Chapter 62: Never gets tired

The tinted glass of the SUV blocked out the passing streetlights, wrapping the back seat in a quiet, shadowy intimacy.

Charles sat with his knees parted wide, his massive frame taking up half the cabin. He had already pulled off his bowtie, leaving his crisp white collar unbuttoned at his throat. His right hand rested heavy and warm on Harriet’s exposed thigh, his fingers digging slightly into the soft skin beneath her emerald silk dress. His dark gold eyes glowed faint in the dark, staring down at her face with a heavy, unblinking hunger.

Harriet didn't pull away. The sharp rush of standing her ground on that balcony was still humming through her veins, but seeing Charles look at her like she was the only object of value in the world stirred a deeper, hotter pulse between her legs.

She shifted in her seat, straddling his knee slightly. She leaned closer, her lips brushing against the sensitive shell of his ear. "You're glaring at me like you want to tear this dress off right here," she whispered, her voice low and smooth.

Charles’s breath hitched sharp in his throat. His thumb dragged slowly up her inner thigh, pushing the silk fabric out of his way until his calloused palm rested against the thin lace of her panties. "If the driver wasn't up front, Harriet, I would have already done it," he growled out, his voice thick and rough against her temple. "You drove me out of my mind tonight."

"Good," Harriet murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his jawline, feeling the hard muscle beneath his skin flex under her mouth. "Then don't make me wait once we get through that door."

The moment the lock clicked inside the master suite, Charles didn't even let Harriet step into the room.

He grabbed her waist with both hands, lifting her completely off her feet and slamming her back against the smooth, solid wood of the entrance door. The impact made the heavy doors rattle, but before Harriet could catch her breath, Charles’s mouth crashed down on hers.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was hard, deep, and utterly possessive. His tongue pushed forcefully past her lips, sweeping through her mouth, claiming her breath, her taste, and her silence all at once. Harriet let out a muffled gasp against his lips, her hands flying to his broad chest, her fingers clutching his dark dress shirt as she kissed him back with equal, fierce intensity.

Without breaking the kiss, Charles’s large hands moved down her spine to the long zipper of her emerald dress. With one swift, downward pull, the teeth parted. He hook his fingers into the off-the-shoulder sleeves, shoving the silk off her frame. The heavy dress pooled silently around her ankles, leaving her standing in her sheer black lace lingerie and high heels.

Charles pulled back just an inch, his heavy chest heaving, his glowing eyes raking down her bare body. The dark, lethal Alpha aura surrounding him melted into pure, unbridled lust.

"Look at you," he growled low in his chest, taking her face in one large hand, his thumb pressing firm against her bottom lip. "Mine. All mine."

He stripped off his suit jacket, tossing it blindly onto the floor, followed quickly by his unbuttoned shirt. His broad, muscular torso was bare, covered in faint, pale battle scars that flexed with every deep breath he took.

Charles reached down, hooking his hands beneath her thighs, and hoisted her up. Harriet instinctively wrapped her legs tight around his thick waist, her knees locking behind his back. Her hands dove into his thick dark hair, pulling his face down to her neck.

He bit her. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to leave a dull, hot ache right where her shoulder met her neck. Harriet threw her head back against the door, letting out a sharp, breathless moan that echoed off the high ceilings.

"Charles... please..." she whimpered, her fingers tugging at his hair.

He didn't answer with words. He carried her across the vast bedroom, his large strides smooth and steady despite her weight, and threw her back onto the center of the massive king-sized bed.

Harriet bounced slightly against the soft silk sheets, her hair spilling out around her shoulders like a dark halo. She watched him as he unbuckled his heavy leather belt, stripping off his trousers and underwear in one fluid motion until he stood completely bare beside the mattress.

He was towering, thick, and fully erect, his heavy length pulsing against his lower stomach. The raw, primal sight of him made Harriet’s throat go dry, her core throbbing with a wet, aching heat that left her trembling.

Charles crawled onto the bed over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the ambient light of the room. He positioned himself between her parted thighs, his large hands reaching up to pin both of her wrists flat against the mattress above her head. He locked his dark gold eyes onto hers, holding her completely captive under his weight.

"I want you to look at me the entire time," Charles growled, his raspy voice dropping into an absolute command. "I want you to see exactly who is taking you."

Harriet met his gaze, her dark eyes flashing with unyielding passion. "I'm looking, Charles. Don't hold back."

A dark smile touched his lips. He shifted his hips, guiding his thick, swollen head to her wet entrance. With one long, continuous push, Charles drove himself all the way inside her.

Harriet’s back arched off the bed, a loud, high-pitched gasp tearing from her throat as her tight, hot walls stretched to accommodate his massive length. She felt every inch of him filling her, invading her, anchoring her to the bed.

Charles closed his eyes for a split second, letting out a low, shuddering growl as her slick heat clamped down tightly around him. He rested his forehead against hers, his heavy chest pressing flush against her bare breasts.

"Fuck, Harriet..." he rasped, his breath hot against her cheek. "You're so tight..."

He didn't give her time to adjust. He pulled back until his head was barely resting inside her, and then slammed back in, setting a hard, relentless rhythm.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

The slick sound of their bodies colliding rang through the quiet suite. Harriet’s hips lifted off the mattress to meet every deep, punishing stroke. She squeezed his wrists where he held her hands pinned, her toes curling into the sheets as the intense, friction-filled heat built instantly in her core.

Charles opened his eyes, staring down into hers with feral intensity. He tightened his grip on her wrists, his thrusts growing faster, harder, and deeper, driving into her until the head of his bed slammed rhythmically against the wall behind them.

"You're my wife," Charles growled, his chest huffing hard as he pounded into her, his hips moving with ruthless precision. "Say it."

"I'm... ah! I'm your wife!" Harriet sobbed out, her voice breaking into sweet, breathless moans.

"Say my name," he commanded, his thumb stroking the back of her hand as he drove himself into her deepest point.

"Charles! Ah... Charles, please!" Harriet threw her head back, her body tightening into a rigid knot as a sudden, violent wave of pleasure exploded behind her eyes.

Her tight walls began to pulse uncontrollably around his thick shaft, her orgasm crashing over her in hot, relentless ripples. She screamed his name out loud, her chest rising and falling in sharp, desperate gasps as her inner muscles milked him mercilessly.

Watching her crest the edge completely broke Charles's control.

He let go of her wrists, his large hands diving under her hips, lifting her lower body higher off the bed to drive himself as deep as physically possible. With three final, brutal thrusts, Charles slammed into her core, letting out a deep, guttural roar that vibrated from his chest straight into her body.

He held himself buried inside her tight, pulsing heat as his own climax hit him, shooting his hot, heavy seed deep into her womb. His broad body trembled over hers, his muscles locked tight as he poured everything he had inside her.

For long minutes, neither of them moved.

The only sound in the room was the heavy, ragged sound of their breathing and the rapid beating of their hearts pressing against one another. Charles slowly lowered himself down, shifting his weight to the side so he wouldn't crush her, but keeping his massive length resting warm inside her slick core.

He pulled the heavy duvet over their sweat-slicked bodies, wrapping his thick arm around her waist and pulling her tight against his side. He buried his face in her damp hair, pressing his lips gently against her temple.

Harriet rested her hand over his, her body completely relaxed, heavy, and sated.

"I'm not going anywhere, Charles," Harriet whispered softly into the dark, closing her eyes as she sank into his warmth.

Charles tightened his arm around her, resting his chin on top of her head, his wolf completely quiet, utterly tamed by the woman in his arms. "I know," he growled softly. "Because I'll never let you go."