Chapter 540
Chapter 540
Charlotte's pussy was tight and hot, and with almost no lubrication, it gripped him in a way that was almost unbearable.
Charlotte was panting, tense, waiting for his cock to fully enter. Frederick felt like he was losing his mind from how tight she was, and he smacked her soft butt hard. "Relax a bit!"
Charlotte let out a small, aggrieved sound but obediently tried her best to loosen up.
The sensation of her pussy being filled so completely was overwhelming. She tilted her head back, seeking a kiss, but Frederick caught her chin, biting her lip with a bruising possessiveness. Frederick patted her face. "Be good, don't act so needy."
That comment made Charlotte's pussy tighten reflexively. Seizing the moment, Frederick pinned her by the waist and surged forward, driving his cock deep with a forceful, singular thrust.
The burning pain made her feel a bit wronged, but she still reached out to hold Frederick tightly, as if afraid he might leave.
Frederick bit her lip and growled softly, "It’s far too late for regrets now." He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and began a slow, punishing rhythm.
Her pussy was so tight, and Charlotte couldn't help but clench even more. Even at this measured pace, the sensation was too much to bear, and she cried out. Frederick found he could no longer restrain himself, though he tried to go slower to let her adjust. His hands gripped her waist hard, then moved to knead her butt. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tangling with hers. Charlotte responded in a daze, feeling like she was going crazy.
The deliberate, steady friction within her became a form of exquisite torture, amplified by his relentless caresses and the heat of his skin.
Finally breaking, she pleaded against his neck, "Fuck me, fuck me hard, Frederick, Frederick, faster!"
Frederick was powerless against her surrender. His pace shifted into a frantic, blurred motion. He bit her ear, his voice a hoarse demand, "Say it again, make it sound sweeter."
Charlotte could only squeeze her eyes shut as the force of his thrusts stole her breath, her moans coming out in broken gasps.
At that moment, she looked so obedient, doing whatever position he wanted. If he said something a bit too harsh, she'd seem overwhelmed. Her eyes shimmering as if on the verge of spilling over. Yet, she remained entirely submissive. Looking at her, Frederick felt the iron around his heart dissolve, replaced by a sudden, melting tenderness.
Charlotte was like freshly shucked clam meat—plump, tender, soft, and sweet. It made him want to devour her in one bite, yet he couldn't bear to just swallow. He wanted to drive into her until she was hollowed out and spent, fucking her until she was completely spent, only then feeling somewhat satisfied.
Frederick had never considered himself a man capable of such soft-heartedness, yet even as his chest felt tight with affection, his body remained hard and unyielding. His mind raced with a dozen different ways to flip her over and fuck her endlessly. He wanted to bite her, leave a few marks, just to release that overwhelming, tender feeling in his chest.
Charlotte tried her best to match his pace at first, even when flipped over for doggy style, arching her butt and moaning sweetly. But her endurance was no match for his. Eventually, she went limp beneath him, her voice a hoarse rasp, "No more, I can't, Frederick, please, have mercy."
Frederick ignored the plea. He traced the line of her reddened lips with his tongue, his voice dropping to a coaxing, hypnotic silk, "Be good, lift your hips. You have no idea how sexy your ass is. Next time, let's do it in the office, okay? Door unlocked. I'll bend you over the desk, make you look out at the view. If someone walks in, they'll see you naked right away."
Charlotte couldn't handle his gentle, coaxing tone, like he was soothing a child. Tears from being fucked hung in the corners of her eyes. Obediently, she pushed back against him, turning her head to seek the comfort of a kiss.
Frederick kissed her skillfully, pulling her tongue out to tangle with his. His thrusts below sped up, each one going deeper and deeper.
Charlotte took every bit of him, her limbs turning to water. Had he not been anchoring her, she would have collapsed into the mattress.
Deep inside, she felt incredible, completely claimed, satisfied by the endless pounding and mating. Pressed down by her back, bitten on the neck, kissed, and fucked by him—it felt like total possession, surrender, something primal and animalistic. She felt as though she were floating, suspended in a surreality from which she never wanted to descend.
Finally, Frederick pressed her flat, driving as deep as anatomy allowed as he hit his peak. Then he flipped her over, kissing her slowly and sliding back in with ease.
Lost in a half-dream, Charlotte lost track of the hours and the repetitions. Eventually, the world simply faded to black.
The following morning, Charlotte surfaced through a fog of exhaustion. Her whole body ached, especially down there. Shocked, she looked herself over—no clothes, bruises and hickeys all over her chest, clear finger marks on her inner thighs. The evidence of the night’s ferocity was undeniable.
She struggled to get up, brush her teeth, and wash her face. She had barely finished when Frederick appeared, drawing her into a lingering kiss.
Charlotte threw him a look of silent reproach. Frederick found her indignation amusing but spared her the teasing for now.
After the kiss, without any warning, he made her turn around and lean over the marble sink, lifting her hips.
Caught off guard by the sudden morning sex, Charlotte instinctively resisted. Still lightheaded and breathless, she felt him pat her hip, directing her to arch higher. Her face burned with a fresh wave of heat.
Sensing her hesitation and genuine fatigue, Frederick didn't push. Instead, he opened a tube of ointment, coated his fingers, and gently applied it inside her pussy. The cream was cool, and Charlotte flinched, her pussy tightening even more.
Frederick chuckled softly but said nothing.
After applying the ointment, Charlotte was far too embarrassed to speak. Frederick washed his hands, looking thoroughly satisfied with himself. He took her hand, and they made their way to the terrace for breakfast.
They sat across from each other at the table.
Frederick didn't say much, calmly spreading jam on his toast.
Charlotte cut a piece of bacon and chewed slowly, barely tasting it.
A cool breeze blew across the terrace, making Charlotte's loose hair flutter behind her. In the backlight, it looked soft and warm, like fur.
She turned her head to look at Frederick, who was on the phone.
Most of the time, Frederick didn't carry the air of someone from a noble background. He was often understated, handling heavy matters with ease, calmness and directness—a true Mr. Percy, unshaken by storms despite holding power.
Whether studying abroad or back in university, she rarely saw him hang out with spoiled rich kids or flaunt any aristocratic flair. Only in small details did he show it—always quiet, relaxed, and composed, with the kind of manners and table etiquette you'd expect from someone of his upbringing.
The more she studied him, the more she realized how hopelessly she had fallen.
While Frederick was on the phone, she walked over, boldly kissing him, suddenly wanting to see him lose control.
Charlotte had a cherry in her mouth. She passed it to him and whispered in his ear, "Mr. Percy, is it tasty?"
Her voice was sweet and sticky.
Frederick couldn't focus on Louis's words anymore. He ended the call without a word to Louis, swallowed the cherry as the tart juice exploded on his tongue, and pulled Charlotte down into a kiss so she could taste the result for herself.