Finally, he relents, helping me and his cock stands proud. Slipping my hand around it, I stroke him, wanting him to know I can give pleasure too. Just like he gave me in that coat closet.
“Grace,” he warns, staring at me with a look like this isn’t a good idea, but I don’t stop.
When I run my tongue from the base of his cock to the very tip, he makes a sound of pent-up longing. I take him in my mouth, inch by inch, but it isn’t enough.
He growls and pushes my head down a little, always needing to be the one in control.
Using my tongue against the sensitive underside of his cock, I do everything I can to give him the same kind of pleasure he gave me. Alternating between doing that and taking him deep, it's only minutes before he pulls me away.
At my protest, he merely shakes his head. “There’s time for that later. I promise.”
Then he pulls me to my feet, switching our positions again. He makes quick work of my dress, pulling it up over my head. I’m not wearing a bra with this dress, so my bare breasts are exposed. I bite my lip as he palms them; heat spreads through my body.
“So beautiful,” he marvels. He bends down and takes one nipple in his mouth. He sucks on it, making my back arch. When he releases it in favor of the other, I call out his name.
“Please, Charlie,” I moan.
“Please what?” he asks in a low voice with a hint of desperation. Like he needs me to tell him. Like his world depends on it.
“Please…” Be with me. Be with me for more than just this. My heart is desperate for me to say the words, but nothing comes out.
The brush of his fingers against my core is like a live wire. He bends to kiss my breast again, his fingers coaxing, opening me to his view.
I moan as he kisses his way down to my pussy. He kneels, discovering me with a series of slow licks that send me sky high. He shifts himself, pressing one hand on the top of my sex, while the other explores.
Charlie finds my clit with his tongue, running lazy circles around it, driving me wild. One finger dips inside my core.
“Yes,” I whisper, urging him on.
That same finger that dipped into my center withdraws, then brushes backward.
Is he—?
He chooses that moment to focus on my clit, while sliding his finger around and around the tight hole. I am crazed with the need to get off, and when he focuses in on my clit again, and presses his finger against my rear entrance…
His finger slips in with little resistance. I feel my face heat as I realize that I don’t hate it… in fact, it feels… good. Hot and full, but it feels so good. Oh my God. It takes everything not to move against his motions.
He slows his pace, giving me a second to get used to the feeling of his finger in my ass, grinding in rhythm. I'm ashamed to find how much I like it. I moan every time he moves his finger.
It’s so taboo, so wrong…
He sucks on my clit, although I can’t forget about where his finger is. He picks up the pace, his tongue moves faster, massaging and taking me higher. He slowly brings a second finger to join the first.
I explode, riding high on a wave of sensation that won’t stop. I call his name as I find a sudden release, a blessing or a curse, I don’t know.
Before I even finish, Charlie stands up and turns me around. My naked breasts touch the bar and I spread my legs for him. He runs his hand down my bare back, and squeezes one of my ass cheeks.
“You really want me?” he asks me.
“Yes,” I groan. “Are you going to…” I want to ask him if he’s going to try to put himself…
“Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” Before I can answer, the words are knocked out of me.
He enters me in one brutal stroke, making us both cry out. He fills me completely, possesses me utterly, steals my very breath.
He does it again, and again. Over and over, he strokes into me with every bit of his strength. My body knows what's coming. I’m shaking like a leaf.
Every nerve ending cries out for fulfillment. I move with him, thrust with him until I can’t anymore. Until I see the edge of the precipice, looking up from down below.
He doesn’t stop fucking me, taking me even higher. Prolonging the pleasure.
He stiffens and grabs my hips hard, bruising my flesh as he finds his own release.
When he’s finished, we stand, both catching our breath and coming back down to earth for a long moment, struggling to breathe. I turn my head back, and he nuzzles my neck, but he won’t look me in the eyes. He finally withdraws from my body and I wince, already aching between my legs.
“Wait here,” he says, pulling up his pants.
I turn around, picking my dress up from the floor. He returns as I'm putting the dress on. He has a clean, wet rag.
“Here,” he says, reaching low to wipe the stickiness from between my legs. I balance myself by gripping onto his shoulder as I feel the warm rag wipe me clean.
“Thanks,” I say awkwardly. The tension is still there. It’s suffocating. As soon as he's done, I finish getting dressed, pulling my panties on and watching Charlie. But he never looks at me the whole time.
I’m trying to be what he wants but I can feel him already slipping away.
He tosses the rag aside and catches me by the waist. Finally, his green eyes stare back at me and my heart flips. His mouth kicks up, half a smile on his face. He kisses me, slow and tender.
When I break away, his smile falters and he lets me go. “I still have to close. It’s going to be awhile. An hour, at least.” He scratches the back of his head, looking away.
“Oh,” I respond but so many questions linger at the back of my throat. “I think I’ll go. I have to work in the morning.”
“Right,” he says with a frown. “Right, of course. I’ll just walk you to the door then.”
“No need,” I assure him. “I think I can make it a whole hundred feet alone.”
He looks like he’s going to argue with me, but then he swallows it back. “Sure. I’ll see you later, then?” he asks.
“Yeah. Sure,” I answer him as I slip on my heels, only then remembering I never told him anything I wanted to say. It hurts way too much to not be a breakup.
“Okay. Text me when you get home, let me know you got there safe.”
I give him a half smile that I don’t mean, feeling the split between us. What the hell is wrong with me?
I open my mouth to tell him, but I can’t. He has to work, and I need to get home. If I say anything right now, I know I’m going to cry. I’m going to be that clingy girl he didn’t want. Instead, I let myself out and cry alone in the car on my way home alone.
Charlie
Little Evie is upright in Joseph’s lap, staring back at me with wide eyes as I shove peas into my mouth.
I don’t taste a damn thing. It’s been five days. Five fucking days since that night at the bar.
I should have ended it that night at the bar or at least told her I knew what she told Diane. I should have told her no, but I just wanted to feel her one last time. Five days and she hasn’t said a word to me. Hasn’t come by. She never wanted a relationship with me.
I’m so fucking pathetic, wrapped up in a woman who doesn’t want me. Who never wanted me. I remember how she tried to get out of it. I should have let her.