by T. S. Snow
I raised one of her legs to help her up, and she jumped me like a monkey. I tightened my grip on her ass as she locked her legs around me. The arm she had thrown around my neck held me tightly.
Fuck, I had missed her.
I walked backwards, carrying her inside the apartment and closed the door behind us, while she kissed my jaw, my neck, my mouth, my runes—every part of me she could reach.
I pressed her against the door, touching her above the fabric of her dress. When I moved to her breasts, I could feel her pert nipples standing at attention, and I got even harder.
Char wasn’t wearing a bra, and based on where my hand was cupping her ass, her bare ass, she wasn't wearing underwear, either.
Unless she was wearing a thong, and even then, that was hardly a barrier at all.
I wanted to drop my pants and fuck her right here, right now, against the door. I wanted it so badly, I could feel her sweet pussy tightening around me as I thrust into her.
But that wasn’t why I had asked her out tonight.
“Little Spitfire,” I tried to say, while she trailed kisses down my throat. Fuck, I wanted inside of her so bad, it hurt. “This isn’t why I invited you over today.” My breaths were coming fast, my heart beating so quickly, it felt like I ran a marathon. I gripped her hips, almost hard enough to leave bruises, but not quite.
Char didn’t stop kissing me, though. In fact, she went from kissing my neck to peppering love bites all over my neck, jaw, she even bit the corner of my lip, before moving up to my ear.
I groaned.
“I mean,” I tried again, praying for the Goddess to give me strength, but I didn’t stop one of my hands from moving to cup her ass, adjusting her body so she could feel how hard I was through my pants. My dick was hard enough to cut diamonds. “I did hope we would…but later. I wanted to feed you first, at the very least.”
Char stopped torturing me to give me a hungry smile. “I know something you could feed me.” Then she pointedly looked down, and that was all it took.
Whatever was left of my control snapped, and I jumped on her like a man starved.
We could do all the talking and dining later; right now, I needed her more than I needed my next breath.
Char made a victorious little sound with her throat while I kissed her, moving my hand so I could tease her clit.
I’d been right. Char really wasn’t wearing underwear.
With a growl, I touched her pussy, spreading her lips so I could insert a finger inside her. My Char was so fucking wet, I almost fell to my knees right then and there. Instead, I deepened the kiss, my tongue warring against hers as I inserted a second finger in her wet, tight heat.
Char moaned and bucked, thrusting her hips forward to get more friction. Unabashedly, she started to ride my hand, making little noises of pleasure that drove me crazy. I broke our kiss and moved to her ear, breathing on it and biting on the lobe lightly, teasingly, the way I knew she loved.
When she unzipped my pants and wrapped her hand around my dick, I sent the Goddess a little thank you.
I looked at Char, my Char. My Little Spitfire. Her lips were swollen from our kisses and her mouth was slightly open, her hair was starting to come loose from the braid, and her cheeks were flushed. The skirt of her dress was hiding the view of her riding my fingers, but her breasts were bare to me. Thank fuck for off the shoulder dresses, they made for incredibly easy access.
Char had never looked more beautiful.
And the fact that she was mine...mine to touch, mine to kiss, mine to have. It was everything.
“Blaze,” Char moaned my name, throwing her head back against the door when I curled my fingers to hit her G-spot. “I need you. Inside. NOW.”
She squeezed my dick tighter with her demand, and I could’ve sworn I saw stars.
Char guided me inside of her, and I had just enough time to take my fingers out before I was at her entrance. I pushed forward, marveling in the feel of Char’s wet heat as she took all of me. We both moaned at the same time, right before I took her mouth in a bruising kiss and started moving inside of her.
This. This moment. With Char half naked, clinging to me, kissing me like she needed me to breathe, with the sound of skin against skin and the feel of her wet pussy around my cock, clenching around me, this was fucking heaven.
I was home.
I thrust into her harder, and she moaned against my lips. Char held onto my shoulders, her fingers digging into my skin, and her legs tightening around me as she rode me faster. She rode me like we’d never been apart, like she owned me.
And she did.
“Harder, Blaze, please,” Char demanded, her heels digging against my ass as she tried to get even more friction.
“Wait. Couch,” I said, worried if I kept banging her against the door like I was, I’d cause some irreparable damage. Last time we’d been against a door, I hadn’t fucked her quite so hard. “Hang on.”
It was the only warning I gave her before, still inside of her, I carried her to the couch, kicking my pants off while I walked.
“Quickly,” Char commanded, unbuttoning my shirt and getting rid of it on our way to the couch. I smiled at her, giving her a quick kiss before I laid her down and followed.
Char welcomed me with open arms, like she was welcoming me home.
I thrust back into her, somehow being able to go even deeper from this position. Char gave a little gasp when I once again hit her G-spot, and I did my best to keep hitting it every time I entered her.
“Blaze.” The way she moaned my name, on a breathy gasp, made me want to stay buried inside of her forever, hearing nothing but her calling out my name over and over.
I felt myself getting closer to the edge, so I slid a hand between us and touched her clit, rubbing it with my thumb.
“Come for me, Little Spitfire,” I demanded, and like the good girl she was, she exploded around me. Her pussy clenched even tighter around my dick, and I followed her release with my own, as her walls milked my cock for everything I had.
26
Charisma
I lazily trailed a fingertip over Blaze’s naked back. He laid atop of me on the couch where we’d ended up during our sex-a-thon, and his weight on me should have been smothering, but I drew comfort from it. I had missed him, more than I cared to admit out loud, and when he’d had me under him, when he’d been inside of me once again, I’d felt like another piece of my soul was clicking back into place.
It felt right. To be here with him like this.
Smiling, I placed a kiss on his shoulder, right over his hellhound tattoo. I loved that tattoo. Actually, I loved all of his tattoos, the way the tiny runes covered most of his skin, turning his body into a canvas. However, the wolf was a whole other level of design, and it never ceased to amaze me how intricately the runes had been done to give that much detail and make it seem so incredibly lifelike.
It was breathtaking.
Blaze shifted on top of me, distributing most of his weight on his arms. I tried to stop him by clinging to him like a baby octopus—I loved his weight on me.
“Little Spitfire, I’m crushing you,” Blaze chuckled, trying to fight against my advanced octopi skills.
I clung to him harder, nipping his shoulder in warning.
His chuckle became full-out laughter, making my whole body shake along with his, but at least he finally got the memo and just laid back down on top of me.
Content, I nuzzled against his neck. “Good boy,” I said, patting his ass.
Then, thinking better of it, I groped him because I could.
Mine now.
“Yes, Char. I’m yours.” Blaze’s voice was heavy with satisfaction. So much so, I didn’t even feel embarrassed about having claimed him out loud, instead of in my head like I’d originally thought.
I went back to trailing my fingers over his body, trying to trace the runes I could see, trying to figure out what they did or meant.
“Char, if you keep doing that, I’l
l have to take you again, and I was really hoping I could feed you first, at least.” Blaze raised his head to look at me. “I had this whole night planned, you know? I wasn’t supposed to maul you against the front door like a savage.”
His words made me smile. “I’d like to think I was the one who mauled you against the front door. If I remember correctly, I was the one who jumped you like you were my own personal jungle gym.” I was insanely proud of myself for having wrecked his control so fast, and so completely. “Besides, you did try to get us to stop so we could have dinner, no? My hunger was just for something else.”
Part of it was totally Andres’s fault, for leaving me horny and wanting, but the other part of it had been just…Blaze. I’d honestly missed him like hell, and I’d been craving this connection with him since we got back together. So when he’d opened the door for me, with his dress shirt clinging nicely to his muscles, I’d just jumped him.
In my defense, I was a sucker for guys in dress shirts. And suits. It just did something to my synapses, frying them and turning me into one horny mess.
So, clearly, if he had planned for us to not have sex the minute I arrived, he should’ve been dressed in something else.
There was no fighting my sound logic.
A wave of lust hit me when I felt Blaze hardening against me once more. I hummed in approval, ready to get started on round two.
But before I could start rubbing against him like a cat in heat, he kissed me once, languidly, lovingly. Then his weight was no longer on top of me; instead, he was standing beside the couch, his heated eyes staring at me with a hunger I could feel myself matching.
“Let me treat you to dinner, Little Spitfire, then we can go to bed, and I’ll worship your body as long as you want, the way you deserve me to. We should probably talk too, just the two of us.”
I sighed. “I guess.”
As if that was all the agreement he needed, Blaze scooped me from the couch, and led me to the bathroom to clean up.
I knew I should protest, say I could walk by myself, but one thing I’d learned from my relationship with the guys was that I really liked it when they did the aftercare. It was just another way of them looking after me and my needs, to show me what we had went beyond the physical.
It was sweet, and heartwarming.
So I rested my head against his shoulder, and let him carry and take care of me.
“You cooked?” I squeaked, staring in awe at Blaze as he strutted around the kitchen in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Fine, fine gray sweatpants that were a top contender in the “clothes that make eye-candy for women” category. Not that Blaze needed the help of the sweatpants to look hot, but with his yummy, tattooed chest bare for my ogling, and the pants that did little to disguise what he was carrying, Blaze was downright mouth watering right now.
If he’d opened the door wearing what he currently was, I’d have jumped him even faster. No joke.
Although, considering I hadn’t even made it through the front door before jumping him, I had no idea how I could’ve done it any faster, but details.
Blaze honest-to-the-Goddess blushed at my question, his gaze lowering and not meeting mine. It was beyond adorable.
“I wanted to do something nice for you. A do-over, so you’ll never have to doubt my commitment to you ever again.” His eyes sought mine long enough that I could see how serious he was about it, how much he meant it, before dropping again. He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the short mohawk, before moving to the back of his neck. “I’m not the best cook, but I followed the recipe and made Carbonara.”
I beamed at him, before crossing to his side of the kitchen island and placing a kiss on his cheek, then his lips. “You didn’t have to, but I’m incredibly grateful that you went through all this trouble for me. For us.”
Blaze’s arms wrapped around me, bringing me even closer to him until our bodies were touching everywhere. The easy affection of the gesture, the intimacy, made my butterflies go all fluttery and my heart go all weird.
He placed a kiss on my head before speaking. “I wanted to do it, Little Spitfire. You’re giving me a second chance, and I wanted to make today special.”
Be still, my poor little antisocial heart.
Because it was the only thing I could reach, I kissed his naked chest, right above his heart.
“You already have.”
Seriously. This guy. How the fuck was I so lucky as to have not one, but three amazingly sexy and thoughtful boyfriends?
I was soooo unworthy. But I’d be damned if I was going to be the one to tell them that.
I’d just eat up aaalll the love and attention and affection for as long as I could, because I was greedy like that.
Blaze’s arms tightened around me for a second, before he let me go, stepping away from me. “Okay, why don’t you sit down? I’ll heat up our food and then we can eat and talk.”
I shuffled my weight from one foot to another. “Sorry that I…uh…distracted you and caused the food to go cold.” I wasn’t really sorry for the sex itself, but I was sorry that he’d gone through all the trouble of cooking for me, and then I’d waylaid him and ruined his food.
Blaze chuckled, and my eyes jumped up to see him looking at me with a hell lot of affection and heat in his gaze. “Believe me, Char, it was more than worth it.”
I gulped.
Well, alright then.
Deciding to be a good girl, I walked to the tall stools on the other side of the island, so I could watch him while he cooked, or finished cooking, even.
Blaze’s kitchen was pretty neat, especially if you considered he’d said he wasn’t much of a cook. The open concept between kitchen and living room made it so the small space wasn’t stifling, but cozy as hell. The oven, fridge and all other appliances were stainless steel, and they almost shone when paired with the white marble of the countertops and black cupboards. The stool where I sat was black, too, matching the furniture, but it had an incredibly comfortable cushion as well as support for my back which was fabulous because I so wasn’t the kind of person who could easily sit on a stool without some kind of support for my back. Knowing me, I’d either fall backwards when I attempted to change my position, or I’d slouch like a champ and my back would suffer for it.
I was twenty-three going on three hundred.
His kitchen seemed to match what little I’d been able to actually see of his apartment, but what had surprised me most of all had been how small Blaze’s apartment seemed, especially in comparison to Andres’s, Logan’s, and hell, even my own late place. Not that he needed to have a super fancy, big as fuck apartment near Central Park like Logan did, but with the kind of money the Futharks had, I guess I sort of had expected him to have indulged a bit more.
Was it hypocritical of me to be glad that he hadn’t? I mean, not that I thought any less of Andres for indulging his needs, but I liked that Blaze’s place was…different.
“Char?” Blaze’s question had me snapping out of my trip through lala land and looking at him.
Somewhere during my internal musings, he’d finished cooking and turned to me, probably to place the dishes on the counter so we could dig in. Instead, he held both plates while he frowned at me.
I gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I was distracted.”
Blaze smiled kindly at me, and placed the plates on the table. “It’s alright. Let me just grab the salad and our wine, and we’re all set.”
“I’ll help!” I volunteered, getting out of my seat. The least I could do was help him set the table and then probably wash the dishes. I hated washing dishes with a passion, but fair was fair. Besides, dish washing was better than cooking, especially when my cooking basically consisted of throwing frozen stuff in the oven or air fryer and then hoping I didn’t forget about them.
Nothing said bon appétit like burned pizza with an underside of charcoal.
I got up from my seat and hunted for some wine glasses while Blaze opened the bottle.
&
nbsp; “Second cupboard to your left,” Blaze said, putting the now open bottle of white wine on the table, and then moving to the fridge to get the salad.
I had to go full ballerina and stand on the tips of my toes to reach the wine glasses, and even then, my fingertips barely brushed the stems of the glass.
At five foot eight, I was not used to feeling short, but this goddamned cupboard was mocking me.
I took a deep breath and stretched even more, to my limit, finally managing to close my fingers around one of the glasses.
Blaze’s hand on my bare back—after the sexy times, I put on his shirt and boxers for dinner—startled me enough that I jumped, almost dropping the damn glass.
Blaze chuckled near my ear, making me shiver, but his hands held me in place, making sure I didn’t lose my balance. Then, with his body completely molded to mine, he held me until I brought the glass down and put it on the counter, safe.
He kissed my neck, and I didn’t know whether to moan or elbow him in the gut for being amused by my struggle.
Instead, I decided to play dirty and I pressed my back against him even more, making sure I rubbed against his growing erection before I went on my tiptoes again for glass number two.
“Need help, Little Spitfire?” Blaze’s breathing on my neck was slowly driving me insane. I thought that by going on my tiptoes, I’d have gotten rid of it, but the contrary seemed to have happened. Now, my ear was pretty much level with his mouth, and he was taking full advantage of it.
Blaze’s big hands were on my hips, his incredibly long fingers almost touching parts of me that were not appropriate to be touched in public. Not that we were in public, so it didn’t matter.
It was oh so tempting to turn to him, say fuck dinner, and ask him to fuck me instead. But this sexy teasing was fun, too, and insanely hot. The lead up promised that once we did have sex again, it would be mind blowing. I mean, sex with Blaze so far had always been mind blowing, but I was greedy, and there was nothing in the rulebook that said I couldn’t aim for even higher and more explosive.