HAVING CHARLI IN my bed was supposed to eliminate the morning jerk-off session, not make it worse. Damn, it was all I could do to get in the shower and not lose it all over the bathroom floor, especially as our wet clothes from last night’s shower greeted me, sprawled all over the floor.
Earlier this morning, I’d sent a text to Isaac to have him send me another pair of shoes. I’d planned for clothes, but who in the hell stepped into a shower with their shoes on? The answer would be me. Not that I’d ever done anything like that before. Then again, I’d never been so fucking drunk with the combination of passion and rage that I didn’t know if I was coming or going. Last night I was on the edge of control. Desire and wrath made a lethal concoction, and in the heat of the moment, I wasn’t sure who would survive. Thankfully the only casualties were my Italian loafers.
That was what Charli did to me. She made me into someone else.
Stepping under the cool spray, I fisted my length and closed my eyes as scenes from the same shower the night before played behind my closed eyelids: that ugly red dress falling from her shoulders, exposing her sexy body. Her gaudy makeup and those cheap high-heeled sandals that kept her balance in my control.
My cock hardened as my hand became an unacceptable substitute for her tight, wet pussy.
From the moment I saw her in the bar, I knew I was going to take her hard, but never in a million years did I anticipate how ready she’d be. Her slickness took away any resistance as I spun her around and took what was mine. Unapologetically, I filled her—no warm-up, no being sure she was ready. I pushed balls deep as each thrust drove into her, and my fingers dug into her hips. Primal need told me to pull out, rip off the condom, and release all over her soft skin. I wanted to mark her. I wanted the world to know she was mine. Instead, as soon as I was surrounded by her, I was lost.
Thrust after thrust—she was heaven and I couldn’t or wouldn’t leave.
My balls tightened and fist moved faster. Biting my lip, I recalled her moans echoing throughout the shower stall. Her pussy milking my cock as her body stiffened and her head fell forward. Giving her pleasure wasn’t my goal. Taking it was. However, over and over she imploded. Apparently, even angry sex was beyond description with Charli.
“Fuck.” My forehead hit the wall as string after string of come painted the tile. “Shit,” I murmured as my shoulders shuddered and I blinked, bringing the world around me back into focus.
I might have told myself I was punishing her by withholding my cock, but standing under the cool spray, it was pretty fucking obvious that she wasn’t the only one suffering.
Stepping back upon the soft carpet of the bedroom, dripping wet, I was happy to find the room empty. I’d tried to stay quiet, but with what only thoughts of her did to me, I’d probably failed. The last thing I wanted was for her to know the power she had or how badly I wanted her.
Once I was dressed for work, I took a deep breath and headed for the living room. With the door barely opened, I stopped to appreciate the view. She was a vision, sitting on the sofa with her knees near her chest and her phone in her hand. Charli was so engrossed in whatever she was reading, she didn’t see or hear me. I stared, wondering if she had any idea how gorgeous she was. Had anyone ever told her? Maybe her unpretentiousness was part of her allure. Somehow, with that beautiful hair, now sexy and wild, her mesmerizing eyes, and perfect body, she didn’t seem to realize what she did to me.
The idea that she needed all that makeup or a garish outfit to stand out was absurd. It was wrong on her. Alexandria Collins—my Charli—exuded elegance and culture with the perfect hint of sexy vixen. It was a unique blend of perfect qualities. I didn’t know anything about her, not really. I knew that for a week I’d made her a princess, and with everything in me, I wanted that title for her for a lifetime.
When she looked up and her eyes met mine, I consciously returned my expression to one of disinterest, the exact opposite of what I felt. Though difficult to maintain, I resisted the urge to smile. Judging by the way she frowned and lowered her eyes back to her phone, I’d succeeded.
I could have walked out. I could have avoided twisting the proverbial knife, but I told her the truth when I said I was bad. I had one of the best teachers and too many years to perfect the craft. The words and cold tone came with ease.
“Coffee?” I asked, nodding toward the cup on the table beside her.
“Yes. You’re incredibly perceptive. Was it the cup or the aroma that gave it away?”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“Neither am I. Tomorrow you’ll make my cup first. I take it black.”
Her golden eyes swirled with sadness as they found mine, yet her words were crisp and precise. “I remember how you like your coffee. I didn’t realize cook and maid were part of my job description.”
Damn, her spunk turned me on. I moved closer and gestured for her to stand. When she did, the robe she wore gaped open ever so slightly, allowing me a glimpse of her tits. They weren’t as visible as I would have liked, but with only the sides of her round globes showing, my cock thickened, twitching back to life. Lifting her chin, I brought her eyes to mine, and my tone turned purposely condescending. “Yes, Nox,” I began, “I’ll make you coffee and do whatever else you tell me to do.”
Her stance stiffened before she repeated my words.
“Was that too difficult? If it was, I’d be glad to bend you over this sofa…” I looked out the large windows to the park and beyond. “…in front of half of New York City and give you a reason to remember.”
“No, it wasn’t difficult.”
Releasing her chin, I brushed her lips with mine. My grin grew. “I think I’d like that. I’d like to bend you over the arm of the sofa, lift this robe…” I teased the lapels and dragged my finger from her tits up to her collarbone. “…and admire your round ass. Then, I’d decide if I would spank you or fuck you.”
Her eyes closed as her head wobbled.
“Next, I’d decide if I’d leave you that way, your ass exposed and thighs slick, or if I’d allow you to cover yourself up before my security arrived.”
Charli’s eyes opened wide as she took a step back. “What? No.”
I lifted my brow. “Excuse me?”
“You said I don’t have a say in my limits, but I still have them. I’m with you. Only you.”
“Says the woman who signed away her rights. Says the woman who had a man on each arm last night.” I pulled her close. “I told you, I don’t share. No one but me can or will touch.” Her body relaxed in my embrace. “Looking, on the other hand,” I shrugged and went on. “…well, we’ll see how well you can follow my directions. Tonight?”
“Yes, Nox. Tonight, Mobar at seven o’clock. I’ll be there.”
“And tomorrow morning?”
“I’ll make you a cup of coffee.” Her eyes fluttered down.
I rubbed her cheek as a knock echoed from the door to the suite. “That’s a good girl. Are you sure you don’t want to give my security a show. We could just—”
Charli looked up, and on her lips was the first smile I’d seen all morning. My heart stuttered. The honest pleasure made her eyes light like golden reflections from the crowned jewels.
“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “You’re in socks.”
“How very perceptive of you.” I couldn’t help but send her words back at her.
She stifled a laugh. “That’s why your security is coming here. You don’t have shoes to wear.”
“I’m glad you find this humorous.”
She shook her head. “I-I do.”
“Go answer the door.”
Her expression turned suddenly sober as she looked down at the robe. “But, Nox, I’m not decent.”
“You’re also not bent over the sofa, but it can be arranged.”
“They’ll know…”
“That you spent the night with me,” I said, finishing her sentence. “My security will know that I fucked you?”
Another knock came from the door.
“Yes,” she answered, pink filling her cheeks.
“Door or sofa? They can know it or see it. Your choice.”
Charli pulled the lapels together, attempted to smooth her long hair, and tightened the robe’s sash as she walked toward the door. After a glance though the peephole, she turned back my direction, her expression confused. “It’s Mrs. Witt. I thought you said it was security?”
“Open the door, Charli.”