Page 19 of The Rest is History

I pull my face away and she bows her head, resting her forehead on her arms. I seal my lips to the back of her neck and glory in the sensory overwhelm of my fingers moving through her wetness.

I find her entrance and I push two in. Hard.

Sudden. She gasps and grinds back on my fingers, and so much blood rushes to my cock that I think I may pass out.

I screw my eyes closed and focus on the job at hand, my lips sucking hard at the back of her neck.

I know this will mark her, but I can’t help myself. Can’t stop myself from devouring her skin. From wanting to mark her. Claim her.

‘That feel good?’ I grind out the words against her luscious skin. I’m thrusting my fucking codpiece, because I can’t not, but my dick is really just hitting my arm.

‘It feels unbelievable,’ she whimpers.

I keep my fingers thrusting at a steady pace, but I can’t get to her clit at this angle.

Fuck. I pull them out and spin her around.

And oh my God, is this better. I back her up to the wall and bundle the offending skirts up between us.

Her head hits the wall, and she gazes up at me through hooded eyes as my fingers find her centre once more.

I hold eye contact as they ram home again.

At this angle, I can crook them in a way that has her arching further against me.

And when I add my thumb and find her clit, circling it with a firm pressure—because we both know she’s way past the point of wanting to be teased—I have the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen before her head tips back, her white throat exposed for me.

She’s biting down on her lip, and I want it for myself.

‘Look at me,’ I tell her, and she obliges, eyes glassy. ‘You are un-fucking-believable, you know that? Sexiest little thing I’ve ever seen. And you feel like fucking heaven.’

I add a third finger, and she sags against me like her legs are giving out on her. My thumb continues its rhythmical orbit. I can feel her clit filling up with even more blood under my touch.

‘Are you hard?’ she slurs, sliding a hand between our bodies, our sleeves brushing.

‘Harder than I’ve ever been in my life,’ I tell her, leaning in to capture her mouth again.

She squeezes, and my cock jumps, but there’s so much fucking padding that neither of us can feel much.

‘I can’t feel you properly.’

‘I know. Fucking codpiece.’

‘Are you going to fuck me?’ she whispers.

‘Not here.’ I nip at her neck before kissing the skin. ‘Even though I’ve never wanted to do anything so much.’

‘But I want you to,’ she says, and I smile at the pout in her voice.

‘I’m going to make you come. Hard,’ I promise her.

She arches her body against me again, and my fingers celebrate the responsiveness of the warm, swollen flesh around them.

She’s so fucking close. I’ve increased the pace of my circles, my thrusts, without noticing.

She finds my mouth with hers and our tongues clash as mine probes at the same pace as my fingers.

Fuck, she’s so slippery under me. Her hips are rolling in small circles as I touch her, and her moans match the rhythm of my strokes. I make my thumb taut. Rub her clit harder as I bury my fingers up to the hilt inside her.

And she comes. Around me, against me, her moans becoming cries, her fingernails digging into the back of my neck, her entire body wracked with shudders and my hand slick with the evidence as I work through her orgasm, eking it out as long as I can.

I marvel at the sounds she’s making, the way my fingers have taken her over the edge, and, most of all, the fact that she’s let me.

So many months. So many fucking months of sleepless nights, of torrid fantasies and yearning, starving, desperate peeks at her, and here we are. My fingers and tongue are inside her body , and she’s opened herself up to me enough to grant me the indescribable pleasure of making her come.

I continue to kiss her as her climax ebbs away, gently pulling out my hand. I’m on a precipice, so close to fucking exploding and yet brought to my knees by awe.

And I can’t resist.

I release her mouth and bring my soaked fingers to my own mouth, slipping two of them past my lips and sucking. My eyes drift closed in ecstasy.

Fuck. Me.

She tastes so fucking good.

God, I should have stayed on my knees. Bent her over that table and hitched up those skirts and brought her to orgasm with my tongue.

I thought feeling her come on my fingers would ruin me, but tasting her sends me over the edge.

When I open my eyes, she’s trying to catch her breath and staring at me, wide-eyed. Her face is flushed and sated and I fucking love it. I slowly pull my fingers out of my mouth and her gaze follows their trail.

‘Oh my God,’ she murmurs, like she hasn’t quite recovered the power of speech yet.

‘Exquisite,’ I tell her, and I swear she flushes.

I curl my other hand around her neck. Tasting her has made me even harder, if that’s possible. I want to lay her down on the floor and bury my face between her legs. But what I really need to do is shoot my load. Desperately.

My thumb scrapes over her jaw, and I try to keep my voice steady.

‘I need to go and—um—take care of business.’

She reaches for me. ‘No. Charlie, I want to make you come.’

Oh my God.

Oh my dear heavenly Father.

Charlie, I want to make you come.

I practically explode then and there. With great difficulty, I shake my head at her.

‘Nope. No need. This was about you, not me. Showing you how incredible you are.’

She narrows her eyes. ‘I thought it might have been about teaching me who’s boss.’

I swallow a smile. ‘That too.’

Reluctantly, I drop my hand.

‘You’re perfection,’ I tell her.

As I stumble out of the room in search of the nearest loo, she calls out, ‘If that’s how you show me who’s boss, I’m already planning my next misdemeanour.’

Dear God.

I don’t stand a chance.