—————
⚠️ WARNING⚠️

Y'all get ready because it's about to get down and dirty and if this isn't your thang, feel free to skip! And also, be respectful to me (and readers) since not everyone is into smut like I do and others so, enjoy this chapter.

—————

The soft click of the suite door echoed like a trigger pulled.

Charlie turned around slowly, her breath catching the moment her eyes met his hardened gaze.

Standing still by the door, one hand resting on the lock while his other brushing inside his jacket. She caught the subtle movement. The metallic sound of a holster unsnapping. Without a word, he removed the sidearm from his belt holster and set it on the credenza, muzzle angled away.

His gaze moved to her, unreadable.

"What now?" she asked softly.

John didn't answer. He moved and his shoes muted against the plush carpet, and closed the distance between them with slow steps.

There was something predatory in the way he moved—controlled, composed, but brimming with tension beneath the surface. Then he dropped to his knees in front of her.

"John... what are you..." she trailed off, her voice trailing as she watched him reached her hands and raised one to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to her knuckles. Then the other.

When he finally looked up, his eyes burned with something deep, dark, and reverent.

"I'm a starving wolf, Charlie," he said, voice low and husky. "And you're not a clueless little lamb."

She blinked, lips parting at the weight of his words.

"But I'm reckless," he muttered, eyes flickering away like he was ashamed. "Because I can't stop wanting you. About what it'd feel like to sink my teeth into every inch of you until you forget anyone else existed."

Her cheeks flushed hot.

John inhaled sharply and shook his head, as if trying to push the thought away. "It's too much. This... need."

He clenched her hands tighter in his.

"No matter how much my body longs for it, I'm just a stupid old man who dreams about a young woman who did nothing but undo me," he paused, his voice faltering. "I want everything of you, Charlotte."

She stared at him, breathless.

"Get up," she whispered. "Please."

He didn't.

Instead, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her to him in a firm embrace. His forehead rested against her stomach, his breath shaky and hot through the fabric of her sweater.

"Let me stay here," he murmured, his voice muffled against her. "Just... let me hold you."

Her fingers trembled as they drifted into his hair, combing through the dark strands with a gentleness that melted in his chest.

"You're not stupid," she said softly. "And you're not broken. You're... human."

He let out a soft, bitter chuckle.

"You don't know how damaged I am."

"I don't care how broken you are, John. I want you."

Her words pierced him. John looked up and his hands were still resting on her hips.

"You don't know what you're doing, love," he said, his tone strained.

Charlie knelt with him, their eyes meeting. Her hands cupped his face, her thumbs brushing the beard on his cheeks.

"Maybe I do," she breathed. "Or maybe I don't, but...if we don't go all the way. I really like you. I like you for who you are because you make me feel safe."

Something shifted in his eyes—something feral. But when he spoke, his voice was velvet and control.

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then, I'll show you what it's like to be wanted," he said, almost a vow.

He stood up, prompting her to do the same. Once more towering over her, he kept his hands on her waist. His eyes searched hers for any sign of hesitation, but found none.

"Are you sure?" he asked huskily.

She nodded.

"Yes," she said breathily.

And he dipped his head and kissed her lips.

Lifting her almost, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as their lips moved together. Until John broke the kiss, and he gazed down at her. Her flushed face and eyes a mirrored his own yearning.

Without a word, his hands traveled to her hips and quickly lifted her before a soft gasp escaped from her. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Their lips found each other again.

John carried her toward the bed, and when he reached the bed, he lowered her carefully before breaking away. Her lips parted to say something, but the words caught in her throat when she saw his eyes.

His lips curled into a smile as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. Her eyes closed softly, and she took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. The scent of his cologne—spicy and musky, a mix of wool and woodsy notes—still in him along with his clothes.

"Breathe, love," he whispered huskily before his lips touched her cheek.

Trailing down to her neck, the roughness of his beard brushed against her, igniting a tingling sensation through her nerves. Charlie tilted her head, giving him more room as he placed another kiss just below her jawline. Opening her mouth, she released a soft sigh.

John paused, his lips hovering over lips.

"I won't cross the line until you're ready, alright?" He said in his deep, raspy tone that made her body shiver.

Her eyes opened slowly, meeting his steady gaze again.

"Sit up," he commanded.

Charlie slowly pushed herself up. Her brown eyes met before him as she straightened. His tall frame looming over her as he reached out and untied her braid.

The soft strands of her golden hair slipped free and fallen onto her shoulders. He took his time admiring her youthful beauty, making his heart ached more.

He moved away and knelt before her when his large hands moved to her feet.

John lifted her feet and took off her sneakers, one at a time, and set them beside him. Her small, socked feet were soft against his large hands as he peeled off her ankle socks, revealing her bare feet. Making him brush against her arch, they were petite, almost fragile compared to his strong, worn hands like sand or rust.

She reminded him of gentleness—qualities he thought no longer existed in his world. Yet here she was, a lamb in the presence of a wolf. John paused, his hands resting on her feet as he looked up at her.

"Take off your jeans," he said, his tone firm. "But leave on your underwear."

A comforting heat enveloped her, both strong and enjoyable. She hesitated for a moment. Charlie nodded to him as he began to unzip her skinny jeans. She slipped out of them, and he assisted in removing what separated them, leaving her clad only in an oversized sweater and pale pink lace underwear.

His eyes darkened.

John picked himself up and stepped back.

Admiring the view, he was breathing hard and his jaw clenched. His eyes moved to her now-bare legs. Her beige sweater was short enough to show off her hips and thighs, exposing most of her legs. The sight of her smooth skin, her bare feet barely touching against the plush carpet, sent his pulse racing.

"Look at you," he muttered, more to himself than her.

She looked away, cheeks aflame.

"No, no. Look at me," he ordered softly. "Don't you ever hide from me."

She met his gaze again, pulse fluttering.

"That's my girl," he praised with a low growl. "Now lie back."

She laid her back against the bed, and her hair had spread around behind her back. Her breathing was uneven, waiting.

John moved forward and stopped as he lowered his gaze and studied her. The sight of her bare legs, her sweater askew, and her wide eyes—was almost too much to bear. But he wasn't going to rush this. He knelt down, gently spreading her legs.

One of his hands rested on her knee, while the other caressed the top of her foot. His lips followed, pressing soft kisses up her leg—starting at her calf, then her knee, and moving to the inside of her thigh.

Charlie whimpered, making her body trembling.

The tenderness in his touch sent shivers racing up her spine, and with her hands gripping the soft duvet beneath her. Her mind was racing, torn between his actions' and her blind trust in him.

John paused, and his eyes flicked to meet hers.

Her face heated under his stare.

"You like that?" he rasped, placing another kiss on her knee before raising her sweatshirt to expose her small belly and kissing it.

Speechless, her lips parted, but no words followed. Eyes half open.

"You'll remember every second—because you're exactly what I want for my needs."

Her gasp was soft—shock and arousal twined together.

He grinned wickedly. "You feel that ache already, don't you?"

She nodded, arching slightly, thighs instinctively squeezing around him. His palms slid up to keep her open.

"That's it," he murmured. "Let me see that want in your eyes."

He rose, crawling over her, his body pressing hers into the mattress. She leaned almost against the bed with one of her hands to support herself. His clothed, solid body was obvious—the hardness she could feel through his pants against her stomach.

"You want to ride me, don't you?" He said darkly. "Nod your head as yes."

She nodded dumbly.

He flashed a wicked grin and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling back to look at her again. Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade. She looked away, but his hand gently grabbed her jaw, guiding her gaze back to him.

Before she could speak, his lips found hers again, and she kissed him back.

Eyes still half open, she shifted beneath him, her leg moving to rest over one of his leg, allowing herself to brush against his pants.

John froze and he broke away.

"Mmm.. don't," he growled, his voice tinged with a warning.

Her eyes widened in confusion. "What? Why?"

John sighed hard, his eyes filled with bliss and restrained. "Trust me. I don't want to tear your underwear off and fuck you like a bunny."

Her heart skipped a beat. She blinked once and twice until her pupils widened. Realization dawned on her as her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

"Oh!" she yelped. "No... no... we don't want that yet. I... am—"

Before she could finish, he shook his head and gave a low, hearty chuckle. "You're going to be the death of me."

Her embarrassment melted into a shy laugh. "It's not my fault you're you!"

"And it's not my fault you undo me." He chuckled before bending down to kiss her.

She giggled softly against his lips, "I can, um... feel you."

John groaned before pulling away.

"Damnit," he muttered under his breath.

Charlie couldn't help but laugh, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to stifle the sound.

"I didn't mean to say that," she said shyly.

John chuckled, nearly groaning. "It's natural, love. Your sweet self is doing its many job on me."

Charlie giggled before kissing him back.

Her lips moved from his to his bearded cheek, giving him soft butterfly kisses that made him catch his breath.

He tightened his grip on her waist as those gentle kisses sent goosebumps through him. Her warm breath caressed his ear as her lips brushed over his beard, leaving more kisses that made his body tense up.

They changed positions, with her knees now between his hips as he pulled her against his chest.

John let out a deep, guttural groan, his head falling back onto the bed.

He wrapped his arms around her body, but when Charlie shifted, pressing herself against his aroused member within his pants. He hissed and exhale hard.

"Shit," he said through his gritted teeth.

Charlie froze, her eyes widening. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," John answered, though his voice had a hint of strain.

"Then, what's wrong?"

John sighed hard again.

"Just... you..." he paused before groaning quick and continued, "... working me up. I need some relief."

"Uhm... what do you mean?"

"It means I want to fill you up, love. That's where I take you. To fuck you or make love to you. Whatever it may be."

Her cheeks flushed more, if that was possible, as she absorbed his blunt explanation.

"Oh," she breathed. Color bloomed across her skin.

He felt his aching groin throb and he took another deep breath before tucking her hair away from her face. "It's... normal. I promise, I won't do it unless you say it."

She bit her bottom lip sheepishly.

John scowled, causing her to pause, flustered.

"Keep biting your lip, and I'll want to bite you back."

Charlie quickly let go of her bottom lip. Her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

His intense gaze didn't help, making her feel both self-conscious and desired at the same time.

She couldn't find the words to respond. He chuckled softly, his gaze roaming over her flushed features before giving her a quick kiss and switched position. Her back was against the bed again as he hovered above her.

"Close your eyes," he said, his tone both commanding and soothing.

She obeyed.

Charlie felt the bed shift more when his large hands brushed down her legs before his lips followed. Soft, slow kisses traveled along her calves and ankles again. He kissed her feet before kissing all the way to her leg to her knee.

"Sit up," he ordered. "And do not open your eyes until I tell you too."

She sat up with her hands resting on the bed for balance. Then the mattress dipped as John adjusted himself, and then his strong hands found her waist, guiding her thighs to straddle him. Her underwear dragged across the hard line of length between his pants, the friction dizzying and he groaned in relief.

Her breath stuttered.

"Oh my God..."

He grabbed her hips, fingers tight.

"Just relax. Let the world blur away, okay?" he whispered huskily.

She nodded quickly, while breathing heavy and steadily.

"You don't have to think about what's next or what you should have said or done," he continued, his chest rumbled with a growl. "You're here now and that's enough. And I'm here too."

Charlie could feel her heart beating faster the more she takes in his English deep and gravelly accent.

"You are perfect."

She gulped, and she could feel her throat began to constrain. Squeezing her eyes tight. Like there was an invisible shame that she had carried with her.

"You work so hard and yet, you become hard on yourself each time your brain spins around, like you couldn't focus. You think you are in control, you need the noise. When, in fact, you need me," he stated softly before kissing her face—nose, closed eyes, temple, cheeks—his warm lips leaving tender marks.

She struggled to hold back her tears, sniffing softly as she nestled her face into his neck.

"You're my good girl, and I'd do whatever I could do for you."

At those words, something inside her cracked.

She pressed herself closer without thinking, a desperate wordless plea tucked into the way her body respond. His lips continued to trail along her jawline, each touch igniting a fire within her.

He cupped her face in his hands and tilted it upwards, capturing her lips in a heated kiss that stole every air from her lungs. His tongue pushed into her mouth, teasing and exploring every crevice, while his hands roamed down her back, skating over the curve of her hips and resting at the edge of her underwear.

"Now, relax," he said huskily between kisses, a low growl vibrated in his chest. "Now, ride me."

She hesitated, but his grip taught her. Rocking her body against him, he forced her into a rhythm—controlled, overwhelming.

"You feel that?" he said huskily against her mouth, grinding her down more harder. "That's me. Fuckin' hard because of you."

The heat of his body and the way his arms held her. She could feel his rough hands roaming underneath her sweater like he wanted to feel every inch of her soft skin against his sand-like skin.

Breaking away, breathing hot against her face. The feel of his large hands traveling below to clutch her ass, urging her to move more faster. Though, her eyes remain shut. Her breath matching his labored breathing each time he huff and pant. Like a wolf panting for water, making her more vocal.

"Mine," he growl darkly. "Every sounds you make—I own it."

Her body trembled in his arms, but she didn't stop grinding against him.

"That's it... come on... show me how much you want this."

A small, broken sob caught in her throat. Those words almost hurting more than his rough hands. She wasn't used to being handled like this. She didn't know what to do, except cling tighter.

Just as her pleasure peaked, John let out a deep groan from his chest, his hips thrusting against her a couple of times.

A guttural growl escaped him as he paused and adjusted his position.

He lifted her from his lap and laid her back onto the bed. Holding onto him like a lifeline, her body sank into the soft sheets after he removed himself. Earning her to respond with a soft moan.

The sound of his belt unbuckling filled the room, followed by the rustle of fabric as he removed his jeans and socks altogether.

She could only make out the sounds and the movement when she felt his large hands grab her waist again, guiding her back onto his lap. The warmth of his hard body pressed against hers, and her legs wrapped around him for balance.

"Just feel me," he commanded huskily. "That sweet little body—move again."

She nodded, sensing his hands slide down to her hips. Guiding her movements before encouraging her to grind against him with his boxers.

The friction sent jolts of pleasure through her, and her mouth parted with a quiet gasp. The feel of his manhood against her underwear felt more lighter than his pants, the more she grind against him. Her breaths came steady, and her hands moved to his shoulders, clutching for support.

"John..."

"Keep goin', baby girl," John praised with a quiet growl.

She couldn't believe how much she was enjoying this. Rocking her hips against his, Charlie moaned louder.

Her eyes still closed but the vision of his heated stare and his gravelly voice filling her mind. The sensations built within her like a raging fire, consuming every last bit of sanity she thought she had.

His hands traveled up her back, pulling her closer as their bodies slammed together through their barriers.

"Fuck, you're so good for me," he rasped in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Charlie whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words. Her swollen sex throb between her legs that demanded more.

Suddenly, he stilled her body and his hand slipped beneath her underwear. His fingers seeking out the source of her growing need. He circled her clit, coaxing a high-pitched moan from her.

Charlie arched her back as he pressed against her most sensitive spot with the right amount of pressure.

It was too much, yet not enough.

"Tell me you like this," he said huskily, locking onto his lust-filled gaze as he continued to tease her mercilessly.

With every soft cries, she tried to speak, "I... I do..."

Her admission unravel inside him as he groaned low in his throat, removing his finger from her sex. He licked them clean before moaning in satisfaction.

"You still taste good," he praised, his deep and raspy accent thicker than before as his self-control slowly slipping. "Now, be a good girl and move fast."

Panting, she started moving her hips again, increasing the rhythm of their grinding motion. Her eyes remained closed as her body responding with a growing eagerness.

The heat in his hot breath fanning over her sent a fresh wave of arousal through her. Pressing her soaked core against his boxer, the dampness between them, her sticky juices. She could feel the outline of his shaft beneath him. Hard like a rod insistent against her sex, it sent shivers down her spine.

"Jon..." she said before trailing, "... John..."

He growled and huffed before gritting his teeth and closing his eyes.

The way she moaned and letting go. It was feeding him to the point that his hands moved from her hips to grip the sheets beneath them.

Knuckles turning white as his hands became veiny-like to show more restraint, arching his hips upwards into her. He met her thrust against her each time. His breathing grew labored, matching hers stroke for stroke as they both hurtled towards the edge of ecstasy.

"Good girl," he praised in his rough tone. "Shit—you're gonna make me finish!"

"I... ha..." she panted, her mind hazy with the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. "I don't k-know how... much..."

He silenced her by kissing her in a deep, heated kiss before breaking away. His hot breath fanning over her face before opening his eyes.

"Let go," he purred against her lips, breathing heavy.

The bed creaked at every weight pressed down as the tension between them reached a breaking point. He removed her underwear, eliciting a loud gasp from her after he moved her back onto the bed. She leaned back against the headboard, adjusting her thighs over his hips.

With a low growl, he slid two fingers between her moist folds. He watched her eyes rolled shut, allowing her to release a soft moan.

"You're almost there," he groaned, tracing slow circles around her swollen clit.

Her flushed cheeks and shaky breaths revealed her lack of experience.

Pulling his fingers back and, instead of licking them, he touched her lower lip. Forcing her to part her lips and he slide his fingers into her mouth, where she began tasting herself while cleaning them off.

"That's my girl," he said, grinning.

His other hand gripped her hips and forced grind her until she writhed against him. She arched her back and his arousal strained against his boxers now, demanding for release.

She clung to his shirt, torn between the heat of his words and the safety of his touch.

Her actions grew more daring along with her ears picking up his growls and curses. Her body syncing with his punishing thrusts.

Then, he stilled his body and he howled, his seed dampened his boxers—a release that caused him to grip her tight.

She paused before letting out her soft cries. Even her release dripped slowly between her thighs and her underwear. Tears burned behind her closed eyelids. Not from fear, nor shame, but from something missing she hadn't realized of a name.

Wanted.

It was stupid. She wasn't supposed to fall apart over words like this.

Yet, every words from his lips felt like balm over old scars she hadn't known were bleeding.

Leaning into him, her forehead rested against his shoulder. Breathing hard.

John sighed hard, his arms wrapping around her as he sank back onto the bed, pulling her with him.

His broad chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, and Charlie could feel the heat radiating off him. Her own breaths came quickly from the closeness and the sticky juices they'd shared. She became aware of the dampness between them, her soaked core pressed his boxer.

Her cheeks flushed crimson as she buried her face against him, flustered yet unable to stop panting.

"Open your eyes," John murmured, his rich voice almost in slur.

He watched her lifted her gaze and opened her eyes, meeting his flushed gaze. His forehead was covered with hints of sweat. They stared at each other before she laughed breathily.

"What?" he asked, smiling.

A shy smile tugging at her lips as her voice almost high-pitched. "I can't believe it."

"Don't believe what?"

"I don't know... uhm... it's not sex, right?"

John smirked in return. "It is, love."

Charlie blushed before blinking at him. "What?"

"That was dry sex," he said gently, brushing her hair back. "Still sex. Just not the kind you expected, yeah?"

Her cheeks burned even brighter.

"Oh," she breathed out, feeling dumb for not knowing the term. John kissed her forehead.

"I never thought I'd see the day that I'd be the one to explain while in this position," he joked, earning a small giggle from her.

"So... did I do good?"

"No, little one," he answered before kissing her lips quick after her change of reaction. "You're better than good."

Charlie rested her head back on his shoulder. He responded by encircling her, nearly embracing her.

"You want a boy who'll take you on dates and send you flowers? Or a man who'll make you kneel and remind you who you belong to?"

Moving her face to see his gaze, she thought about his question. The intensity in his eyes was both thrilling and terrifying. She knew the answer when she smiled.

"Both," she breathed, justifying her answer instead of choosing.

Then, his lips curved into a slow, satisfied smirk.

"Well, Ms. Daniels," he drawled, his accent more pronounced than ever. "You've found the right man."

He dipped his head and kissed her—slow, deep, and claiming—until she trembled against his mouth. When she broke away, his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper, eyes locked on her like prey.

"One day, you'll beg me to ruin you, and I won't stop until you wear my name between your legs."

Her heart raced, yet she remained still, simply gazing at him. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Then, quickly, he captured her lips one last time. Slower this time. Softer.

"Sleep."

Charlie nodded and rested her head against his chest, finding peace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he sighed, almost with relief.

Eyes fluttering shut, she drifted off—not because she was tired, but because she felt safe in his arms.