Page 12 of Charm

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Vincent!” I snap, the sass turning to a moan as the thick head of his cock wedges its way into me. Rubbing against him the way I had been prepared me for him to be big, but the reality of his size has me gasping.

“It’s not hypocrisy to want to kill anyone who might walk on this earth believing they had any claim to you,” he snarls.“You. Belong. To. Me.” He punctuates each word with small thrusts that force his way deeper and deeper inside me, until my backside is flush with his lap.

“Then you’re all mine,” I argue back, breathless from being so full it feels as if my organs are being rearranged to make room for him.

“Until I take my last breath, kitten,” he vows.

The promise, so freely and fiercely given, sets something free inside me, and my body responds with abandon. I bounce and grind with no rhythm, just instinct, while his hands grip my hips so tight, guiding me, that I know I’ll have bruises. In minutes, or maybe hours, my orgasm crashes through me. Muscles I haven’t thought about in years lock so tight I can barely move. Vincent continues working my body over him, as if I’m his personal sex toy, until he follows me over the edge and I feel his hot cum streaking my insides.

Later, when everything is still again, I lie with my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. My hair is a mess. The sheets are twisted everywhere, and his arm is wrapped around me as if it never plans to leave. I trace a lazy circle on his chest.

“Well,” I say.

“Well?” he echoes.

“That definitely distracted me from the scary noises outside.”

“Happy to be of service.” His chest shakes with quiet laughter.

“Did the guys ever figure out what was out there? Or did my overactive imagination keep everyone up all night?” I ask. Part of me expects him to deflect, to tell me this is club business and to stay out of it the way the motorcycle guys in television shows would.

“Unsure. Let’s find out.” His offer is so casual, including me so easily, it makes my heart soar. We have so much to learn about one another. This whole love at first sight thing still feeling impossible. But every time a moment happens when I expect to see a red flag, Doctor Vincent Charmden wows me with nothing but green ones.

He rolls away just long enough to snag his phone and a television remote from the table beside the bed, returning to pull me back into the cradle of his arms.

“Whatever it is, and however this plays out, you’re staying put here with me. Got it?” He’s not asking, but I answer anyway.

“Yup. I got you,” I say. Because seriously, I really think I do.