… he loved me in a way I never thought I would feel again
Charlotte's POV
"You barely slept, baby, so you need to rest. I will wake you up when we arrive," Luther said, sitting beside me on the luxurious bed inside the jet’s master bedroom. His eyes stayed fixed on his laptop screen.
The room around us was stunning, golden accents glowed softly from the walls, and the ceiling above was a clean white with hidden lighting. Beside the bed was a cushioned leather seat and a small table with a bowl of fresh fruits. The jet was more like a flying home, with separate areas for lounging, a mini-bar, a guestroom, and even an office.
"You did not sleep either. Let us rest together," I said, yawning as I spoke. It was a little after 6 a.m., and the pilot said we would land around 9. That gave us at least two hours to recover from our sleepless night.
"I have work to do, Charlotte. Just sleep." He said it flatly, without looking at me.
A dull ache formed in my chest. I turned away and faced the other side of the bed, saying nothing more. Last night we shared something beautiful, hours of passion and closeness and now it felt like I was invisible.
I swallowed hard. A lump sat in my throat, and the corners of my mouth trembled slightly. I curled beneath the silky duvet, trying to make myself smaller, as if that would ease the pain. I had imagined us bonding on this flight. I thought it would be full of warmth, laughter, maybe even more tenderness. But he was distant, cold even. And now I wished I had flown alone.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. I heard him shift, then felt the bed move as he lowered himself behind me. Moments later, he wrapped his arm around my body and held me close.
"I am sorry," he whispered, pulling me in from behind. His hand rested beneath my breast, his touch light but present.
"It is alright. You have work," I replied quietly, even though every word I spoke felt hollow. I had no right to feel this way. He was helping me, travelling with me to face my past. That was already a big sacrifice. Wanting more from him, especially now, felt selfish.
"No, it is not about work." He sighed, his breath warm on the back of my ear. "Please, let me explain."
"You do not need to. I understand," I said quickly. I pushed back the urge to cry again. My heart, my eyes, even my throat could not take another wave of tears.
"No, listen. I really need you to rest. I am not trying to ignore you. I do not even have work today. Mateo is handling everything at the office. The steam bath yesterday? It was meant to help you relax, so you could sleep well. But I kept you up all night instead."
He tightened his arm around me, pulling me closer under the duvet. I could feel the warmth of his body through his soft t-shirt and shorts.
"I want to sleep like this, in your arms. And you did not sleep either," I whispered. The pain from earlier was fading, being replaced by something deeper, an ache I could not hide, not even from myself.
We had made love several times last night, yet my body still craved more. Just the feel of him behind me, skin against skin, had my pulse racing again.
"Alright, close your eyes," he said gently.
I obeyed, but all I could picture was the way his body moved with mine last night, slow, strong, perfect. Heat gathered low in my belly, my clit started to throb, and my nipples tightened beneath the thin fabric of my dress.
Without thinking, I placed my hand over his and guided it over my breast. I drew in a deep breath as his palm cupped me, and a quiet moan slipped past my lips.
"Charlotte..." he said, his voice thick with tension.
"I need you again," I whispered. "I want to feel close to you."
His fingers brushed over the peak of my breast through the fabric. My hips pressed back against him, and I could already feel the effect it had on him.
"We should sleep," he said, but his hand did not move away.
"Just this once more, please," I murmured, turning slightly to look into his eyes.
There was a storm in them, desire, guilt, longing and I knew in that moment, just like me, he could not resist either.
"What are you doing?" Luther' low voice sent a wave of heat through my spine straight down to the pulsing ache between my thighs.
"Giving our bodies what they want," I said softly, pressing my hips back against him and feeling the full weight of his arousal.
"As much as I want to make you feel good again, I am sure you are sore," he said, his voice thick with restraint.
He was right. I was sore, but it was the kind of ache I would gladly endure for the pleasure I knew was coming.
"A good kind of sore. Do not make me beg like last night," I replied, nudging him again, knowing exactly what effect it had.
I saw the moment I won when he cupped my breast, kneading it slowly. My breath caught, and I bit down on my lower lip to muffle the sound.
"But…" he started.
"No buts, Luther. I can feel you pressing against me." I shifted my hips, creating delicious friction against his growing length.
"Charlotte, you are so damn stubborn," he groaned, giving in as he lifted the hem of my dress.
"And wet, too," he added after guiding my hand between my thighs. He moved my panties aside, and the moment his fingers grazed my slick heat, I gasped.
"Only you can make me feel this way without even touching me properly," I whispered. Every time his fingers slid over me, from bottom to top, I felt like I was melting.
"Is that so?" he murmured, his breath warm against my neck as he lowered his shorts. I could barely breathe when I felt the head of his thick shaft brushing against my entrance.
"Please," I whispered, clenching my eyes shut, my body trembling with need.
"If I notice even the slightest pain, I will stop," he warned softly, then began to press inside slowly, inch by inch, stretching me open again.
"Relax for me, baby. Let me in," he coaxed, trailing kisses along the back of my neck while rubbing my waist to calm me.
My mouth fell open. "Oh God!" I gasped as he sank fully inside, filling me completely. My walls pulsed around him, already adjusting to his size. The dull sting faded with each second, replaced by a sweet fullness that made me moan without thinking.
He stayed still for a moment, letting me adjust. Then he pulled out almost entirely, leaving just the tip inside before sliding back in again. He repeated it slowly, over and over, until he found the perfect rhythm.
At first, it was overwhelming, but soon my body caught up with the pleasure.
"You feel like a furnace inside," he grunted, picking up speed. His words made me shiver, especially when his next thrust hit that sensitive spot deep inside me.
"Yes…oh God, yes," I moaned, throwing the duvet off as my skin grew hot from our bodies moving together.
"Like this?" he asked, shortening his strokes but driving deeper. Each time he pushed in, I edged closer to release.
"More," I breathed, clinging to the sheets beneath me as my legs began to tremble.
"On your stomach," he instructed. He pulled out, and I rolled onto my belly. He wasted no time entering me from behind, his thrusts now sharp and focused.
"Aah!" I cried out, gripping the sheets as he found my spot again and again.
"It is crazy how you made me cum four times last night, and I still cannot hold back now," he laughed through a groan. I laughed too, breathless and just as desperate.
"That sweet?" I teased, panting.
"You are my newest addiction," he answered, slamming deeper into me.
Our moans blended, filling the room along with the steady rhythm of skin meeting skin. Every nerve in my body came alive. His new angle hit me just right, and my hips arched instinctively into every thrust.
Then something shifted in my chest. As I lost control of the waves of pleasure, a thought anchored me: this man was not just good in bed. He was with me, truly with me, through everything.
He supported me, comforted me, and now… he loved me in a way I never thought I would feel again.
"Babe, I need you to let go. Come for me," he breathed into my ear, his pace strong and steady.
That was all it took.
My whole body tightened, my toes curled, and I trembled as the orgasm washed over me. A hot wave of release pulsed through me. I let go completely, crying out as I came around him. Seconds later, I felt him stiffen before warm spurts of his release followed.
He stayed inside for a moment, catching his breath. Then gently, he pulled out and cleaned me with care. No words were needed as he slipped under the covers and pulled me close.
Wrapped in his warmth, with the scent of him all around me and his arms holding me like I was the most precious thing in the world, my eyes finally grew heavy. The last thought I had before falling asleep was about the man we were about to meet. Mr. Sanders. And the truth we needed from him to bring my mother down.
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