Page 121 of The Rest is History
He takes my other nipple in his mouth and sucks. Hard. Oh, Jesus Christ. I buck.
‘And this.’
He rears up onto his knees and runs a finger up my inner thigh, before crouching so he can follow the trail with his tongue.
‘I couldn’t even taste you,’ he whispers. ‘That’s not fair. Is it?’
‘No,’ I practically moan.
‘All I could think about in those assemblies where I sat next to you was how good you’d taste. It’s all I can ever think about. Can you imagine what that does to a man?’
‘No… yes?’
‘It makes himfucking. Insane.’ He pauses, and licks me with one long, perfect stroke, all the way from my entrance up to my clit.
Oh, holy fuck. Oh my God.
Charlie groans. ‘Fucking hell, El. God, I could live here.’ He manoeuvres himself lower onto his stomach for better access and touches his tongue to my flesh again. It’s so good. He’s so damn good at this, and knowing how obsessed he is with this particular activity makes it far easier for me to relax and take his attention greedily.
Two fingers probe my entrance and push in hard. I inhale sharply as I adjust around them. His supple tongue weaves its way through my flesh, licking through folds and rolling around my clit with perfect pressure, and his fingers find a rhythm, thrusting and crooking.
He’s launched a ruthless sensory assault, and I’m utterly powerless to do anything but lie there and take it, my arms flung uselessly above my head as my primal responses take over and my nerve endings flood my body with indescribable pleasure.
‘I can’t last,’ I warn him breathlessly as I writhe. ‘It’s too good.’
He pulls his mouth away as he continues to finger fuck me. ‘You can last longer, sweetheart.’
‘I can’t,’ I whimper. ‘I don’t want to. Been too long. Please, Charlie. I need to come. Please.’
‘You know I can’t say no to you, don’t you?’ he growls, eyes practically all pupil as he makes eye contact across the length of my body. ‘Especially when you beg me like that, sweetheart.’
And then he dips his head again, and he’s back there, tongue flat and rough, lapping rhythmically exactly where I need it. He reaches up and pinches my nipple hard, and I fall apart, my consciousness shattering into a million pieces as wave upon wave of pleasure rolls relentlessly over me. I shudder through my orgasm, only vaguely aware that I’m crying out Charlie’s name and he’s gripping my breast in response before dragging his hand over the skin of my stomach.
Suddenly he’s up and flipping me over onto my front. I need him filling me up so badly. He slides a hand under me and tugs my bum up into the air. I’m a rag doll, limp with pleasure, still trembling and catching my breath as I stretch my arms out in front of me and brace.
‘Fuck, El.’ Charlie’s voice is rough. Urgent. ‘The things you do to me. You make me so fucking crazy. I’m doing that again later.’
I shiver with delight as he drags the crown of his dick through my sensitised flesh.
‘Look at you. Justlookat you.’
And then he’s lining himself up with my entrance and pushing in, harder than I expect. I gasp at the shock and the delicious pleasure of him filling me up in exactly the way I need. ‘Oh myGod.’
‘You can take it, sweetheart,’ he says, thrusting again, and Jesus, he’s so big. This angle makes him feel bigger. He’s deep inside me already and I know he’s not even all the way in yet,but his praise has me pushing back against him the next time he moves, and then he’s bottoming out in me.
‘Fuck,’he grunts. ‘Fuck, El.’ He runs a hand up my back, over the bumps of my spine, kneading and squeezing my neck. I twist around, pressing my cheek to the pillow so I can sneak a look. God, this position is hot. Charlie’s other hand is gripping my hip, he’s up on his knees and his face is contorted with desire.
‘Ready?’ he grits out, and I get the sense that he may as well have saidbuckle up, baby.
‘Give it to me,’ I say, and he huffs out an anguished laugh, pulling out before driving forward.
Shit. My fingers scrabble at the sheets, and I press my cheek against the mattress. He pulls out. Thrusts back in. The pace is leisurely, but the intensity is punishing, and every drive fills me just beyond my comfort zone, forcing the very breath out of me as I struggle to accommodate him.
My consciousness narrows to Charlie hitting that spot deep inside me over and over and over with perfect aim. To the sounds of our ragged breaths and of flesh slapping against flesh. To his low, deep moans that build in sync with the force of his thrusts and the pressure inside my body.
He removes his hand from my neck and tightens both hands around my hips, holding me in place so he can fuck me more deeply. I’m slick with sweat now and heavy with the weight of unreleased pleasure deep and low in my body, even as my centre grows tender from the unreserved pounding Charlie’s giving it.
I can feel his movements growing more desperate. Less controlled. His hands slide up my waist before settling back on my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. There’s something so primal and dirty and uncompromising about this position. About being so completely in Charlie’s hands as he unleashes himself on my body.
