Praise (Salacious Players Club, #1)(75)

“You think you’re a bad father for wanting me but you’re not. You’re actually good to a fault, because you’re willing to forfeit your own happiness to spare your son’s hurt feelings, but you need to let him deal with the hard stuff on his own. He will get over it, but…I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Don’t say that. Of course you will.” My raw, aching heart claws at some sort of relief to offer her. “You’re only twenty-one, Charlotte.”

“I won’t,” she argues, those threatening tears finally spilling over. This is two nights in a row I’ve seen her cry, and I can’t stand it. My arms find her waist, pulling her close as if my touch alone could fix any of these problems.

“I’m forty, baby,” I murmur gently into her hair. “You have no future with me.”

“I don’t care how old you are. It doesn’t matter to me.” She’s sobbing in earnest against my chest now. That nagging anxiety in my gut from before has turned into a gaping, bleeding wound, but it’s better this way. Get the feelings out. No secrets. And we’ll move past them.

I pull her face up so she can see my eyes. “You understand it’s not because I don’t want you. You know that, right?”

“Then tell me you want me,” she cries.

“I want you. Of course, I want you.”

She reaches up, finding my lips for a desperate kiss, and I know I shouldn’t, but I kiss her back. I think we’ve established that I do not make wise decisions where this girl is involved, and I don’t want to.

She wraps her arms around my neck and I pull her up by the thighs, letting her wrap her legs around me. I’m done talking. All we’ve established is that we both can’t have what we want, but at least we can have this. In this house, with no one else around, there’s only us. Her and me and this unexplainable connection. You’re lucky enough to have something like this once in a lifetime, so if this brief, heated phase of our lives is all I’m going to get, then I’m going to squeeze every last drop out of it.

I carry her over to the couch and drop her onto the cushions.

“I need you,” she cries, clawing at my shirt. Sitting up, I pull it off quickly and work on my pants, tearing them off while she squirms out of hers. Once we’re naked, I drape my body over hers, ravaging her precious, pale skin with my mouth, nibbling and kissing every square inch. When I reach the apex of her thighs, she writhes against me, moaning while she pinches her nipples.

It’s not enough. Pulling my mouth away from her perfect pink folds, I grab her by the waist and flip us, so I’m lying down and she’s on top. Then, I grab her by the back of the neck, pulling her in for a bruising kiss, and whisper, “I want you on my face.”

Her eyes widen, and I see her about to protest, but I don’t give her a chance. Hoisting her up by the hips, I position her over my face and pull her down until I have her pussy in my mouth.

She cries out in delight as my tongue slides deep inside her. And I gaze up at her as she finds her pleasure, grinding herself against my lips.

Staring up at her, consuming her while feeling entirely consumed by her, I wonder briefly if this makes me a monster. Corrupting this perfect, young woman, making her mine and ruining her, so she can never feel this way about another man. But I don’t care. If I’m a monster, I’m a monster. I can live with that.

She grinds harder against me, giving up on the hovering and finally settling her weight down on my mouth. I suck eagerly at her clit, and she screams, her knuckles turning white as she grips the couch.

“Oh my God, Emerson. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Her spine curves inward as she comes, her cunt pulsing against my lips and her thighs clenching around my head. I lap up every beautiful drop like it’s the last time I’ll ever be able to devour her this way. I refuse to believe it is. Even if we aren’t meant for forever, I’m not done with her yet.

Once her muscles relax and she slumps over, I pick her up again. My cock is aching for her. Shifting into a sitting position on the couch, I guide her soaking core to my shaft, watching her face as she slides down over me.

“Fuck, Charlotte,” I groan, grasping her hair at the scalp and dragging her lips to mine. She hums with our kiss, tasting herself on my tongue. “Ride me.”

With her haunting brown eyes focused on mine, she holds me by the back of the neck and bounces herself on my cock in hard, deep thrusts. She’s fucking me the way I fuck her.

Watching her, I realize…I love her. If this isn’t what love feels like, then it must not exist.

It doesn’t mean I can give Charlotte everything she wants—everything I want. It doesn’t make my choice any easier, but I feel freer being able to admit that to myself. After twenty years of waiting, this is the one that has finally shattered the belief that I would never find this. Never find love. But I have…because of her.

And I want to tell her so badly right now, but I can’t. I refuse to make any more promises to this girl that I can’t fulfill. If I tell her I love her, it will only make her hope even more, and I’m crushing her already as it is.

Grabbing her hips tightly, I slam her down even harder, and she hangs her head back, filling the room with those delicious sounding moans of ecstasy.

“I want to come inside you. I want you to take it,” I groan.