Chapter 162

• Charlotte's touch ignited a fire inside him, a slow-burning blaze that consumed every doubt, every shadow of their past, leaving only the raw, aching truth of their love. She held his gaze, her hazel eyes locking with his piercing blue ones, unblinking, a silent promise woven into the depths of that stare—I am yours forever, no contracts, no games, just us.
• Her fingers, steady yet trembling with tender hunger, reached his belt, her movements deliberate and worshipful, as if unveiling a sacred vow. The buckle yielded with a soft click, and Howard's pulse thundered in his ears, his body a live wire under her command. He was painfully hard now, straining against the confines of his pants, every nerve alight with the agony of wanting her—the woman who had remade him, heart and soul.
• Never breaking eye contact, she eased the zipper down, the sound a hushed symphony in the quiet room, and freed his length. It sprang forth, huge and veiny, throbbing with need, so thick her delicate hand could barely encircle it, her fingers splaying in a futile, reverent grasp that sent a jolt through him like lightning kissing earth. She bit her lower lip first, that plush crimson curve denting under her teeth—a flicker of coy desire that made his heart clench—then leaned in, her breath a warm caress against him.