Nothing could quite equal their night on Capers Island. But they’d tried many times to replicate it.
The best nights were the ones in the carriage house. Charlotte loved being romanced and surprised, but if she was honest she preferred the comfort of the little home they’d made that summer and her most treasured memories lived there.
She’d come home from work and Declan would already be in bed. Usually in just a pair of boxers with a takeout order of Thai food on the nightstand.
“Is it terrible that I never get sick of Thai?” she’d ask as she’d leap on top of him. His hands would wander down the curve of her back to her ass.
“Is it terrible that I never get sick of your body?” he’d say as he kissed down her neck. “Let’s get you out of these clothes. I’m hungry.”
Charlotte would laugh. “My clothes aren’t stopping you from eating, Mr. Hungry.”
“Oh yes they are,” he’d say. “I prefer my dessert first.”
Their routine was heaven. She’d let him slide off her jeans while she pulled off her shirt and bra, leaving her naked except for a very tiny pair of panties.
“Ah, pink,” he’d say. “I like pink days.”
She’d squirm, “Please. Take them off.”
He’d slide them off slowly and then place his face inches from her sex, reverently inhaling her scent, the feel of his breath on her clit being absolute torture.
“What do you want?” he’d ask. His voice lowered a couple of octaves when he was aroused. She loved that about him. He was all man.
“You,” she’d plead. “Your mouth on me. Make me come.”
Before she’d have to ask again, he was devouring her, coaxing an orgasm out of her with his tongue. She felt like she was being opened up by him, slowly, and with such intensity that her heart would race. Before she knew it, she was screaming out his name, letting him know he was giving her exactly what her body so desperately needed.
She’d ache to have him inside her by then, and beg him for it, but his unquenchable thirst for her demanded a series of her climaxes on his face before he’d seek his own pleasure.
Eventually, he’d have to fuck her. His cock would become so hard that it was painful. Her luscious curves drove him insane and he’d enter her with such force that she would cry out from his girth. But her wetness welcomed him, enveloped him, and he would fuck her hard at first, needing to pound her so she could feel his desire for her.
“Fuck,” she’d cry. “You’re so hard, baby. My * can barely take it.”
“Good,” he’d growl. “I want you to feel it tomorrow. So you’ll remember.”
She came so easily for him, so eagerly, and he got so much pleasure out of knowing that he was the man making her come. He’d throw her legs over his shoulders to penetrate her more deeply, watching her eyes roll back in her head from the ecstasy, making it so hard for him not to release into her right then.
“I love you,” she’d whisper, running her hand up his muscled abs. “Baby, I love you so much.”
It was his cue to take it slower. He’d put her legs down and lay over her, thrusting slowly in and out of her as she sighed, her hips raising to meet his rhythm.
“I love you too,” he’d say. “I always will.”
It was what she needed to hear to come again, and it was what he loved to say to her. He’d never meant something so much in his entire life.
“Please come inside me,” she’d say, her eyes sleepy and content. “It makes me feel like I belong to you.”
“You do, Charlotte,” he’d say, quickening his pace. “Completely.”
“I love you, Declan. God! I’m coming again!”
Her cry echoed throughout the house and it was met by his roar, the orgasm flooding from his shaft, his seed spilling into her wet and eager body, a pleasure like nothing he’d ever felt before. It felt like she was pulling his very soul out of him.
And it was like that every time.
Afterwards they’d lay together, tangled up in sheets and sweat. Neither could believe how happy they were; the post-love bliss was like being drunk or high off something cosmically good, a drug no company could ever invent.
“I never want this to end,” Charlotte would say.
“It never has to,” Declan would reply, kissing her head.
If he’d been told any different, he would never have believed it.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlotte had watched Declan leave, grateful to see his car pulling out of the driveway. She needed to get out and she hadn’t wanted to risk leaving the house if he was watching her.
She’d contemplated leaving Charleston. And she was still thinking about it. But for now, she’d wait and see. She’d paid for the rental house and it was non-refundable. Though she wasn’t hurting for money, she didn’t want to waste it. She could avoid Declan. And he probably wanted to avoid her too. If he knew what was good for him, anyway.