[Warning: This chapter contains Explicit Mature Content]
When the girl writhing beneath his tongue spread herself wider, inviting him to slide deeper, closer than ever to the spot that made her gasp and shake, Charles knew his work was doing exactly what it was meant to do.
With her fully opened to him on the kitchen counter, her body laid bare under his relentless attention, his tongue and fingers taking turns drawing out her pleasure until the sensations overwhelmed her completely.
Meaningless sounds spilled from her lips, and the cool white marble beneath her grew slick from the evidence of how thoroughly he had undone her.
And yet, Charles was far from satisfied.
He wanted to hear her break further, wanted her body to remember nothing but him, the shape of his tongue, his fingers, his touch. Not anyone else's.
Certainly not that ash-blond opportunist who had taken her out for tea and dared to leave his marks on her without Charles knowing.
