my neck, one hand sliding under my shirt and closing over my breast. I arch into him, urging him on. He pulls my bra to the side and rolls my nipple between his fingers until I'm writhing under him.

"Cam, please," I moan.

He groans, breathing me in before sucking my nipple into his mouth, pulling until my toes curl. Until I'm rocking against him, my body begging him for more.

"You're so pretty when you beg," he growls, his gaze roaming over my body, branding me. "Do it again."

Fuck. I clamp my jaw shut, but he only has to roll his hips against me one more time for me to crack. "Please."

"Tell me what you want."

He moves to my other breast, sucking my nipple into his mouth with one long, hard pull.

"Fuck!" I sob, squirming under him.

"Tell me," he demands.

"I—" I groan and grind against him as he pulls me back into his mouth. "I want your mouth—" He slides his hands down my waist, licking a line down the center of my abdomen. I whimper when he reaches my waistband, groaning when he stops.

"I'm waiting, little witch."

"I want you to fuck me with your tongue," I say, the last words coming out on a sob as he rips off my pants and underwear and fastens his mouth to my clit. My mouth opens on a silent scream as he pushes two fingers into me, and I come apart, my world fracturing into a million facets, his face reflecting from every single one of them.

41

I'm staring up at the angels on the ceiling, boneless and breathless. I wonder if they're judging me. I study them. Bare breasts. Rosy cheeks. Hell, maybe they like watching. I chuckle to myself and sit up as I hear Cam start the shower. I have to hunt for my underwear but leave my pants on the floor – there's no point in putting them on when he's just going to be taking them off later. I would never admit it to the guys, but I wish I had one more time alone with Cam. Every time I think back to the night in the bookstore I come undone.

I walk to his dresser on shaky legs and pick up a family picture framed in gold. Cam is front and center – maybe a year old – his parents looking down at him with absolute adoration in their eyes. A faded polaroid is propped up next to it. Much younger versions of Jack, Lach, and Cam smile at the camera, their arms around each other – that kind of easy camaraderie that only comes from knowing someone your entire life. Judging by how young and carefree they look, the picture must have been taken in their first year of university. I wish I had known them back then. My life would have been so different.

I make my way over to the bar cabinet, pausing at the terrace doors to admire the view of the expansive grounds. Hundred-year-old trees pepper the manicured lawn, birds flitting in and out of their branches. I open the doors and breathe in the bite of the air. Cam may call me a witch, but the real magic is in the walls of this place. I can feel the history waiting to be discovered, the vignettes begging to be painted.

A heather-scented breeze ruffles the sheer curtains covering the windows as I poke around in the liquor cabinet. I keep it simple and pull out bottles of whisky, simple syrup, and lemon juice. It won't be as good as freshly made and pressed, but I have a feeling that we won't be paying attention to what the drink tastes like anyway. I'm stirring the cocktails with my finger – after an unfruitful search for a utensil – when Cam comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He leans against the doorframe, watching me.

I freeze mid-stir. "What?"

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