Pinch your clit for me
Charlotte's POV
It started with just a need, a stubborn ache that would not leave me alone. I lay back on the edge of the bed, knees bent and trousers pulled halfway down. My fingers moved through the slick warmth between my legs, slow at first, then with purpose. Every time I slid over that spot, sparks fired through me.
I imagined Luther. His hands would be bigger than mine, more confident, more patient. He would touch me like he owned my body, dragging pleasure from me the way only he could. My skin flushed at the thought, and I pushed harder, wanting more.
"God..." I whispered, teeth clenched.
One hand kept circling while the other slipped under my shirt to squeeze my breast. My back arched slightly, and a soft moan escaped my lips. I pictured him leaning by the door, watching me with that calm intensity in his eyes, maybe even pressing his palm against the bulge in his trousers.
The heat inside me grew wild. I moved faster, chasing that high. My hips rocked upward as far as my trousers would let me. My mind filled with thoughts of Luther, his mouth, his touch, his eyes drinking me in. Just as I was about to slide two fingers inside, the sound of the door opening hit me like a crash. I opened my eyes, and there he was.
Luther stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, staring straight at me. For a second, nothing moved. My breath caught, and I could not think. His eyes dropped slowly, from my face, to my chest, to the space between my thighs. I pulled my hands away and reached to fix my trousers, shame burning through me.
“Do not stop because of me.”
His voice was low, and rough in a way that stirred me even more. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him without once looking away. I looked down, too embarrassed to face him, but I could still feel his gaze on me like a warm press on my skin.
“Luther...” His name slipped out of me before I could stop it.
He walked closer, and my pulse jumped. My nipples pushed hard against the fabric of my top, desperate for attention. Between my legs, the ache deepened. He stood in front of me now. Close enough to touch. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.
“You are not making this easy,” he said softly.
He reached for my hand, the one I had just used to touch myself, and lifted it gently. I could not look away as he brought it to his nose and breathed in.
“Incredible,” he said with his eyes closed, like he was lost in the scent of me.
I tried to pull my hand back, but his grip held firm. I was not just exposed. I was seen, and yet... I did not feel shame anymore. Only hunger.
“Pull down what you are wearing.” His voice was deep and commanding. I obeyed, not even thinking to say no.
“Now, open your legs,” he said, licking his upper lip slowly. My breath caught at how boldly he looked at me, like he owned every part of me. Luther took my hand gently and brought it between my thighs, guiding it over my aching centre until I was cupping myself.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, my heart racing.
“Helping you finish what you started.” His hand pressed over mine, increasing the pressure, making my body hum with heat.
“Luther…” His name fell from my lips again, unsure, almost begging.
“Touch yourself for me, Charlotte. Do it, just for me.” He released my hand and moved behind me.
“I do not bite,” he murmured near my ear, his voice thick with want. That alone made my hand start moving again. I rubbed gently, circling the way I knew brought the most pleasure.
“Luther…” I moaned, my hips rolling along with my fingers.
“Just like that,” he said, sweeping my hair over my shoulder. “I can feel your breathing… are you close?”
“Yes,” I gasped, biting my lip.
“Pinch your clit for me.”
I obeyed, crying out as my whole body tensed and shivered from the sudden rush. I still could not believe he was really in my room, watching me touch myself, encouraging it. A man I barely knew. A man older than me. A man who was about to become my step-uncle. A knock on the door made my heart jump.
“Is everything okay?” my mother called.
Luther quickly shushed me. I was so thankful he had locked the door. Otherwise, she would have barged in.
“I know you’re in there, Charlotte. Please come down for the sake of our guests,” she said before her footsteps faded.
I exhaled, finally able to breathe.
“She doesn’t know you’re here?” I hissed at Luther, turning to face him.
“She does,” he replied calmly. “She actually sent me to get you. Since the door was locked, she probably assumed you ignored me.”
He headed for the door.
“Come down at ten. I’ll cover for you,” he said before leaving me in a worse state than I was in before. With a frustrated sigh, I pulled on some shorts and a plain sweatshirt, then dragged myself downstairs. The dinner was quiet. My mother kept stealing glances at me, and I deliberately chose to sit across from Luther to keep my head straight. His presence was already too much.
“Rupert and I have something to share,” my mother announced.
I focused on my plate, taking a bite of the rich spaghetti and meatballs. The flavours exploded on my tongue. Luther could cook, no doubt. And I found myself wondering what else those hands were good at.
“Are you listening?” she asked again. I nodded stiffly.
“We’ve decided to postpone the wedding,” she said, smiling as if expecting applause.
I dropped my fork and stared at her. A small laugh escaped me.
“I don’t care about your wedding anymore, Mother. Do whatever you like. It is your life, is it not?”
I used her own words, and the way her smile faded was satisfying. Luther stayed quiet, watching me.
“Charlotte, I thought you would be happy,” she said, clearly hurt.
“Oh, I am,” I replied coldly. “As long as you move in with him, into his house and leave this one to me, I have no problem. But I will not live with you both here. I will not let you turn my father’s house into something it was never meant to be.”
With that, I stood, taking my plate with me. The food was too good to waste, no matter the drama. I stepped outside to the backyard, needing air. But of course, I heard his voice behind me.
“I am coming to talk to her,” Luther said. And just like that, I knew I had made a mistake leaving the table.
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