Page 122 of The Rest is History
And I surrender. To his passion. To this relentless onslaught. To being his. For the second time, I hurtle into a vortex where the world outside dulls and stills and I’m pure, heavenly sensation, rapture coursing through my veins, rendering me blind and inarticulate and useless.
It feels fucking amazing. Like being turned inside out by this man. Reborn.
As my body convulses and my most intimate muscles seize, he follows me over the edge with a shout offuckthat’s raw and triumphant and incredulous. He grips me hard as he releases everything he has inside of me, and then he’s collapsing on me, raining kisses down my back.
He slides out of me and pulls me in next to him, nose to nose, one muscular, hairy leg wrapped around my thighs like the best kind of vice. He presses his forehead to mine.
‘Fuck, sweetheart.’
His hand comes around my neck and strokes my skin. Featherlight.
‘Fuck indeed,’ I slur.
‘To think I was going to try to live without that.’
His fingers on my neck give me goosebumps.
‘That’s why you’re a stupid idiot. I knew we couldn’t live without it.’
‘Fair.’
‘I’m not letting you pull any more stunts, Charlie,’ I warn him. I trace a line down his neck. Between his pecs. ‘I love you, and you say you love me, so no more flipping out about whether you can make me happy.’
He grips my neck more tightly. ‘Happiness is about more than just orgasms, you know, El.’
I mock-frown. ‘You sure about that?’
That earns me a little smile, the sexiest creases bracketing his mouth. ‘You’re not getting rid of me, even if you are just usingme for orgasms. I love you too much. There’s no going back now.’
‘No going back,’ I echo. That sounds really, really good. I press my lips gently to his and revel in the miracle that is this man.
This connection.
This moment, after all the shit he’s put us both through.
My stomach rumbles loudly, and he laughs against my mouth. ‘I’ll make us some supper shortly. Once my legs have stopped trembling.’
I sigh happily. ‘You’re literally perfect, you know?’
‘I’m far from that.’ He brushes his fingers along the nape of my neck, leaving a scattering of goosebumps in their wake. ‘But you love me, for some reason, and I’ll take that gift and spend every day making sure you don’t regret coming back for me.’
‘I’ll never regret it,’ I say, and he rolls me onto my back. I watch him through sleepy eyes—nothing like a couple of earth-shattering orgasms to wring a girl out—and marvel at the deliciousness of being here, in Charlie’s bed. Of being caged in by him.
‘I never want to leave your bed,’ I tell him.
‘Then don’t.’ He dips his head and kisses me so softly it makes my heart hurt. ‘Come and live with me.’
I gasp. ‘Charlie.’
Another kiss. ‘I know you want to help your sister. But if and when you decide she’s got this, I want as much of you as I can get. Especially if we won’t be working together anymore.’
I attempt to process what he’s saying. He’s offering up everything he has to me. A place in his wonderful home. As much of himself as he can give me. He closed himself off from me, and now he’s opening up like a flower in the sun and it’s beautiful.
‘I want that too,’ I tell him. ‘But—do you really mean that? It’s an amazingly generous offer, but we just got back together. Maybe you should think about it.’
‘It’s all I think about.’ His lips brush my nose. My cheek. My forehead. ‘All I fucking think about is how much light you brought into my world when I had you, and how this house feels like a mausoleum when you’re not here. It’s not generous. It’s selfish. I have three fantasies.’ He pauses.
‘Tell me.’
