Page 49

CHARLOTTE

S quirt?

How the hell do I do that?

Fuck.

Lifting my head with my thighs spread, the sudden movement causes my collar to press against my windpipe, triggering a cough.

Instead, I lay my head back down and take a deep, calming breath, the silence pressing in on me.

I’ve never done this before.

Can everyone even do it?

I close my eyes and hit the button on my vibrator.

Hearing Tara’s fake and dramatic moans next to me is really fucking off-putting.

This whole damn room is.

Opening my thighs, I graze the tip of the cool object against my clit and imagine the sound of the waves in Italy.

Jimmy’s sandalwood aftershave.

His eyes.

His tongue.

All of it.

If I have any chance of this, it’s his memory.

I completely zone out of the room and transport myself to five years ago.

Almost like a torture technique, but this time I’m immersed in pleasure and sin.

Picturing his handsome face between my legs.

As I slide the toy towards my entrance, I slowly sink it inside me and let out a gasp.

Its deep vibrations make my legs shake instantly.

With every gentle thrust in and out, I replay that earth-shattering night.

The way my pussy stretched around his cock.

How he tended to every inch of me.

My entire body trembles as I up the pace. I switch my brain off from everything else other than this.

Each thrust makes me jerk on the bed, which squeezes the collar on my throat.

My head swims, and I throw my arm over my face, biting down hard enough to taste blood as I try to block out the noise.

I’m so fucking close to falling apart.

Everything is tingling. Something I’ve not experienced in five years.

An orgasm.

“Oh my god,” I whisper and bite into my shaking arm.

I shatter with intensity as I tremble on the leather bed, the sensation almost violent as it courses through me.

The damp heat of my skin makes the fabric stick.

As I come down from my high, I rub my hand over my face and let out a long exhale.

I turn to my right; the dark-haired girl, contestant six, has already been released.

My breathing is shallow and my heart almost races out of my chest.

No one has released me.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

I can’t go again. How the hell do I even do this?

The weight of the world suddenly falls on my chest.

It’s like I can’t breathe. I don’t have the option to fail. Not now when I’m so close to the end.

The cries of the red-haired girl rip through the room, almost animalistic, and my heart sinks as the guard walks over to her table.

I shake my head and slide the vibrator along my slit again.

Nothing. My brain is racing too fast.

It’s almost painful more than anything, and so sensitive. It’s weird.

Tara screams out in frustration, and I can’t help but find it amusing. The big fat dildo isn’t doing quite what she wanted.

Come on, Charlotte. Think. How would you squirt?

It can’t be impossible for me.

I slide the vibrator back inside me and leave it for a few seconds to adjust to it again.

This time I use my imagination for a different scenario. One like I would write. Our “what if?”

Perhaps up against a bookshelf, with his hand around my throat as he whispers in my ear what a good girl I am for him.

Using his fingers like an expert to melt me into a puddle for him.

“Mmmm.” I let the sensations wash over me as I imagine him licking his warm tongue along my jaw before kissing me.

It’s almost like he’s with me now. I can smell that strong aftershave.

“That’s it, good girl, keep going,” a deep Irish voice whispers in my ear.

I freeze.

It’s just like Jimmy. Husky and delicious.

“Keep your brain wherever it was. Go back there and use the hook on your toy as deep as you can. Find that spot and keep hitting it. Put pressure on your lower stomach if you need to. Let it consume you, don’t fight it. Run with it. Let it take over you.”

Holy fuck, his voice.

I open my eyes, and he tuts.

“Close them. Go back there and do as I say.”

The commanding nature of his voice reminds me of him. So I do as he says.

I push in the toy as far as it will go and I jump when it hits that spot, deep in my core.

“That’s a good girl. Keep going,” he whispers so softly.

Biting down on my lip, I keep going.

“Mmm, look at you.” His voice comes from behind my bed, right at the top of my head, where I can feel his hot breath on my scalp.

I press down my free hand on my lower stomach as I think about Jimmy eating me out, using his fingers and tongue. Telling me how good I am. How decadent I taste.

“Fuck, fuck,” I pant out.

“Ride the wave and make it rain, baby.”

I’m shaking like crazy as I pull the toy out and go again.

A heavy pressure builds up in my core, almost like I’m going to explode.

Liquid drips over my hands, and I keep going. Playing out the scene in my head.

“Good fucking girl,” he tells me, and that sets off the fireworks.

I ride it out completely, focusing on only that, as warmth gushes out of me, all down my thighs. I cry out, almost like a feral animal. As my back arches off the bed, my throat is squeezed, and my head fucking spins.

Every muscle screams in victory as I win, a wave of exhaustion and triumph washing over me.

I pull out the toy and hide my face in my arms, trying to regain my breath.

“Congratulations,” he says in a low, deep voice.

My heart fucking stops.

Now I’m coming down from my high. It really fucking sounds just like him.

My mind is playing tricks on me.

It can’t be, can it?