Too Long: A Charli and Draken Epilogue

by Richensexi, Amanda

  It was all he could do not to yank out that goddamned sex tool and plow her in front of all his esteemed colleagues.

  He caught the eye of one of the servers. He'd noticed the man’s attention kept straying to Charli as he was busing dirty dishes. Draken had seen his crestfallen expression earlier when the staff had been warned against using cameras and Draken had read out the clause in the agreement prohibiting connected devices. The server wouldn’t try anything. He might think about talking later, but Draken would take care of that.

  A few pics had already been attempted by attendees with inconspicuous gadgets; Draken would deal with those people later as well. It came with the territory of indulging his wife. If Charli knew the measures he now routinely took to jam and scramble phone transmissions during their special sessions, she would object on principle. Loudly.

  Some things it was better she not know, for her own good, and, he acknowledged sheepishly, for his. Spy gadgets weren’t just for the feds and hobbyists; they littered Draken’s playground. Sports gear was the cornerstone of the Almatto Tech Corporation, and artificially intelligent adult toys a fast-growing sideline. However, certain other inventions he’d covertly sponsored and developed only a few people knew about. If Charli knew, she’d waste a week of her life lecturing him on who-knows-what about it.

  Charli might also potentially have an issue with some of his intimidation methods.

  And retaliations.

  And containment measures.

  But again. He was good with being the asshole in this marriage, as long as it meant his sweet Charli didn’t have to put up with any intimidation from pricks other than him.

  When Charli’s orgasm had thirty seconds left on the clock, he started soothingly stroking her glorious brown hair, which had become matted down with sweat. His wife had been reduced to gasps. Her hips were moving in that belly dancer way that pleased him, her tits flying free…and he didn’t even think she was aware that the whole time, she’d been tracking his location. No matter where he moved, she reached for him.

  “Two waters,” he said to a passing server, and not for the first time rued Matthew’s absence. He trusted his cousin implicitly to take care of any loose ends.

  However, at the moment it was Ancel Schmidt, a new ATJ hiree, who was acting as Draken’s P.A. The man was known for screwing anything with legs, and Draken didn’t want him anywhere near Charli. He sighed. “Schmidt, enough with the notes. Get portraits and profiling of everyone here, hotel staff included. Send links to Matthew. Any leaks that I find particularly annoying I’m holding you accountable for.”

  Ancel gulped. “Yes, sir.”

  Charli’s orgasm had finally ended. She began to weep in that way of hers that said she was overcome by the magnitude of what had just happened. He scooped her up, rose, and walked out with her. Excited voices followed him, which he ignored. The hotel lobby was teeming with people. Impatiently he strode to the elevators.

  “Draken?” she blubbered. “Where are we going?”

  “My room,” he said curtly.

  “I thought you said we didn’t have time to—”

  “I changed my mind,” he stated, shifting her in his arms, paying no attention to the gaping onlookers. “We have thirty minutes before you have to head out.”

  “I love you,” she hiccuped. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure sure?”

  It went on like this. He was alternating between laughing and biting her by the time they got to his suite.

  He dropped her straight onto the bed, then landed on top of her with a throaty, “fucking goddamn hell, woman” and took her mouth with a groan of pure relief even as he shoved open her legs.

  A moment later the Glas-Young rod was out and he was in. That first deep, slicing thrust found her exquisitely tight, hot, and wet. Charli’s cunt had narrowed and toned in his absence—his good, good girl had done all her exercises.

  Apparently he sounded like a wounded animal upon entry, because his wife’s tears dried up and she snort-giggled even as she yelped, “Ow.”

  He lifted his head to give her a meaningful stare. “I love you.”

  “I love you.” Mercurial as ever, she burst into tears. “I don’t want to go. I have to. But I really don’t want to. I miss you when you go away. I miss your dickishness even. I love you so much.”

  The heart he’d never known he possessed seemed to crack open further each time he looked into those incredibly overemotional brown eyes. “I—need you, Charli. Love—you.” He tried to curtail his thrusts, he could feel he was overstretching her, but her transparent expression told him she was adoring his size. He drove home again and again. Nothing felt like this.

  “I love you! Ow! Don’t stop! Ooph.”

  “Love—you.”

  “Are we being too—”

  “Maudlin? Sentimental?” he growled.

  “Yes! Oh, I love you!”

  “Of course we—fucking are. Your fault. Fucking. Love. You. I’ll never have you close—enough—to me—woman.” He clenched his ass, holding off the building explosion to bare his teeth at her. “When you get home—you lock on Ms. Chastity—until I’m back, you hear me?”

  “Not the evil belt! You are—mad at me. Aren’t—you—oh gaaaaahd! I love youuu!”

  If a qualified futurist had tried to tell Draken that exploding naked inside a particular woman’s cunt would one day become his highest form of joy, he’d have fired him. Yet that was the truth. Nothing matched locking eyes with his woman while blasting his jizz deep into her. Nothing equaled seeing that expression of grateful wonder—which he had the bad feeling was reflected off his own expression—as her arms and legs locked fiercely around him.

  Confirming they belonged to each other.

  Last Valentine’s Day, Charli had forced him to watch My Fair Lady, a sappy musical about a snobbish professor who tried to turn a coarse commoner into a refined lady. He’d realized how very hooked he was on his wife when he found himself riveted by the man’s wistful song, “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face.” Every line of the absurd chorus applied to him. Hell, he saw eerie similarities between himself and the arrogant prick of a professor, except in his case, Charli was My Brunette Fuck Toy. She’d stolen his serenely independent existence from him simply by being her honest self.

  It enraged him to think this would all end, and so soon. All because of her deviant, base, primitive needs. All because he’d been ambushed by domestic bliss.

  “You know I love you with all the love ever,” she said on a shuddering sigh as he gathered her close.

  “Ditto you and this sassy ass,” he muttered, squeezing her derriere. “I’ll whip it to a burn next time I see you.”

  “What about now?” She plucked wheedling little kisses at the base of his throat.

  “No time. I've got to get you on that plane.” He forced himself to push her away. This was the last he’d see of her for days. He’d have no access to her body, her scent, her freckles, her needy hunger. Fuck this fucked situation.

  “And you’re really not mad at me? And don’t say—”

  “We’ll talk when I get back.”

  “Aaargh, I knew you’d say that, you gnome!”

  Chapter 9

  DRAKEN’S LAST OMINOUS WORDS haunted Charli over the next few days.

  We’ll talk when I get back.

  He hardly called, and then only briefly. All his texts were sexy teases. He sent her one email—one—wishing her good luck on her exam. By early next week, Charli had worked herself, along with her friends, into a frenzy trying to guess what was on Draken’s mind.

  With her husband, there was no telling what it might be.

  What was worse, she hadn’t been permitted an orgasm since their brief time together in Chicago. She knew Draken was relieving his own lust daily, for he told her. He knew it drove her wild when he got all the orgasms he wanted and she got none. And her
misery was worse than that, for he’d ordered her to wear Ms. Chastity, the diabolical intelligent device that kept her lust finely tuned.

  He wanted her so horny she was twitching when he next saw her, he informed her smugly.

  By Wednesday, she was there, writhing all through the night, mewling with desire and texting him a barrage of pleas for mercy. Her need became so great she nearly forgot to worry about what was on Draken's mind.

  His response? A demand for tit and pussy pics and a recommendation to take up Buddhist meditation.

  Their last texting conversation before he left his hotel reminded her that Draken Almatto would never be predictable.

  Draken: Suffer, sweetness. Ms. Chastity is not coming off until you give me what I want.

  Charli: I’ll give it to you right now! Tell me what I have to do!

  Draken: You can’t. You know, darling, nobody else would I let screw with my life the way you do.

  Charli: What do you mean? You know I’ll give you anything Mr. Almatto.

  Draken: No you won’t. You won’t rest until I’m a hollow shell of a man.

  Charli: WHAT DO YOU MEAN??

  Draken: I love you, Charli, but I always knew this marriage shit was a trap.

  Charli: WHAAAAT?

  Draken: You’re mine. Nobody else’s. Say it.

  Charli: I’m yours my love. XXXXOOOO

  Draken: You will always be mine.

  Charli: Yes. :)

  Draken: You are fucking destroying me.

  Charli: What? NO!? Don’t be depressed. When you get home I’ll lick you YOU know where, every inch of you, ALL your inches, husband, I’ll lick you for hours, you’ll feel so much better!

  Charli: Mmm, please Mr. Almatto can I come? Please I need to come right now.

  Draken: You know the answer to that, baby. When I land I expect you to greet me on your hands and knees, with Ms. Chastity, nipple clamps, and wet thighs.

  Charli: Um at the air strip?????

  Draken: No, darling. In our foyer.

  Charli: Oh fuck OK now I need an orgasm right now PLEEEEEASE.

  When he replied, Not a chance, but feel free to beg all you want, Charli whimpered, on the verge of signalling true desperation with one of her special code words. Draken had given her the words though she’d never used them. Who needed safe words when this man read her needs so well? “I love begging my wicked, cruel dragon,” she’d confessed at the start of their marriage.

  But he’d insisted. “I’d lose my shit if I ever hurt that damnably tender heart of yours, Charli. I need to know you have a way to tell me if I go too far. And don’t fucking tell anyone that.”

  She understood. “It would hurt your reputation as an unfeeling, ruthless, power-hungry bastard.”

  “Damn right, fuck toy.”

  She nearly did decide to use it, until it dawned on her that it wasn’t the need for sexual release driving her past her limits. It was Draken’s cursed stubbornness. There was something on his mind, and he was being a close-mouthed gnome about it. Even an orgasm wouldn’t relieve that.

  Draken’s next text had her bursting into semi-hysterical laughter: And bake me some banana nut bread.

  Charli: OK…um with walnuts or pecans?

  Draken: Whatever you want.

  Charli: Frosted?

  Draken: Sure.

  Charli: Cranberries or dates?

  Draken: Do I fucking care?

  Charli: In that case you get unsoaked raisins!

  Charli: I mean, your wish is my command, exalted master Draken.

  Charli: Damn it did you just change the programming on this horrible chastity belt? Why oh whyyyyyy?

  Draken: You weren’t suffering enough, clearly.

  DRAKEN’S STRANGE MOOD CONTINUED to puzzle her the whole time she prepared for his return. She’d had as close to an argument as she’d ever come with his cousin, Matthew, over who got to be in the limo that picked up Draken. Apparently, Matthew had been instructed by her overbearing husband not to let Charli within a mile of the airport.

  “He has two meetings, angel,” Matthew had reminded her.

  “I know, I just want to see him!”

  “And he would be devastated if you missed class because of it,” Matthew said smoothly.

  “I know. Does he copy you on all our messages?”

  “Only when he expects disobedience.”

  “He’s not my overlord. Much.” A suspicion occurred to her. “Is he planning something?”

  “Sadly, as far as I know he is not.”

  Charli wasn’t sure if she believed him. She now knew Matthew well enough to know he’d lie shamelessly if he felt justified.

  “I swear, Freckles, no mad sartorial antics have I been privy to,” Matthew said solemnly, and then his voice changed to petulant. “Next time have pity on me, will you? Just go with the man. He’s like a lion with a thorn in his side without you. He made me come back from paradise early.”

  “Elizabeth said you got bored with doing nothing. And,” Charli blushed, “you were getting raw.”

  Actually, her friend, who was deep in a relationship with the former manwhore, had said, “He had the gall to accuse me of wearing him out! Me. I’m only one person! How can he be chafed? Do you know how many women he used to bed at one time?”

  “Maybe he’s slowed down with age?” Charli had suggested.

  “I wouldn’t say so,” Elizabeth had said cautiously.

  Charli had been intrigued but forcibly bitten her tongue. Since getting involved with Matthew, Elizabeth had come a long way from the prim, virginal lady Charli had first met, but Charli still found it awkward to talk about their respective sex lives. Probably because Elizabeth had to have learned by now of Charli and Draken’s kinky antics. Yet the two women never spoke of it directly. It was one thing for Charli to spill her guts to her raunchier friends; sharing sexy tales with good girl Elizabeth felt almost incestuous.

  It was silly, really. After all, with Matthew for a boyfriend, Elizabeth couldn’t be that innocent.

  Charli might flounce, but she knew she was going to obey Draken. His orders that morning, sent right before his plane took off, had been explicit.

  Draken: When I walk in that door tonight, fuck toy, I expect to find you naked on display, nipples on a short chain, rump facing the door so it's the first thing I see. Your chastity belt should be securely on. Wear your glasses. And I want to see your purse next to you on the floor.

  Charli: My purse?? You mean the big leather one with the pockets, or one of my evening bags?

  Draken: Leather one. Confirm with me.

  Charli: Um OK. That’s interesting. What do you mean about my nipples? Ugh that sounds painful.

  Draken: It will be if you do it right, sweetness. Clamp your tits with prototype NC8, level two is fine, then fasten the clamps to the shortest chain we have.

  Charli: The SAME chain? Both of them?

  Draken: Precisely.

  Charli: But the shortest chain is sooooo short. Nooooo!!! Ouch!

  Draken: Poor baby. I’ll be home between six and seven.

  Charli: What if you don’t get here till seven? OMG, I’ll be crawling on the floor for an hour!

  Draken: Now you’re getting the idea. That reminds me, better wear your knee pads. See you tonight, Mrs. Cuteness.

  Chapter 10

  SHE'D MARRIED A DEMONSPAWN, but then, she’d known that going in.

  Charli found herself on all fours that evening, decked out shamefully as Draken had commanded. She was unbearably turned on, half expecting the door to fly open to a bunch of businessmen. He’d better not. If Draken sprang that on her tonight, she’d burst into tears. She missed him too much for perviness now.

  She’d texted him with that information, but he hadn’t responded, merely sent her a quick text when his plane landed. It had been Matthew who’d called and updated her on Draken’s itinerary.

  Now she was posed as instructed on the plush entryway rug, glasses perched on her nose, ass in t
he air. Ms. Chastity was chugging away at her pussy, robotically tantalizing her as only an ATJ toy could. Her clamped nipples were chained so closely together it created an awful, unrelenting burn that sizzled straight to her erotic core.

  Pent-up longing had put her into an inflamed, swollen state, her sex gushing with her need. She must look like a shameless hussy. Her humiliating condition would be revealed to her husband in vivid detail the moment he entered.

  It felt like ages she’d been waiting with her bottom facing the door, anticipating his arrival. In sudden frustration, she scrambled inside her purse to find her phone. Three minutes after seven! How late would that man be? He hadn’t even messaged her.

  It was all simply too much. Her most favorite clamps…her plump behind rudely turned to the door…plus Ms. Chastity, the hated device that had mercilessly nudged her pussy hole without once entering it, for days!

  She moaned pathetically, raising her bottom yet higher, as if being extra submissive would magically make Draken appear.

  At last, her phone buzzed. Unfortunately, it was only Matthew. “He’s running late, angel. He’ll be with you in about fifteen minutes. Hang in there.”

  She blushed. “Did he tell you what he had me do?”

  “I know nothing,” Matthew soothed her. “Relax. Cuz’ll be there soon.”

  Aaargh!

  It was definitely longer than fifteen minutes, horrible man. At the first sound of the door snicking open, Charli froze and held her breath. She heard footfalls and then silence.