Page 15 of Unearthed Dreams (Sable Point #3)

Chapter Fourteen

KAI

This was wrong. So fucking wrong.

But I couldn’t stop. Not with Charlie pressed against me, making those little desperate sounds in the back of her throat. Not with her hands fisted in my shirt like she was afraid I’d push her away again. And Christ, I should. I should stop this right now.

But she’d hit the nail on the head. Seeing another man put his hands on her had done something to me. Sapped all logical thought from my brain. And when he came up to order a beer? So fucking polite and hipster-cool, I wanted to pummel him just for existing.

She was mine.

And when she nipped at my bottom lip, clearly mimicking something she’d read in one of her romance novels, my control snapped. I growled against her mouth, sliding my hands down to grip her thighs. She gasped as I lifted her, instinctively wrapping her legs around my waist.

“Hold on,” I murmured against her lips, not willing to break the kiss even as I carried her through the dark hallway toward the stairs.

Her fingers threaded through my hair, tugging lightly, and I nearly stumbled.

Jesus. Everything about her was so fucking innocent, and here I was, corrupting her in the worst possible way.

The stairs were a challenge. I had to focus on not killing us both while Charlie’s mouth traced a burning path down my neck. My grip on her thighs tightened as I shouldered open my apartment door, kicking it shut behind us.

I was going to hell for this. But at least the trip would be worth it.

The taste of beer on her tongue finally registered through the haze of want, and guilt slammed into me. Fuck. She’d been drinking. And here I was, taking advantage.

“Charlie.” I pulled back, sliding her down my body even as she chased my lips. “Charlie, wait.”

“No more waiting.” Her fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt, and I caught her wrists gently.

“You’ve been drinking.”

She scoffed. “Barely.”

“Still.” I pressed my forehead against hers, trying to steady my breathing. “We need to slow down.”

“I don’t want to slow down.” Her lips found my neck again, and Christ, she was going to kill me.

“Just kissing,” I said firmly, though it took every ounce of willpower I possessed. “Nothing more. Not tonight.”

Sighing, she pulled away, lower lip caught between her teeth in a way that made me want to bite it myself. “Then let me stay? ”

I should say no. Should send her home. Should do anything except what I was about to do.

“I’ll get you something to sleep in.”

I dug through my dresser, pulling out an old t-shirt. “Here. I’ll... I’ll turn around.”

The soft sounds of her undressing nearly broke my resolve. When I heard her slip between the sheets, I changed quickly into gym shorts and a tee.

She was already asleep when I climbed into bed. I lay rigid on my back, arms behind my head, staring at the ceiling, wondering what circle of hell was reserved for men who let innocent girls sleep in their beds.

Then she shifted in her sleep, curling against my side like she belonged there. Her head found my chest, one small hand fisting in my shirt, and something in my chest cracked open.

It had been years since I’d slept with a woman. And this one curled up next to me? She was everything I didn’t deserve. Everything I shouldn’t want. Everything I couldn’t have.

But as her warm breath fanned across my chest, as her fingers tightened in my shirt when I shifted slightly, I knew I was completely fucked.

Because Charlie Everton had somehow slipped past every wall I’d built, every defense I’d constructed, and lodged herself firmly in my chest where I couldn’t dig her out.

Chase was going to kill me. Her family would probably help.

But with Charlie’s soft weight pressed against me, her leg tangled with mine like she’d always slept there, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was in so much fucking trouble.

Dark hair spilled across my pillow, Charlie’s lips slightly parted.

Kelsey had always slept sprawled out, taking up the whole damn bed like she owned it.

But Charlie... she curled in on herself, like she was trying to take up as little space as possible, and something about that made my chest tight.

Having her this close all night, smelling like strawberries and something uniquely her, had my body wound tight as a spring.

My cock was painfully hard, and watching her shift in her sleep, that oversized t-shirt riding up to reveal a slice of tanned thigh, wasn’t helping things.

I eased myself off the mattress, each movement careful and measured. The last thing I needed was to wake her and have her see exactly what effect she had on me. The bathroom tiles were cold under my feet as I closed the door behind me with a quiet click.

Bracing one hand against the cool granite of the counter, I shoved my boxers down with the other.

Jesus Christ, I was acting like some teenager who couldn’t control himself.

But the memory of her pressed against my chest, the soft weight of her head resting there, her little sighs.

.. I gripped my cock, already leaking at the tip.

Just a few minutes to take the edge off.

My strokes started slow but quickly gained urgency, blood pounding in my ears as pressure built at the base of my spine. I was right there, right on the fucking edge when?—

The door flew open with a bang that nearly stopped my heart.

And there stood Charlie, sleep-rumpled and gorgeous in that damn t-shirt that did nothing to hide the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra, her nipples visible through the thin fabric.

“Oh my god!” She slapped a hand over her eyes, spinning around so fast she stumbled.

The movement caused my shirt to ride up, showing off smooth legs that I desperately wanted wrapped around me.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t thinking—I just woke up and had to pee and—” Her voice was high-pitched, breathless.

“Charlie…”

She started to turn just her head, hand still firmly covering her eyes, and my cock twitched at how fucking adorable she was, even now.

“Look at me, pretty girl.”

Those fingers parted slightly, and I caught a flash of deep blue eyes, carefully fixed on my face. Her chest heaved, and I could see her pulse fluttering in her throat.

“You wanna give me a hand?”

That blush deepened, spreading down her neck toward her chest. She shuffled on her feet. “I—um—what?”

I kept stroking myself, slower now, drawing out the moment. My mind raced ahead to all the things I wanted to teach her, show her. “Take off your panties.”

“What?” Her voice cracked on the word.

“Are you wet for me?” The thought of her aroused, standing just feet away, had me gritting my teeth against the surge of need.

“Y-yes.” The admission was barely a whisper.

“Good. Take off your panties and hand them to me.” I shouldn’t push this far, shouldn’t ask this of her, but I was past the point of making sane decisions .

“O-okay.” She wobbled as she tried to maneuver out of her underwear while keeping herself covered, colliding with the doorframe with a soft “shoot” that was so purely Charlie. Her hand extended behind her, handing the scrap of cotton like some kind of erotic offering.

“Turn around, Charlie. You’re gonna watch.” The command came out gentle, giving her the chance to refuse.

But she didn’t. She turned slowly, like a flower seeking sunlight, and finally let her gaze drop. The sharp intake of breath when she saw my cock, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips—it sent electricity down my spine.

Taking her panties, I brought them to my face and inhaled deeply, groaning at the heady scent of her arousal. Christ, what I wouldn’t give to bury my face between her thighs, to taste her properly, to feel her come apart on my tongue.

My strokes grew faster, rougher, spurred on by her wide-eyed stare. She was squirming now, pressing her thighs together, teeth worrying at that full bottom lip in a way that made me want to soothe it with my tongue.

“Touch yourself.”

The whimper that escaped her went straight to my cock. Her hand disappeared between her thighs, and I could see the subtle movement as she worked herself, using the techniques I’d taught her. The thought of her learning pleasure from me, because of me, was intoxicating.

“How many times?”

She was panting, chest heaving. “What?”

“How many times have you made yourself come?”

“Every day.” The words tumbled out, breathy and honest.

Something snapped inside me—some final thread of control.

The growl that tore from my throat was pure animal need.

The image of her lying in her bedroom in her parents’ home, trying to stay quiet as she got herself off when I could be the one drawing those sounds from her.

.. it filled me with a possessive rage I barely recognized.

“Stop.”

Her hand froze, mid-motion. I let her panties fall to the floor, released my grip on my cock. The throbbing need could wait.

“It’s my turn.”

And then I was on her, crushing my mouth to hers with all the pent-up desperation of weeks of wanting.

Her legs wrapped around my waist instinctively as I lifted her, and the feel of her warmth pressed against my bare cock nearly undid me.

I carried her to the bed, laying her down like something precious.

The contrast of her smooth skin against my calloused hands made me dizzy with want. She trembled beneath me, those doe eyes wide and trusting as I traced the curve of her jaw with my thumb. God, she was so fucking responsive, arching into every touch like she was starving for it.

“You sure about this, pretty girl?” Every cell in my body screamed at me to take, claim, possess—but this was Charlie. Sweet, innocent Charlie who deserved better than some quick fuck in my messy apartment.

She nodded frantically, fingers tangling in my hair. “Please, Kai. I want—I need?—”