17. Again

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My fingers weave in and out of Charles's, his hand soft in mine as I eye the flowers on my bed side table. They're beautiful. All different tones of pink on deep green stems, perfectly matching the delicate pink vase by the side of my bed. It's where I had also lay my 'guest of Charles Leclerc' ferrari badge after Sunday night, and a picture of myself and Amber from Monaco. Slowly, my bedside table is turning into a shrine of Charles

I don't entirely have a problem with that though.

"We should do something." I muse quietly, a little scared to break the perfect silence we're in. Charles presses a slow soft kiss to my shoulder, resisting the urge to hum in satisfaction of the feel of him against me. It really is perfect. His lips are soft and send a shiver down my spine when they press against me. After Charles revealed he'd only been able to swing twenty four hours in London before he had to head back to Monaco I'd called in sick at work. I'm not sure they believed my migraine alibi, but if they doubted it nothing was said. I refused to waste a minute with Charles.

"What do you want to do Miss London?" I snort at the nickname. He's been determined to find one since the whole 'French Prince' situation last night - so far all of his suggestions have been clunky or poorly translated (at best). Miss London appears to be the latest effort.

"Miss London?" I question the nickname through a small giggle and Charles just shrugs. As if he hadn't been thinking over the name for the last five minutes. Then I shrug in answer to his previous question, allowing my head to fall onto his bare chest - I had forgot how perfectly I fit against him. He's warm and soft and the perfect height so that my neck doesn't ache int eh slightest, if that's not a sign I'm not sure what is. My mind flits through possibilities, eyeing the bright sunlight streaming in through my window.

It's the perfect July day and we're tucked up in bed with each other - I'm not necessarily mad about it though. Lying beside a naked Charles could never be something to complain about.

We could just go to a park? Sit on a blanket in the sun as we snack on nibbles and exchange brief kisses every so often. The weather is perfect for it, the company the best it could possibly be. My skin hums with the thought of the summer sun sitting on it. The whole thing seems like something a couple would do, something so casual and normal. The peace I feel with the idea should make me panicked - the very idea should have me panicked.

Somehow it doesn't.

I feel...good.

My leg shifts against Charles as I think it all through and he groans lowly with the action, the sound so rough it's almost a growl at my skin brushing against his bare body under the sheets. I'm fairly sure he even shifts to enjoy friction against him for a second longer. I can't help but widen my eyes a little.

He's hard...again.

My eyebrows rise in slow surprise at his readiness. "Already?" I ask, my mouth curling up a little in pride. I did that. I watch carefully as Charles flushes pink with my accusation, heat filling his face.

"It's your fault." Charles defends, his expression flat before raising his eyebrow at me accusingly. "You're just lying on me looking like...that." If I didn't know him better I'd think he was annoyed with me. Only I know he's not, he's annoyed at the situation I've created below the sheets. The face he pulls, eyes narrowed lips a little pursed, makes me giggle pathetically. Then his fingers roll against my bare nipple and I'm quickly gasping into him, my mouth finding his.

Charles uses my surprise as a chance to roll on top of me, his eyes dancing over my bare skin which is just on fire from his gaze. I love the feeling of it, I'm addicted. The strong trained muscles of his arms stretch and strain under his weight as he looks down at me with his soft eyes kissing me slowly, weight above me. I'm completely trapped under him but I wouldn't be anywhere else in the world.

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