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I'm falling deeper and deeper down his rabbit hole with every day that passes; emotionally spiraling out of control when he first cuddles me.
We're sitting at the dining table, having just eaten an early breakfast. He’s staring at me for a while—I can sense it—until he tries to pull me onto his lap. I'm so caught off guard because I’m absorbed in doing a crossword that I actually ask, “What are you doing?” stopping him with an uplifted hand.
Grinning, and ignoring my warning stare, he pinches the pen out of my hand and flings it on the table. He then grabs my hips and effortlessly lifts me up over his lap so we're face to face, my legs dangling on either side of his waist. His hard cock is pressed against my sex, stirring my arousal, and I can't help letting out a heavy moan.
His pupils expand when I moan like that, the blueness turning black with ardor.
We look right at each other, as I put my hands on his tough chest to control the rage within me. He reaches over my shoulder to let out my hair; breathes in the smell as it falls around my body like a dark red cape.
“I want you to always wear your hair down,” he says. Tipping his head, he gazes at me with stark concentration. “Unless we're in the ring sparring.”
Swallowing past the tightness in my throat, I nod. He leans down to kiss my mouth then with a raspy groan, taking me in a dark, ardent kiss.
I watch him, hypnotized by the blue-blackness in his eyes.
The sun rising behind us, the kitchen is burning in orange rays, making this moment that much more beautiful. Now, every moment with him is beautiful to me.
Charlie cups my face, covering my cheeks in his large, callous hands. He massages his tongue across mine, slowly, hungrily, and sucks the tilt, making my stomach whirl in sensations. He then runs his fingers into my hair to wrap his arms around me and holds me to him, body to body.
I break away from our kiss because I have a sudden need to huddle in his chest; to rest my head under his chin, so I do. I shut my eyes and exhale a sigh of contentment. I'm not sure why but in this moment, I feel... whole. Safe and whole. I don't ever want to leave him. Whenever I think about going home, it brings me to the verge of tears.
He strokes up and down my back for a while in silence, and I'm sinking into him—like I used to sink into Maksim—listening to his heart beating at a steady pace. Breathing in his scent.
I've never felt, cherished? before, if I can even use that word, but I do when Charlie holds me like this. It tells me that this isn't just sexual. He wouldn't waste time cuddling me if it was.
“Blaire,” he whispers after a while, “have you given living in Mexico a second thought?”
He's asked me this a few times now, though in a less obvious manner.
Lifting my eyes to his, I say, “Do you know something I don't?”
“What'd you mean?” He stares at me as if I'm the only person in the world, his eyes glued to mine.
“Well...” I tuck a length of hair behind my ear, “you keep asking me about Mexico. Is Maksim moving there or something?” The thought has crossed my mind more than once but I've never said anything up until now. “Did he tell you when you visited him?”
Charlie doesn't answer my question—he doesn't even attempt to—he just gives me this look that's filled with zealous obsession.
I know he wants something from me—I can feel the sexual energy coming off him in waves—so I give it to him, and with pleasure.
Crawling back off his lap, I get down on my knees so I can satisfy him, crouching between his legs. I reach for the waist of his joggers but he stops me.
“No, baby,” he husks out, brushing my hair back out of my face. “I don't want that.”
I gaze up at him from between his legs, pleading with my eyes for him to elaborate because I don't have the courage to ask, 'what do you want then?'
Gripping my forearm, Charlie guides me to my feet and tells me to take off my trainers. I do, and I also peel off my socks. He tugs down my sports trousers and pants with one hand, his eyes with mine the entire time.
“You're so pretty,” he whispers. Pulling me forward with still holding my arm, he makes me straddle him. He feels so masculine under me, like a fortress of man, and I feel so vulnerable.
“I could stare at you all, day, long.” Inclining forward, he kisses my lips once. “I can't imagine a day without seeing you anymore.”
My stomach knots. I'm still not used tothis,his sexual attention or the way he freely confesses what he's thinking.
Shifting me on his lap, he pulls down the waist of his joggers, freeing his hard cock.
“Charlie?” I say, worried. He's never done this before.
“Don't be scared.” He grips the small of my back and pulls me closer, putting us chest to chest, squashing my breasts.
