Southern Charmer (Charleston Heat 1)

Olivia moans. Her hips rise to meet my gentle strokes. I pinch her nipple, and her legs start to shake.

“So quick?” I say, equal parts smug and astonished.

She nods, her eyes catching on my dick. They darken. “For you? Yes.”

I give her tit a firm squeeze. “All right, baby. Come for me, then.”

I keep working her clit with my thumb. I bring my other hand down, and sink two fingers into her pussy. I thrust them once, twice. Three times. Her walls flutter around me.

And then Olivia explodes. She fists around me, arching her back and crying out as the orgasm cracks through her. Pulse after hot pulse milks my fingers. She reaches for me, saying my name, and I can only watch in wonder, my dick throbbing, as she rolls against me, riding out the wave.

I’m gripped by the need to be inside her. To make this moment—this orgasm—truly my own. I wanna hold her. Be as close to her as humanly possible while I still have her with me.

I could climb over her right now and take my pleasure all night long. And she’d still be the one who’d end up taking.

She’d still be the one I want to give everything to.

The fingers of my right hand still inside her, I reach across her body with my left and grab a condom.Chapter Twenty-FiveOlivia“Yes,” I manage as I watch Eli tear open the foil packet with his teeth. “Eli, please.”

I’m boneless. Body still pulsing with the aftershocks of the orgasm to end all orgasms. I can only lie here helplessly, back sinking into the soft mattress, and watch and salivate and burn as this huge, gorgeous man rolls on a condom.

His dick is just as gorgeous as the rest of him. Smooth, pink skin. Pointing straight up. Proud. Perfectly made, if a little intimidating.

I notice Eli’s hands shake a little. Takes him a try or two to get the condom all the way on.

He’s nervous? For me?

The thought turns my insides to mush. I’m gripped by the fervent desire to be with this man for real.

For keeps. Could I really make a life with him in it—a life in Charleston, where I’m a writer—work? I’m not sure I’m capable of that.

But please, oh, please, in this moment, just let me imagine that I am.

Let me dwell in the sweetness of possibility.

He looks up, meeting my eyes. His darken. More brown than green tonight. They trail heatedly over my body. My nipples prick to renewed life. I feel so sexy when he looks at me like this. Like he’s been starving for me all his life.

With a grunt, he leans down and kisses my mouth. I rise into his caress, spreading my legs wider. I love it when he puts his weight on me. Love the hot, slightly breathless feeling of being surrounded by him.

His skin is a little slick. Sweat.

He runs a hand down my side. Catches my leg and hikes it over his hip. Melting his body into mine, I whimper when I feel his latex-covered tip prodding my entrance. The pressure is already enormous. My pussy throbs with a new awareness of him.

A new sense of anticipation.

“Jesus, baby,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I can still feel you comin’.”

I nod, too overwhelmed to open my eyes. I just loop my arms around his neck and hold him close.

He buries his face in my neck. Heaven.

“Let me return the favor,” I say, canting my hips so he slips inside me a little.

He hisses, the muscles in his neck and upper back flexing against my fingertips.

“Olivia,” he half whispers, half warns. “If you do that—I can’t control—I’m tryin’ to go slow here, sweetheart. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“You’re so small,” he says.

“And you’re so perfect. Please.” I cant my hips again. He’s halfway inside me now, and it hurts. In the best way. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much. I want you to give me everything you’ve got, Eli.”

He sucks in a breath. He’s not convinced.

So I brush my lips against his. Open my eyes. He must sense me doing it, because he opens his, too.

Please, I plead with my gaze. Please please please.

Eli nudges my nose with his. Tender and sweet.

His eyes never leaving mine, he slowly draws back his hips.

And then he surges inside me, one long, swift, devastating stroke that buries him to the hilt inside me. I cry out. Pain and pleasure rip through me in equal parts.

There is nothing tender about this.

But it is still very, very sweet.

Eli pauses. Just for a second. Waiting for me to say it hurts. That it’s too intense, he’s too big. I’m too scared.

All of those things are true.

I still want more. I want to drink my fill of him. Want to know the kind of exquisite pleasure I’ve read about in my romance novels.