The Devil In the South Of France: An Enemies To Lovers Romance
Page 13
Peter groaned, tossing his head back. His feet lined along her stomach, dropping to the ground. They felt electric as they touched her. It didn’t matter how much time had passed—if they’d fucked five seconds ago, or five years ago—they were always hungry for one another’s bodies.
Charlotte pressed her hand into Peter’s chest, tossing him against the bed. She spread her legs on either side of him. His fingers found the soft wetness between her legs, circling her clit. They’d spent the past year feasting on one another’s bodies; they’d lusted and drooled and kissed and bit, with Charlotte even finding, for a brief time, that Peter really fucking loved being choked. She remembered when she’d discovered it: as she’d wrapped her hand around his throat, latched it tighter, until he’d cum—squirting his cum so hard that it shot up in her, then dribbled down the sides of her legs.
It wasn’t clear when the baby had been conceived. They fucked like bunnies, it didn’t matter.
Charlotte brought her pussy over him, settling over his cock. She began to hump him, so that her tits bounced up and down. She pressed her hands against his thighs, gripping his knees, so that they were one unit—his feet pressed against the floor. His eyes were closed. “Fuck me faster, baby. Yeah,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “Harder.”
She continued to fuck him, so that her curls flashed up and down, her little, tight body strutted up and down. Then, he flipped her across the bed and fucked her harder, so that she could feel his cock deep inside her, all the way to the back of her body. She brought her fingers across his chest, inhaled his musk. When they kissed, they were hungry, moaning for one another.
“I’m going to cum, baby. You’re so fucking wet. You’re making me…”
When he came, Peter shot his body forward, casting his chest against hers. She screeched with pleasure, feeling herself dive into orgasm. Her legs wrapped tight around his torso, her ankles latching together. Jesus. This. This was pleasure. This was heaven.
They collapsed in one another’s arms, staring up at the ceiling and inhaling one another’s scents. They were one man, one woman. And, Charlotte knew, she had to inform him of their secret.
“Are you excited about seeing Manu?” she asked, biting at her bottom lip.
“Of course,” Peter said, shifting. “It’s only been a few weeks. But the old bastard and I miss each other.”
Charlotte tucked her chin against his chest, shivering with excitement. “You know, I don’t know what he’s going to say when we tell him.”
“Tell him what?” Peter asked, tilting his head.
“That he’s going to be an uncle,” Charlotte said.
Peter’s eyes burned back at her. His lips parted, then rejoined once more. Their hearts seemed to beat as one, as both reflected on what to say, to do next. There was fear. There was passion. There was excitement.
But also, they’d always had that. And they were prepared to face this new wave of reality, as they’d faced everything else before.