Charlie laughed, divested himself of the remainder of his clothes and climbed back on the bed, hovering above her on his hands and knees. He watched her raise her head off the bed, her lips seeking his. He dipped his head, letting her claim his mouth, probe it with her tongue.
He pulled away and grinned at her moan of protest. He grinned even more at her ‘yes’ as he lowered his mouth to first one nipple then the other. He revelled in her low moan as he licked down to her belly button, ran wet circles around it and delved inside. And he exulted in her ‘Charlie!’ as he moved lower and found her sweet hot centre.
Carrie almost combusted at the touch of his tongue against her. He found the right spot instantly and she felt her hips rise off the bed involuntarily. His tongue flicked expertly and she could hear her cries of pleasure on an abstract level only. And when he pushed a finger inside and then pulled it out before plunging in again, mimicking the ultimate sexual act, she cried out louder because she was shattering into pieces and nothing could hold the shuddering of her body in check.
Charlie covered her mouth with his as his finger continued to stroke, stoke, sate. Swallowing her primal cries was dizzying, satisfying beyond his wildest dreams. He had made her come apart. He had made her pulse around his finger. He had made her crazy with lust. She devoured his mouth and he plundered hers in return, sucking up every last moan and whimper as her orgasm subsided.
‘Charlie.’ A depleted Carrie floated back down to earth.
He laughed and kissed her again hard, gathering her close, rolling over so she lay on top of him. His hands pressed against her buttocks, pressing her into the jut of his still rock-hard erection.
Carrie roused herself. She kissed his mouth, his eyes, his shoulder. ‘Let’s do that again.’
He chuckled. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Yes, indeed you are.’ She smiled, rubbing herself against the hard ridge of his sex.
‘Carrie,’ he warned.
She kissed him hard on the mouth. ‘Please, tell me you have condoms.’
‘Wallet. Back pocket.’ Joe had given them to him on Wednesday night.
Carrie grinned, leaping off the bed, locating his discarded clothes and finding a foil packet. She held it up triumphantly and ripped it open with her teeth. Within seconds she had Charlie covered and he had pulled her down on the bed, trapping her beneath him, biting her neck as he slowly entered her.
‘Oh, yes,’ he groaned as her tightness surrounded him.
‘Again,’ she whispered into his ear, the one stroke nowhere near enough.
Charlie obliged.
‘Oh, yes,’ Carrie breathed into his ear.
And obliged again.
‘More,’ she whispered.
And again.
‘Oh, God, don’t stop,’ she whimpered.
Stop? Was she mad? ‘Carrie,’ he cried as the pressure in his loins built to unbearable proportions.
She felt so good around him, underneath him. He wanted to pound inside her for ever, hold close like this for ever, be joined with her like this for ever. But the pressure was working against him, taking over, beyond his control, and he cried out her name as it erupted, pulsing like a molten lava flow through his veins, buzzing like an electric current through every cell in his body. And finally spilling out to cover his body in white-hot ecstasy.
Carrie cried out, too, as her body became embroiled in the heat and rush of her own orgasm. It was even more powerful than the last. Her body was buffeted by shock waves more violent than the last. Like the waves emanating from a nuclear explosion. An internal mushroom cloud rippling through all the cells of her body. And all she could do was hold onto Charlie, anchor herself to him as they wreaked their erotic havoc.
The tumult rose to a crescendo and then slowly, slowly Charlie came down from the heights. Carrie was still spasming around him and the odd shudder quaked through his muscles. They were silent, like feathers floating to the ground, only their heavy breathing breaking the quiet.
‘See,’ Charlie murmured a few moments later, kissing her hair, ‘I told you. Not bad for an out-of-practice couple.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHARLIE woke the next morning, sun streaming in through the window, a little finger lifting his eyelid.
‘You had a sleepover, Charlie?’
Oh, hell! Charlie opened both eyes. Dana’s smiling face greeted him. He felt Carrie, who was snuggled into his back, stiffen. ‘Morning, Sleeping Beauty.’
Oh, damn, damn, damn. ‘Darling,’ Carrie said, rising up on her elbow to look over Charlie’s shoulder, amazed at how much she wanted to bite it, even confronted with a truly horrible situation.
‘I’m hungry,’ Dana said. ‘Do you know how to make pancakes, Charlie?’