I want more of you
Charlotte's POV
The first thing I felt was a hand brushing over my hip, followed by the familiar scent of Luther lingering close. The sheets beneath me were warm, and my skin still tingled from everything we had done. I had no idea what time it was, but I felt calm for the first time in days.
He had cleaned me up after we made love, and I had drifted off not long after. Still, the memory of his body inside mine had not faded. My thighs tightened at the thought. The ache between my legs was a reminder of how deep he had reached.
"Do you want something to eat?" Luther asked, his voice low as his mouth touched the side of my neck. His words, warm and slow, sent a pulse of heat straight through me. My hips shifted, pressing against the hardness behind me.
"Yes," I said, then paused, letting my hand slide over his. "But not food."
I could feel his smile against my skin as he kissed his way along my shoulder. One of his arms slid around me, his fingers moving upward until they cupped my breast. I arched into his touch. Every part of me responded to him.
"You feel incredible," he said. His breath tickled the shell of my ear as he played with my nipple, making it even harder than before. He rubbed the tip gently between his fingers, and I pressed back harder, needing more.
He moved behind me, lining himself up, and with one strong push, he entered me. I cried out, a mix of surprise and pleasure rushing through me all at once. He filled me completely, stretching me just enough to make my breath hitch.
His rhythm started slow, steady, building with each stroke. I met his movements, lifting my hips to match his pace. Every thrust sent ripples through my body, making me want him even more. My fingers gripped the sheets as he rocked into me.
"You drive me mad," he muttered against my skin, then gently bit my shoulder, making my walls clench around him. That earned a deep groan from him, one that made my legs tremble.
He pulled my leg up with one hand, changing the angle, and hit a spot that made my eyes roll back. My mouth fell open in a silent moan, the sensation so strong I could hardly breathe.
"Right there, baby," he growled, then moved his hand between my legs. A soft slap against my swollen clit made me cry out again, the sharp pleasure making my whole body jolt.
"You are so wet for me," he said, and I squeezed around him, my back arching as the pressure inside me built higher and higher.
“Oh, fuck, Charlotte… do that again.”
I moved against him just as he asked, and I felt him hit that sensitive spot deep inside me with even more pressure. My back arched and I let out a sharp gasp.
“Oh yes… ahh…”
My eyes were shut tightly as his fingers circled over the most sensitive part of me. Each movement was fast, desperate, sending sparks through my body while he moved inside me. His rough groans filled the room, and the bed creaked beneath us. It was almost too much, the way our bodies locked together like we had done this a hundred times.
I felt like I was floating. He filled me over and over, and I could hardly catch my breath. My leg lifted higher without thinking, giving him easier access as he drove deeper into me. The sheets were twisted beneath us, just like our bodies. Every inch of me burned with need as I climbed closer to the edge.
“Charlotte?” he called out suddenly, and it took a second for me to realise I had gone quiet, lost in the rising pleasure.
“Mmmh?” I murmured, barely able to speak. My stomach tightened, and a low moan escaped as my muscles clenched.
“Shit… you’re going to make me lose it,” he said, but it was already too late.
My body gave in. My thighs trembled, and my walls gripped him tight as the orgasm took over. I felt wetness gush out of me, soaking the bed. He did not stop, he moved faster, rubbing harder, pushing me into a second wave of release. I shook all over as I felt heat spread inside me, he groaned deeply as his body tensed, finishing with a strong thrust that made me cry out.
“Fuuuck…”
He dragged me back with him, both of us catching our breath. My body was still twitching, the room filled with the sound of our breathing. Then, my stomach growled. I laughed lightly, but stayed wrapped in his arms, not wanting the moment to end. He slowly pulled out, and I felt a warm liquid slide down my thighs. I was tense. We both looked at each other, and reality hit. There had been no condom. My heart thudded. A wave of panic crawled up my chest.
“Shit!” I turned my head to look at him. Luther ran his fingers through his hair, lines forming on his forehead. He looked suddenly distant, cold even.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered again as he got out of bed, walking over to grab his trousers.
“Luther?” I called, sitting up slowly. We needed to talk. We needed to be honest about what had just happened. But something about the way he was moving. The rush and distance made me feel nervous.
“Not now, Charlotte,” he said loudly.
That made me sit up straighter. “What do you mean, not now? Why are you acting like this?” My voice was small, but firm enough. He did not answer me. Instead, he kept buttoning his shirt like nothing had happened. No eye contact. No warmth.
“This is your fault,” he muttered.
I blinked, stunned. “Sorry? What did you just say?”
He looked at me like I had tricked him. “I haven’t had sex without protection in years, and somehow you led me into doing it. You should have reminded me.”
I let out a bitter laugh, tears already forming behind my eyes. “You’re blaming me? Are you actually being serious right now?”
“I want your full STI results by tomorrow,” he said flatly. “If you don’t send them, I will show up at your mother’s house and drag you to a clinic myself.”
My mouth hung open. He sounded like a stranger. I rubbed my face, praying I had misheard. This could not be the same man who had just made love to me minutes ago, who held me like I meant something.
“Unbelievable.” My arms dropped back onto the bed as I stared at him.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he said without even looking back. “Take the morning-after pill. I’m not about to become a father to a college girl’s baby.”
And just like that, he walked out, leaving the door half open and the room painfully silent. I stared at the empty space where he had stood. Then, I blinked… and felt something warm on my cheeks. The tears had come before I could even realise. I curled into myself, the ache between my legs now replaced with something far worse, the ache of betrayal. Of shame. Of heartbreak and all I could do was cry.
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