I trace her bottom lip. “If you take me deep one more time, I’m going to come down that pretty, sweet throat of yours.” It’s as much a warning as a promise.

As fun as it is to make a mess on her chest, I’d prefer not to do that tonight, mostly because I don’t want to take the time to clean it up before I get into those pretty panties of hers with more than my fingers.

I’m right there, balls tightening, the ache merging with the promise of release. She sucks hard, her hot mouth surrounding every inch of me, and I let go, pulsing as she swallows. I fold forward, groaning her name, struggling not to thrust since I’m already as deep as I can go.

When I’m finished coming, I ease out gently and bend to brush my lips over hers. “I didn’t deserve your mouth tonight.”

“I didn’t do it for you. I want you in me for a long as possible tonight, and this guarantees that.”

I chuckle and kiss her softly. “Well, I’m going to need a few minutes before I can do that, and I have a really great idea about how to pass the time.” Charlene smiles against my lips. I’d like to stay where I am for a while, but I’ve tortured her enough for one day, and there’s little I love more than watching her unravel for me.

I drop a kiss between her breasts and one below her navel. The custom bra and matching panties are perfect on her gorgeous body. “I want to see the back of these,” I murmur.

Charlene slides up the bed and flips onto her stomach, craning to look her over shoulder. Her lip is caught between her teeth. I run my hands down her sides to her hips.

“I don’t know why it took me this long to come up with these, but they’re my new favorites.”

“I think Violet has a pair for every day of the week with Alex’s name stamped on her butt.”

As soon as I get home, I’m going to order them in every color combination, style, and pattern I can. Fuck lace and satin. Cotton boy shorts are where it’s at.

I regret how I handled her this morning, because now I want to take my time, but I’m aware I can’t. I open the clasp on her bra and kiss the space between her shoulder blades, then the dip in her spine before I pull the panties over her hips and bite the swell of her ass, smiling at her gasp. I drag my thumb along the divide, and she jolts and moans. Slipping my fingers between her thighs, I skim the length of her slit, passing her entrance to find the steel piercing her clit. Her hips lift as I circle once.

“On your back baby, I want to spend some time kissing you.”

Charlene is quick to comply, flipping over and tossing her bra on the floor.

I stretch out between her legs, hooking my arms under her thighs and lick up the length of her pussy. Charlene writhes against my mouth when I take her clit ring between my teeth and tug. The first orgasm comes hard and fast, the second only minutes behind the first. And I keep going, pushing her higher so I can watch her spiral down, down, down.

I lose track after orgasm number three. And eventually I can’t and don’t want to wait any longer. It’s not just about getting lost in her, which I admittedly want. But more than that, I need her. I need the closeness. I need to know she’s mine and that no matter what happens at the end of the season, that’s not going to change.

I prowl up her body, position myself at her entrance and ease in.

I drop my forehead against her neck and groan. “Only you make me feel this alive.”

Charlene’s knees press against my ribs, and links her hands behind my neck. “I felt empty all day,” she whispers.

Her words make the hairs on my arms stand on end. Something about her tone tells me this isn’t just about withholding orgasms. It’s more.

I kiss my way up her neck and across her jaw. “And how do you feel now?” I push up on my arms so I can see her face.

“Like you’re under my skin, but I can’t get you deep enough.”

I roll my hips, and she moans quietly. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I want to give her everything she needs. I want to be everything she needs.

I slip my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, cradling her head in my palm as I drop my lips to hers. I can still taste her on my tongue, so when she licks at my mouth and moans, I know it’s because she can taste herself.

I kiss her the same way I move inside her. I’m in no rush for this to end, and somewhere inside my head, I fear what will happen when it does. Things between us are shifting again. And as close as I feel to her in this moment, I worry that outside of it, there will be distance I don’t know how to bridge.

Charlene grabs my biceps, fingernails digging in while she moves with me. I pull back in time to see her eyes flutter open and meet mine as she starts to pulse around me.

Charlene spends a great deal of energy trying to make sex into some kind of event, as if she feels l need to be entertained to enjoy her. But nothing compares to this. There are no distractions, nothing to get in the way as I watch her light up under me. She lifts her hand and drags gentle fingers down my cheek.

I close my eyes for a second, absorbing the sensation before I catch and hold Charlene’s gaze again. The orgasm is painfully intense as it burns through me. White spots blank out of my vision, taking away Charlene’s perfect face for the briefest moment. It feels as if I’m drowning in pleasure so extreme the possibility of never having it again is agony.

I drop my head, nuzzling into her neck, breathing in the salty sweet scent of her skin. My body feels weighed down with satiety. I want this every day. I want to wake up to this, go to sleep to this, come home to this, and I’m not sure why it took this long for me to realize it. My limbs are heavy and uncoordinated as I ease out. I slip an arm under her and roll to the side, taking her with me.

Charlene tucks her head under my chin, a shiver ripping through her. At first I think it’s the aftermath of such a powerful, drawn-out orgasm, or maybe she’s cold. I try to shift away so I can tuck us under the covers, but she mumbles no against my neck and tightens her hold.

“Let me get a warm cloth so I can make you more comfortable,” I murmur against her temple, once again trying to extricate myself.

She clings tighter and shakes her head, shuddering again.

I pull back enough so I can see her face, but she twists her head away, tucking her chin against her shoulder, eyes screwed up tight.

“Are you okay?” I stroke her cheek, hoping to calm her, but her lips twist as if she’s fighting whatever emotions are swimming to the surface, ones she’s clearly trying to hide.

“I’m fine,” she whispers brokenly, still not looking at me.

“You seem the opposite of fine.”

“I need a minute. Please.”

I don’t know what to make of this reaction, or the way she’s clinging to me. This isn’t typical Charlene behavior, and I don’t know how to handle it.

A tiny whimper hums across my throat.

“Did I hurt you?” I don’t think I did. I’m always extraordinarily careful with Charlene.

She shakes her head into my shoulder, which should be a relief, but the fact that she’s breaking down emotionally after sex seems bad. The sound of her pain tears at my heart, her ache my own.

I want to be better at this, at caring for someone. A wave of emotion slams into me, the kind I’ve guarded against my entire life. I shift her body so I can sit up and keep her in my lap. She wraps her legs around my waist, arms locked around my shoulders with her face buried against the crook of my neck.

She feels like she could break apart in my arms, and I’m forced to finally accept the truth I’ve been hiding from: I’m in love with Charlene, and have been for a very long time.

Jesus. I’m so emotionally stunted by my fucked-up family, I couldn’t even recognize love until it punched me in the face.

I rub circles on Charlene’s back with one hand and smooth my free palm over the back of her head. “Breathe, baby,” I murmur in her ear and press my lips to her temple. “Let me make it better.”

She sucks in a high-pitched breath, and I worry I’m making it worse. Eventually she seems to calm, and then her lips find that sensitive space behind my ear. She trails kisses up my neck and along the edge of my jaw.

For a moment I’m confused, until I realize her mouth is meant to be a distraction. It almost works.

I cup her face in my hands and lift, forcing her to look at me. Charlene’s eyes are red rimmed, her cheeks flushed, and her expression is pure panic.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. I want you again.” She tries to come back to my mouth, but I hold her still.

“What is this about?” I smooth away her tears.

“That was intense. Today was intense.”

“And that’s the only reason for the tears?” I press. “I need you to talk to me, Charlene.”

“I waited all day for you.” She sighs and lifts her gaze, vulnerability leaking through. “I know the game was stressful for you, and it’s the same for me. You wanted me on edge, and I was. I was worried and anxious. It was a lot.”