Race for the Throne | Formula One

42. Desire

Charles followed me into the apartment and closed the door somewhat loudly.

"I've had enough of this," he growled.

I faced him innocently. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Teasing me at dinner, at the club, in the car, you're playing a game and I'm done with it." He took a step closer.

I took a step back. "Oh really? That's a shame."

He took another step forward. "If you want something just say it."

"I thought you liked games," I taunted.

"Kathrine." His voice was deep.

My breath caught in my throat as my back came in contact with the wall. He was directly in front of me, I had to tip my head back to look him in the face. His eyes shone with hunger. My mouth curled into a smile before I pulled my bottom lip through my teeth. His jaw clenched. He had been showing incredible restraint all night at the amount of teasing I had done and I could tell he was struggling right now. He trailed his hand up my stomach between my breasts and traced over my collarbones before brushing his thumb over my pulse. His eyes left my lips and focused on mine. I looked at him, challenging him, wanting to know what he was going to do next. His hand which had been loosely on my neck, caressing my pulse, tightened. Not enough to hurt me but enough that I could feel the pressure. My lips parted slightly and a small gasp escaped my mouth. Charles groaned at this. There was an electricity in the air, like we were both on the edge, waiting.

I worked his shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning it slowly, without breaking eye contact. Sliding my hands up his stomach, up his chest, up his neck, cupping his face. Something flickered in his desire-filled eyes before our mouths crashed together. His tongue wet the seam of my lips before my mouth parted for him. This wasn't a dance, this was a fight. The kiss was bruising and forceful, like everything we had ever held back was being released. Lacing my fingers through his hair, I gave a gentle tug. He groaned against my mouth. His fingers dug into the flesh on my hip, his other hand not leaving my throat as he controlled the kiss. My other hand searched under his shirt, nails on his back. We pulled apart breathlessly a minute or two later, faces flush. His lips were swollen and his eyes bright. Sliding his hands down my body, he pulled my wet dress off, leaving me in just a black lace thong. My damp hair tumbled down my back as he gently pulled the clip out. I peeled his wet shirt off his arms and pulled his belt from his pants. Bending slightly, he picked me up under my thighs and I locked my ankles behind his back. Holding his jaw, I kissed him. He moaned as I nipped at his lip.

"I need you now." His voice thick with desperation.

He set me on the edge of the kitchen table.

Arms behind me, I leaned back a little. "Then have me."

One hand cupping my face, the other in my hair, he kissed me again. This one was slow and painfully controlled. His tongue stroked mine as he stood between my legs. I could feel his bulge growing in his pants against my core, we were separated only by his pants and a thin piece of lace. Moving the hand that had been on my cheek, he slid it down my body and between my legs. He slipped his fingers under my thong, smiling against my lips when he felt how wet I was. He captured the wetness on his fingers and spread it through my folds.

"You're going to be screaming my name before the night is over." His mouth brushed against my ear.

Shivering at his words, I replied, "is that a promise?"

I bit my lip as he thrust into me with two fingers. He scissored his fingers, stretching me. I whimpered as he curled his fingers against the sensitive spot.