—————
⚠️ WARNING⚠️

Round two, and please give yourself a break. Maybe a cold drink or anything to keep yourself cool and focus because Papa Price ain't done yet so if this isn't yo thang, please skip. Otherwise, enjoy the moment with these lovebirds!
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The morning light spilled lazily through the hotel windows, painting the suite in soft gold. The sun kissed her face as if nudging her to wake up under the sheets. Charlie stirred with a sleepy groan, blinking before recognizing that the bed was empty.

She sat up slowly, wincing a little. Her thighs ached—sore in a way that made her cheeks warm by remembering last night. Allowing herself to feather touch her legs between where he'd touched her and worshiped her with hunger.

Did that really happen?

A shy smile curled at her lips.

Then, a soft noise caught her attention where she heard the water running. She turned her head toward the bathroom door—that was left opened—just as the shower shut off with a final hiss. The sound of movement followed. Then he stepped out. Her breath hitched when she saw him dripping, fresh from the shower, a white towel slung low around his hips, water still running down his chest.

Her lips almost parted, allowing her to breathe.

His lean physique was sculpted with strength—broad chest and toned abs visible beneath his wet skin. Dark hair lightly covered his torso, forming a sharp line down to his stomach and below under the towel. Tattoos adorned his chest and right arm. And even in the early light, she could see the marks that mapped him.

Faint scars carved along his ribs, one just under his collarbone, and a long-healed wound on his left thigh contrast to his clear skin.

As she observed his athletic build, she noticed phrases she couldn't make out what it said and a skull with crossed rifles on his abdomen.

His arms were thick, muscular, and sprinkled with hair. Even his long, strong legs were covered with a healthy layer of dark hair, giving him a more masculine and wolfish appearance. He ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking out droplets, before reaching for the towel at his neck. And that's when he caught her wide-eyed stare.

"Enjoying the view, sweetheart?" he asked, his lip twisting into a mischievous grin.

"No!" she squeaked, diving under the covers like a gopher.

"Oh, you were," he chuckled as he stepped towards her. "That look said damn, not no."

"You're a walking sin," she mumbled into the blanket.

He chuckled deeper now, voice hoarse from sleep and steam.

"That so?" He paused at the edge of the bed, one eyebrow raised. "Come here."

Charlie peeked out from under the covers, still red. "Like this?"

"Like that," he said, still grinning. "I won't bite. Not this early, anyway."

Her heart fluttered. She slid out of bed, the sweatshirt she'd worn yesterday slipping down one shoulder. She padded over, bare feet on soft carpet, her body still shy from the night before. When she got to him, he took her hand and drew her in by the waist. She had to stand on her tiptoes to look into his eyes.

He looked down at her with a grin. "You always this tiny in the morning?"

She giggled. "I'm tiny, John."

"Perfect for me," he murmured, pulling her in tighter, one hand splayed against her lower back. "Easier to carry and toss around."

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his damp, warm torso. She buried her face into his bare chest, smiling as his scent—fresh soap—wrapped around her.

"I like this," she mumbled before looking up to him.

"You know what I like?" he said softly. "Listening to your sweet sounds you make, high pitch, almost a cry like you're desperate for a man to touch you, taste you, and hope that he'll change your life by one simple choice."

Charlie nestled her face against his chest again, and his arms tightened. Her arms then moved lower before hugging his waist, not minding about his wetness against her dry clothes.

"I'm never going to forget last night," she mumbled against him before kissing middle of his chest where his heart was.

John tilted his head down and smiled.

"Good."

He gently lifted her chin with his larger finger to direct her gaze back to him.

"You were beautiful," he added, voice rough with seduction. "So responsive. You let me in, Charlie—and you've no idea what that does to me."

She shyly smiled back to him.

"Stop," she said with a soft laugh. "You're going to make me melt."

"That's the point," he said smoothly before kissing her quick.

Her hand moved from his waist to the towel around his hips, unwrapping it until the towel hit the ground. She took a step back and her eyes trailed more of his exposure. His chiseled abs and strong thighs were just as she had imagined, if not more. He was every bit the picture of a warrior, his skin bearing the faintest of scars from past wars. She couldn't help but admire the man before her. The only thing causing her blood to race was the size of his shaft, which was the size of a missile and she almost wondered how he could fit her.

Oh... wow...

He stood silent and still, allowing her to observe him. He could sense her awe and their eyes met in a heated exchange. He stepped closer, towering over her petite frame.

"You're staring," he rumbled, his voice low and gravelly.

Blushing, Charlie tried to regain her composure. "It's just... you're..."

"I know," John said gently, deadpan, sending a shiver down her spine. "Never seen a man naked before?"

Before she answers him, he grabbed her hand and pulled her gently to him to where he pressed her body against his, earning him a wicked smile.

"What're you thinking, love?"

"I...uhm..." she stumbled before turning away.

"Eyes on me."

She gulped and looked at him.

"Are you going to be a good girl?"

She nodded in respond.

"Then, tell me what you want, and it's yours," he growled that nearly made her knees buckle.

"Kiss me," she begged.

His smirk deepened as he cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her jawline. "Is that all?"

"More," she breathed.

"Last night was a warm-up," he teased, leaning in to plant a trail of featherlight kisses to her forehead before her cheeks.

Charlie shivered, his words wrapped themselves around her like a blanket. She arched into him, unable to resist the pull of him.

"Take me," she whispered, knowing she was handing him the keys to her kingdom, but unable to care or think.

With a low growl, John kissed her.

His hands roamed over her body, molding her against him like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. His erection pressed against her stomach, making her moan into his mouth. 

Breaking the kiss only long enough to catch their breaths, John picked her up and she quickly wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her back to the bed. Never breaking eye contact from each other. His strength sent electric shivers down her spine, igniting a fire within her that she never knew existed.

When he laid her down on the bed, prowling over her like a predator stalking his prey. Charlie trembled in a delicious way, like she was expecting this moment to happen. His hands trailed up her thighs, pushing the sweatshirt upward, only halfway beneath her breasts while exposing her abdomen and her sex.

But the moment his eyes dropped lower, Charlie stiffened. She instinctively and tried to tug the hem of her sweatshirt back down, her face suddenly burning red. Which made his hand paused.

He looked up at her immediately, concern softening his features. "Hey. What is it?"

"I—I didn't shave." Charlie said nervously, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn't think... I mean, I didn't expect this to happen again. I wanted you but I didn't think—" Her voice trailed as she pressed her thighs together, trying to hide.

John blinked once and he chuckled. Not cruel. Warm. As if her words made him want to kiss her more.

"Charlie," he cooed while his hand slid gently up her side and he leaned down, brushing his lips against her cheek, her jaw, then near her ear before looking at her. "You think I give a damn about that?"

She looked at him, still flushed. "I thought most guys..."

"I'm not most guys." He cut her off with a gentle kiss to her temple. "I'm not here to fuck a porn star, love. I'm here for you. The way you laugh, the way you touch me, the way you say my name when you fall apart."

His hands caressed her thighs again. "I don't want a perfect version of you. I want you exactly like this."

Her throat tightened. The way he said that, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, made something in her heart ache and melt at once.

"But it's..." she tried again, looking away.

"Soft?" he guessed, amused. "Natural?" Then he kissed just below her navel. "It's you, sweetheart. And I love it."

Charlie covered her face with both hands, mortified—and a little swooned.

"Stop," she muttered from behind her fingers, her voice muffled.

He grinned, prying her hands away so he could see her flushed face.

"I mean it," he said softly. "There's not a bad thing on you I'd ever turn away from."

She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and wet.

"And right now," he murmured, voice thickening, "you're already more than enough."

That did it.

Charlie surged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a deep, aching kiss that said everything she couldn't put into words. He kissed her back just as fiercely before breaking away.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," he rasped, his voice soaked in hunger.

"John," she whimpered before her hands reached over and caressed his face.

"Do you want this?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes."

"Are you sure?" His voice dipped darker, stern but careful. "'Cause once I have you, sweetheart... I'm not lettin' you go."

She nodded again.

He hummed in agreement and bent down to kiss her again—slow and thorough, taking his time like he had all night. Then, he pulled back and reached behind her, adjusting her hips gently.

"Lift for me," he said, voice soft but commanding.

Charlie obeyed, and he slipped a firm pillow beneath her lower back.

"Need you comfortable," he murmured, "I'm not rushin' this."

That small gesture alone made her heart stutter. Even now—his dominance never wavered, but his focus remained entirely on her. He leaned back, stroking himself once, then settled between her thighs. He groaned and released a deep sigh before gazing down at her.

"Legs around me," he ordered. She did so, trembling. "Keep 'em there."

His hands ran down her sides. One anchored her hip, the other cradled her neck. He pulled back before inserting his erection into her slowly, causing her to gasp from the sudden pain. He stayed still, his body a coiled storm above her, waiting—watching her squeezing her eyes shut for the moment her brows furrowed and softened, her hands relaxed their grip on his shoulders.

"I'm here, love," he murmured against her cheek, stilling inside her—waiting.

Until her hips lifted slightly, giving him silent permission, John began to move. Not rough. Not fast. Measured. Deep. Controlled. With a half-moan and growl, he earned himself a return when she let out a soft moan escaped her lips as he filled her, stretching her in ways she never thought possible. He felt so big, so hard, and yet... so right.

"Ah!" she almost gasped as he reached the hilt. "Wait... wait," she panted, arching her hips against him involuntarily. "I... I need a minute."

John froze, his chest heaving with exertion. His eyes were dark pools of emotion as he searched hers for any sign of hurt or fear. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes," she managed through gritted teeth. "Just... painful." A blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks as she confessed the truth.

He laughed softly and said, "Oh, Charlie, it's normal. It won't last. Trust me."

She nodded weakly. "Okay...I trust you."

He kissed her temple before pulling out slightly pushing back in again, slower this time, allowing her body to adjust to him.

"Mmm' atta girl," he groaned and murmured against her ear, his hot breath making her body shiver more. "That pussy is mine now."

As they moved in, steady and in sync with each pleasure built in each motion. Her nails pressed into his shoulders, encouraging him as the sensations began taking hold. Pain replaced in pleasure, and the world around her faded, leaving only the sound of his labored breaths, their shared moans, and their pounding hearts. 

Charlie couldn't form words. Only a breathy moan escaped her lips.

Suddenly, his hands gripped the headboard, causing it to bang against the wall with each thrust. His rhythm increased, his hips slamming into hers with more force, driving her higher to where her legs almost gave out. She can't take it any longer. The pleasure building up inside her was becoming too much to handle.

"Jon...ah! Don—ah!" she moans, her fingers moved from his shoulders and gripped the sheets as she arched her hips upwards, meeting his every thrust.

He growled louder, feeling his own release burning through his veins. He thrusts even harder, driving himself deeper and deeper into her hot depths.

"Christ!" He grunts out in between thrusts. "I could do this all day!"

She bit her bottom lip hard to muffle her moans, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the hotel. But it's no use; the headboard slams against the wall in sync with their wild rhythm, and she doesn't care if the whole world hears them. All that matters is him and this moment.

"I... I... " she pants, her eyes rolling back in her head as she's on the verge of climaxing until he stopped and let go of the headboard.

He adjusted his angle, flipped her gently onto her side at one point, her leg thrown over his hip while he drove into her slower, deeper, until she was gasping again, clutching the sheets. Sweat glistening into her forehead as her body became loose and limp-like, only then, she rolled her eyes shut and moaned louder, allowing her mouth open in awe. Her core tensed around him, milking him for all he's got. In response, John grunts and stared down at her.

"Say it," he growled darkly. "Tell me who's fuckin' you."

"You!" she cried.

"Damn right it is!" he snapped as he pounded her more. "No one else will get you. You understand me?! I'll put a fuckin' bullet in anyone who tries!"

Her body trembled beneath him, on the edge, her moans and gasps rising in pitch with every thrust. His hips slammed into her with renewed passion, driving them both closer.

"Like this, huh?" He hissed, his breath hot in her ear as his words punctuated. "You. Will. Feel. Every. Fucking. Inch of me!"

"I—so good..." she panted, unable to finish her sentence. She never wanted it to end. Her heart beat faster, making it harder for her to breathe. Yet, her cheeks flushed deep when her ears picked up his deep moan.

"So fuckin' innocent," he grunted in pain, his accent thicker. "Now look at you—spread open and takin' all of me like a good girl."

In a breathless reply, she managed to whimper, "Y-yes, all yours..." The hedonistic words only fueling their shared fire.

"Beg me for it, luv," he growled. "Beg me to make you mine."

"Oh God... John... please," she gasped, her voice shaking with need. "I...I'm yours... only yours..."

With a growl of possession, he slammed deep inside her more as her orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave, her body shaking, spasming, back arching off the mattress as she cried out his name and stars exploded behind her eyelids. 

Her whole world narrowing down to the ecstasy between her thighs and the weight of him pressed against her. Sweat glistened on their bodies, and listening to him growling like an animal through his gritted teeth, his eyes locked with hers as if he could see straight into her soul. 

John continued thrusting her while her body became limp, moaning weakly while her eyes still closed. She was close for a release and he groaned deeply, the walls he felt had clenched around dick. Pulling out at the last minute, he released onto her stomach with a strangled curse.

"Fuckin' hell... shit..."

He fell next to her, both of them struggling to catch their breath, drenched in sweat and warmth. His face nestled near her hair, catching a whiff of the shampoo she'd used after her shower the day before. Cherry blossom. Still fresh. Their breaths became slow into a panting rhythm. Breathing heavily, speechless, Charlie turned her head toward him, looking dazed and flushed.

His shoulder throbbed faintly from gripping the headboard earlier, but he didn't shot it.

"Was it... okay?"

He chuckled hoarsely, turning his head to look at her.

"Better than okay," he said with a lazy grin. "You let me take all of you. That means everything."

She managed a breathy laugh. "Really?"

John smiled at her back, his hot breath tickling against her face close. He leaned in and kissed her again before breaking apart.

"Yeah," he said huskily and soft. "I know it's fast and all that bollocks but... Charlie..." He trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words until a sharp ring pierced the air from the bathroom.

"Fuck," he muttered and moved his gaze away, closing his eyes. "That'll be mine."

Opening his eyes, he gave her one last kiss on her lips before getting off the bed.

"While I take this," he said, pausing to flash her a grin, "call the front desk, yeah? Get whatever you want to eat. Full service."

She blinked and sat up slowly. "But—wait. I don't need to do that. I'm okay, really—"

"Charlie," he cut in, his tone half warning. "You're not skippin' breakfast just 'cause you don't want to spend my money."

She looked at him and lowered her gaze, shyly. "I mean... I don't want to take advantage."

"You're not." He reminded her. "You're my girl. My girl eats, yeah? Get the pancakes. Hell—get five stacks if you want 'em. I'll pay the bill twice if it means you're fed and happy."

Her heart fluttered. She nodded, still bashful, as he turned toward the bathroom.

"And get coffee and tea," he called over his shoulder. "You're gonna need it."

Charlie giggled into her hands, covering her face as she reclined again just before the bathroom door closed.

***

Inside the bathroom, John closed the door, locking it with a gentle click. He grabbed a clean towel to wipe away any remaining traces of her from himself before retrieving his vibrating phone from the bathroom counter where it rested alongside his clothes. A glance at the screen caused his brow to furrow.

Cami.

He sighed through his nose and hit accept. "Hey."

"Dad," came her voice, a little more clipped than usual. "You need to come to the base."

He raised a brow, his tone already wary. "What's wrong?"

Cam was silent—never a good sign. "Laswell landed early this morning. She's on her way to us now."

That had his jaw tightening.

"What for?" His voice dipped low.

"...She wants answers. Gabby filed her full report yesterday, and Kate read it front to back. She's demanding a debrief from the whole team."

"And by answers you mean the execution." John didn't ask. He already knew. "Rich."

"Yeah." she said slowly first. "Soap told me about it."

He ran a hand down his face. "Great."

"And Dad... Kate's not only mad at us. She's mad at you."

He snorted dryly. "Of course she is. It was my call."

"No, Dad. I mean, she's really pissed off."

"Cami, just say it."

The line went quiet again, but John could hear the weight in her silence.

"Kate is Charlie's mum."

The silence stretched more, and he didn't speak. Didn't move. His jaw ticked suddenly and eyes narrowed as if the film suddenly ripped wide open.

"Dad? Are you here?"

"Yes," he finally said, his voice became hard. "I'm here."

"You're mad, are you?"

John chuckled bitterly.

"No, but I'm sleeping with the daughter of the CIA handler, which I doubt will look impressive in the report," he remarked with sharp sarcasm.

"Dad—"

"Don't," he snapped, though not at her. He exhaled slowly and pinched the bridge of his nose. Eyes closed. "Let Kate storm through the bloody gates—I'll be there."

There was silence on the line again. Cam knew better than to push.

"And tell the rest to stay the hell out of my way. This is mine," he said calmly but cold as he looked at the reflection in front of him.

"Loud and clear," Cam said quietly.

He hung up, dropped the phone on the counter, and muttered under his breath, "Christ."

He dug through the small black bag he'd left beside the sink, fishing out the clean boxer briefs he picked up from the corner shop earlier that morning while Charlie slept. He'd stepped out before sunrise—just down the block and back, not wanting to be gone for long.

Now he was glad he had.

The old boxer briefs were a mess, no question about it. He threw the old brief in the trash and yanked the new ones on before grabbing the rest of his clothes. Rolling his sleeves to his elbows and stared into the mirror again, showing only his damp hair of the front curled on his forehead. Staring at himself harder, he scoffed before stepping out.

I'm about to enter in hell.

***

Charlie sat cross-legged on the edge of the plush hotel bed, the phone pressed between her shoulder and ear as she scrolled through the breakfast menu. She twirled a loose strand of hair between her fingers, biting her lip in thought.

"Um, yes. I'll do the cinnamon French toast, extra strawberries, and... the eggs Benedict, please." She paused, glancing down at the selection menu she found in one of the nightstands next to the bed. "Oh—and a small pot of Earl Grey. I changed my mind about coffee." She winced, laughing softly at herself. "Yeah, I know that's a lot. Sorry."

The concierge chuckled on the other end before confirming her order. Once she hung up, she let the phone fall into the pillows beside her and stretched with a satisfied sigh.

She was just about to hop off the bed when she turned—and froze.

John stepped out from the bathroom, fresh and clean, a towel no longer in sight. Instead, he wore the same clothes from last night: pants that clung just right to his muscled frame, a dark dress shirt that hugged his arms and chest, sleeves now rolled to his elbows. His damp hair was tousled.

But something was off.

His face, so open the night before, was now unreadable. Calm, but distant. Guarded.

Her soft smile faltered.

"John?"

He blinked like he'd just noticed her, then crossed the room in two strides. He leaned down, kissed her head, and gave her a brief smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Something's come up. I've got to head out."

She tilted her head, concerned. "Is everything okay?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his back pocket, pulled out his worn leather wallet, and slid one of his credit card free.

"Keep it," he said, handing the card to her. "Get whatever you want, alright?"

Charlie blinked at the card and back to him. "But—"

"Don't," he said gently but firmly. "You're here with me, love. That means I take care of you."

Charlie blinked, warmth rising in her cheeks. Her fingers slowly closed around the card as she was entranced by his teasing smirk before stepping back.

"How long will you be out?"

"Just couple of hours. Maybe late?"

She watched him, and she wanted to ask him more. But the way he said it told her he wasn't going to explain further.

"Get some dinner and dessert too. Choose something sweet, but not as sweet as you are."

That earned a shy, breathy laugh from her.

As he neared the door, his gaze moved on the credenza. His Glock lay where he left it last night. He checked the chamber and loaded it. The safety, engaged. Then he holstered it at the back of his waistband beneath his shirt, as if setting armor into place.

Leaving his jacket behind, he decided that he'll have Charlie keep it since the weather won't be that cold in the morning, but cooler than seventies; He took one last look back before he finally exited.

She sat in silence, still holding the card. Wondering what had shifted. And why the goodbye felt heavier than it should have. But as she looked down at the credit card again, the door reopened. John stepped back in—just for a second. His eyes locked on her like a tether being pulled tight.

"Almost forgot," he said, voice firm but low. "Lock the door behind me."

Charlie was startled at his sudden reappearance.

"And don't answer for anyone unless it's room service," he added, tone unmistakably commanding now. "Got it?"

A small, surprised smile curved on her lips.

"Okay," she teased, her voice soft and amused.

He narrowed his eyes in that way that somehow made him even more attractive. "I mean it, Charlie."

She nodded with a sheepish grin. "Alright, I'll lock it."

Satisfied, John stepped back out again, but not before flashing her a brief, crooked smirk. "Good girl."

The door closed again, and this time, the lock slid into place with a quiet click as she did exactly what he told her to do. She stood still, then smiled more as she headed to the bathroom, half-naked, to clean herself.