We’ve had sex twice since the beach and each time she’s tied me up and rode me to the high heavens.
I’m not complaining. She can fuck me, use me until she’s spent, and ride my cock until she’s seeing stars. As long as she gets hers, I’m happy.
But damn it, I want to touch her.
She leans her head down on my shoulder and her breath drifts over the side of my neck. “I don’t know anything. I’m sorry, Whistler. He didn’t share anything with me. He wasn’t the sharing type.”
“Anything. It doesn’t have to be anything specific. Did he meet his dad anywhere? Go anywhere for long periods of time?” I push, needing the tiniest clue.
She leans away and stares at the large accumulation of bubbles to the left of us. “He liked to go to the Hoover Dam a lot. He said it is his dad’s favorite place, but that’s it, I swear. I’m not keeping anything from you, Whistler. I’d tell you if I knew anything about their operation or whatever they do. I promise. You have to believe me.” She twists her hands into my shirt and her blue eyes widen as she waits for me to respond.
“Hey, I know that.” I stroke her arm up and down while not breaking eye contact. “I know you’d tell me the truth because that’s the kind of person you are. You don’t hide anything and I won’t hide anything from you either. Okay? I promise.” I kiss her lips and groan when I feel how they give and melt against mine. “Thank you, Cupcake.”
I reach for my phone on the counter and thank the stars I remembered to take it out of my pocket before climbing in the tub, which reminds me…
There’s water all over the floor from it sloshing over the edge.
I text Mercy the information and his reply is immediate.
“Sending Bolt, Halfpint, Hashtag, Moose, and Tutu to survey. We will reconvene tonight.”
I toss my phone across the floor through the wet puddles accumulating, not giving a damn about the plan, the target, the kill, or the Scapegoat hanging in the BDSM room. I don’t give a fuck.
My only care, the only person I give a damn about right now, is Charlie. I stand up, keeping my hands on her ass as I lift her out of the water. Her legs are wrapped around my waist and she has her arms tightened around my neck as I step out of the tub, a waterfall cascading into the tub from her body and my clothes.
I step out, not giving a damn about the mess on the floor either. I’ll worry about it later.
Managing to hold her with one arm, I use the trim to hold myself up as I kick off my soggy boots.
As I walk, every step squishes against the ground and I notice the bedroom door open.
Oh, fuck no. No one is allowed to see my girl naked.
I kick it shut, then lock it for good measure.
The air in the room changes, but there isn’t a desperate edge or a suffocating amount of lust. The energy is fragile, delicate, and unsure, but the desire grows.
I can feel it.
Dripping in water, I lie her down on the bed, the comforter becoming wet, the water spreading as the material soaks it up.
I cup the back of her head and my world stops and starts again as our lips meet. She’s shaking, but she isn’t cold.
She’s terrified.
“Tie me up again, Cupcake. I only want you comfortable,” I say, delving my tongue between her lips, the soft tangle of her tongue getting lost in mine.
“No,” she shakes her head. “No, I want you. I have since the first time. I was just scared, but I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she admits, her trembling palm resting over my heart. “I don’t want to be afraid of us.”
I feel like she’s holding back something else, but I can’t tell what it is.
“I’ll take care of you, Cupcake.” I drag my hands down her body, languid and lazy so she can say stop. “I’ll always take care of you.” When I reach her hips, I grab onto them and hoist her into the middle of the bed.
She gasps and I freeze, waiting for her to say the word stop. I will stop too. Every time.
But lust is swirling her baby blues into whirlpools. She lifts up and slides my waterlogged cut off, then grips the hem of my shirt and yanks it over my head. She tosses it to the floor and all I hear is a wet plop.
My breaths are harsh as I flatten her against the mattress and look my fill of what’s mine. All fucking mine. Those tits, those freckles, the dip in her waist, and her tight cunt. All of her belongs to me.
I pluck her nipples, rolling them between my fingers, and watch her writhe and moan. Her arms smack against the bed and she fists the comforter, stretching her neck back with her eyes shut as she enjoys the pleasure.
Only ever pleasure.
That’s all she will feel from me.
“Whistler,” she moans. Her ribs press under her flesh as her back bows.
I bend down and pause before taking her nipple into my mouth. I look up at her and see her blissed-out expression, her hands still clutching the blanket. I latch my mouth onto her cherry red bead, moaning as I flick my tongue across the tip.
Every inch of her sweetness is my favorite dessert.
“Wesley,” she whimpers my name, her body jerking, and I bite down a little harder, testing the boundaries I can push without going too far.
I let go of her strawberry flavored sprinkle, blowing cold air onto the hard candy, watching it tighten further.
The air conditioning kicks on and I peel my eyes from her body to the vent from the unexpected sound. Straightening, I roam my hands down her body and slide my palms up my thighs until I get to my zipper.
She props herself up and her shaking hands unsnap the button while I lower the zipper. I’m slow, cautious, and don’t want to scare her away, but she doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Charlie isn’t tearing at my clothes, she’s reserved, but she’s trying to break free from her fear and I’m not going to rush her.
Charlie rolls the waistband of my jeans and tugs them down my legs until I can kick them free. Her mouth opens and she leans forward, flattening her tongue against my shaft, then swirling it around the head. Charlie licks the tip and leans back, swallowing the bit of precome she gathered on her tongue.
She moves her hair out of the way and lies down onto her back, spreading her legs and offering herself to me.
I have to take a minute because there’s a weight on my chest making it difficult to catch my breath and I look at her in amazement. I know she’s never offered herself to anyone like she has to me in this moment.
Men have taken, taken, and taken, and she’s giving herself to me. Me. Out of everyone in the world, she picked me.
I’m the luckiest guy alive.
“I swear, I’m always going to take care of you, even more than I take care of myself. You’ll always be my priority.” I roam my hands up her smooth legs and her eyes water the closer I get. “We don’t have to, Cupcake. There’s no pressure.”
“No!” She pulls me down by wrapping her arms around me. “No,” the words ghost over my ear. “I’m not scared. I’m happy. I’m relieved I’m with you. I trust you.” She kisses my cheek and drags her lips across the edge of my jaw until she’s at my mouth. “I trust you,” the words are whispered across my lips.
I pull myself closer, crawling until I’m settled over her, lifting one leg over my hips while sliding one arm under her back. The first thing I notice as my fingers spread between her shoulder blades is how soft her skin is. I could lie here for hours just like this, body pressed against hers, lips teasing mine, her skin reacting to my touch, and I’d be the happiest man alive.