Page 35 of Charlotte's Kisses

She was so tight that he feared splitting her in two. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“It does not hurt,” she panted, her voice husky. “Well, it hurts a tiny bit, but it also feels wonderful.”

Hugh chuckled. Holding her gaze, they became one as he pumped in and out of her tight quim, penetrating deeper with each thrust. Her fingernails grazed his back as her breathless panting and whispered name urged him on.

Was it possible he had never been this deep inside a woman because he had never felt this close to anyone?

His balls tightened, and his heartbeat tripled in speed. He was at the edge, but he could not come yet. Gasping for air, he slid out, holding himself above her.

“No,” she whimpered as her ankles pushed on his back, slamming his hips against hers.

“I’m going to come,” he said. “And I want us to come together.”

“Back inside me. Now,” she demanded.

Charlotte was too intoxicated with pleasure to think, therefore he had to be the voice of reason. He could not just mindlessly plunge into her and fill her full of his seed. But he’d never had any control, and since his brain was currently mush, he thrust back into that warm, inviting cunny.

She pulled his flesh into her mouth and sucked on his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he slammed into her over and over again. The pressure in his body built until it felt as if he no longer fit inside his skin.

The headboard crashed against the wall in a rhythmic beat to the symphony of her erotic murmurs of pleasure. Her silky skin rubbed against him, and the stiff peaks of her nipples scraped his chest. An enchanting glow surrounded her as if she were an angel from heaven—or a glowworm on a hot summer night. Sweat trickled from his forehead, plinking onto herde´colletage.

Her walls quivered.

“That’s it, Charlotte, come for me.”

“Hugh,” she cried out as her eyes rolled back in her head.

His cock pulsated uncontrollably. It was as if he was at the top of a mountain and could fly. “Fuck, Charlotte,” he calledout as he leaped. He shot into another sphere as his seed spattered on her belly.

A warm, tingling sensation traveled through his blood as he tumbled to lay beside her. He was too undone to leave the bed and find a towel, so he used the corner of the counterpane to clean her. Tugging the sticky corner to his side, he covered them.

There was so much he wanted to tell her, but his tongue refused to work. So, he simply kissed her forehead and then wrapped her in his arms.

Charlotte snuggled against him and whispered his name.

He could no longer fight the fuzzy sensation overtaking him, so he closed his eyes and weightlessly drifted off to sleep.

Chapter eighteen

Charlotte awoke before dawnto find the lanterns still lit. She rolled onto her side and studied Hugh. The bruising on his face had yellowed, but his nose was not quite as swollen. Neither thing took away from how handsome he was.

Hugh was wonderful in a million ways. He made her feel special and cherished. He bombarded her with heartfelt compliments without overthinking everything he said like the insincere men of her class. Every single aristocratic male reminded her of Lord Nash. She imagined George in a garish tailcoat and too-high collars juxtaposed against Hugh’s bronzed skin, the corded muscles of his forearms exposed from rolled-up shirt sleeves. There was no comparison. She would choose Hugh’s masculinity every second of every day.

In any other circumstance, she might question a worldly man like Hugh being attracted to someone as sheltered asher. But not after last night. He had placed his head between her thighs and enthusiastically suckled. And his eyes had been filled with affection as he slid in and out of her.

Without a doubt, Hugh Fletcher fancied her as much as she fancied him. She’d never been so sure or confident about anything. She wanted to shout to the world that she wished to officially court Hugh Fletcher. But first, she would tell him how she felt, and if all went as planned, he would confess his deep affection for her. Hopefully, the day passed quickly, because as soon as the sun set, she would return to him.

For now, she would sneak home before anyone discovered her missing. Once her father broke his fast, she would speak her mind.

“Papa, I know that you would like me to make a match with someone who has a title,”she would say. “But I fancy Hugh Fletcher with all of my heart. Although I have known him for mere days, our souls are connected. I would like to live in a small house and have three babies who look like him. I would also like a dog, a kitten, two birds, and a goat. Lucy shall live with us and help tend the house. I shall be as happy as a fairytale princess. So please do not engage him in this dangerous business of yours.”

Thereupon, her father would shower her with blessings.

Unless he bellowed at her and shot Hugh between the eyes.

She sighed.