Sweet Charity

by Lauren Dane

  He traced the tip of the crop over the seam of her ass. He wasn’t a stranger to crops, having grown up in rural America and all. But it was a skill that needed practice and honing.

  A quick switch of his wrist and he landed a sharp snap against her thighs, just below the curve of her ass.

  “Oh!” She squirmed and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the red line he’d made on her flesh.

  Oh indeed.

  Again and again, he landed the crop against her butt and her thighs. More for the sound than the actual strike, although he did love the webwork of red lines from the crop. He watched her carefully, noting her reactions, making sure to keep her on the right side of the pleasure/pain divide. Creating a heat but not a burn. He loved the careful creation of the experience for her, wanted her first time to be something she’d always remember after she’d married a guy like Brian and thought back to the wild fling she’d had with that very bad boy back in the day.

  Her head drooped and her breathing deepened as she slowly became drunk with the sum of everything he did. Could it be possible that she’d gone into subspace? Surely not her first time out?

  He tossed the crop aside and blew over the heated, reddened skin. She moaned, low and deep. Her thighs glistened, she was so wet. He traced a fingertip over engorged, juicy labia and she thrust her ass back to him.

  Anything else he could have handled. But this? The way she’d submitted and liked it, really liked it given the state of her thighs, had broken him down. He needed her with an intensity he didn’t quite know how to process.

  Making sure she was all right and still on board with the program, he quickly got rid of his shirt and pants and positioned himself behind her. Rolling a condom on his cock nearly sent him over the damned edge he was so turned on.

  Fighting against the urge to slam into her, instead he took his time, pressing and retreating, getting a bit deeper each time until he was buried to the root.

  Her skin was still hot from where he’d used the crop, the feel of it against his thighs created a delicious contrast. The inner walls of her body clutched at him even as she fit him like she was made just for his cock.

  Charity swam through the depth of pleasure she was swamped in, surfacing to feel every bit of him as he thrust into her slowly, his fingertips tracing over the knobs of her spine.

  He was so unexpected on every level. He’d just used a riding crop on her! And yet, he’d given her such an intensity of pleasure and sensation she’d never have been able to imagine. This was BDSM? She’d always thought of it like dudes in leather pants using face masks and chaining up their women in the corner and stuff. Come to think of it, Gabriel in leather pants would work and the idea of him tying her up wasn’t one she was opposed to at all. Masks? Not so much. Or those gags with the rubber balls. So not for her.

  But he seemed to be able to anticipate just what she’d like and he gave it to her. The blindfold thing really worked too. With her eyes still covered, she felt with more intensity. His touch, the way he fucked her, so gentle after the crop. Such sweetness after such raw sexual energy made her want to cry.

  “So beautiful, you’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispered and she heard desire threading his voice.

  He made her feel it, feel beautiful and adored. She didn’t need to see his face just then to know how he looked at her. No one had ever looked at her that way. Why he seemed to fear it, when he was so good at it, when he seemed to feel it too made her sort of pissed off.

  Tears pricked the back of her eyes. She wanted him to love her, to be okay with being with her. How would she get past his reserve?

  On he went until she fell under the sway of whatever personal magic they made, just the two of them. His slow digs into her pussy built her up inexorably, filling her cells bit by bit with so much pleasure she wanted to explode from it even as she never wanted it to end.

  “I’m coming…you too,” he urged. “Make yourself come.”

  She braced her head down and levered one hand up to her clit, catching it between her middle and forefinger. Three slippery squeezes and she rocketed into climax with a gasped cry of his name and he shoved into her so deep she felt him tap her cervix as he followed.

  “Be right back,” he said, removing her blindfold and kissing her shoulder.

  She collapsed on her belly, the cool sheets beneath her soothing as she caught her breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sliding into bed next to her. “I didn’t hurt you?”

  She turned her head to face him, smiling at his concern. “I’m more than okay. I feel lovely. You didn’t hurt me. I had no idea at all. If someone had told me yesterday that being whipped with a crop could make me feel like that I wouldn’t have believed them. I liked it, a lot. The blindfold gave me so much more sensation.”

  He returned her smile, lying on his side and she took a risk, snuggling into him and happily, he took her into his arms, kissing the top of her head.

  “When can we do it again?”

  Chapter Seven

  Charity helped her mother do dishes and tried not to overanalyze the night before. Which was impossible.

  She’d stayed until about 3 am and then had left. Charity had decent manners, she’d waited for him to ask her to stay but he hadn’t and in the end, she’d gotten up and dressed. Instead he’d walked her to her car and watched her drive away.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d worked at the shop with less than four hours’ sleep but her frustration had kept her awake until they’d closed up at one. Brunch at her house was more like a late lunch. Why they’d never started calling it lunch she didn’t know but Sunday brunches were eaten at two pm. Period.

  She hadn’t bothered to ask Gabriel to join them, he’d pissed her off so much. More than that, it hurt a bit that she knew he felt something for her but ran from it so hard. Charity needed some space from him to lick her wounds and re-fortify herself for another round.

  “So what’s the deal between you and Gabriel?” Jason asked, taking the plate from her and drying it.

  “According to him? Or according to me?”

  Jason handed the towel to Jeremy and took her hand. “Let’s go for a walk. Jer, take over.”

  Once they’d gotten a bit away from the house, the quiet of the day hit her, calming her slightly.

  “I’ve known Gabriel as long as you have. I’ve seen him with a lot of women. A lot of them. They come and they go without much of an impression in his life.” Jason looked out over the horizon.

  She took a deep breath. “Are you telling me it’s hopeless? That he’ll never settle down?”

  “Is that what you want? To settle down?”

  “I’ve spent pretty much every waking moment of the last week or so thinking about my feelings for Gabriel. And before that, I thought about it every few days and tried not to. Gabriel has been in my thoughts in some way or another pretty much since I was sixteen years old. You know what I realized last night?”

  Her brother leaned against one of the almond trees in their yard and waited for her to speak.

  “I’m in love with him. Yes I want to settle down. With Gabriel Bettencourt. So if you think it’s hopeless tell me. If I keep this up and he pushes me away it’s going to really hurt.”

  He reached out to squeeze her hand. “I don’t think it’s hopeless. You’re already close to him. It’s clear to anyone with eyes you two have major chemistry. I took a grain delivery out to the dairy today for dad. Gabriel, Rafe and I had coffee. You know what he talked about the whole time?”

  “Me?” She knew she had all sorts of wistful hope in her voice but she couldn’t help it.

  “You’re something else, you know that? And yeah, you. He tried not to. Told me he was all wrong for you. But when Gabe is done with a woman, he’s done. There’s no pillow talk, there’s no sharing of funny anecdotes with his friends. Today he talked about how you were at dinner with his family. He talked about stuff we all did growing up. I want to tell you I don’t think you
should give up. He’d be a fool not to love you. But I need to know and you need to really ask yourself, is he the wrong guy for you? If yes, then let him go. Being unhappy isn’t worth it. If he’s the right guy, then fight for him and convince him he’s precisely the right guy for you.”

  “You’d die from TMI if I told you what the issue is and I’m pretty sure I would too. But he’s being so dumb about this not right for you thing.”

  Her brother looked uncomfortable for a moment and then sighed. “Is this a sex thing? Like he’s into something super weird like diapers or something?”

  She held back a laugh, not only at how her brother looked at the moment but at the thought of Gabriel thinking anyone believed he was into diapers.

  “Well, gosh, you know, they make them in adult sizes now and since you knew, I guess it’s not that big a secret.”

  He looked at her, his eyes widening in horror until she burst out laughing and then he socked her in the arm.

  “I’m sorry, I had to! It is a sex thing yes, but it’s not particularly weird and certainly not in the realm of diapers. I worry about your exposure to public schools, Jason, if this is what you’re thinking about all day. Does Gina like this sort of stuff?”

  “You suck. I’ll get you for that. And for your information, Gina and I broke up.”

  “Oh no! Because of the whatsherface thing?”

  “No. Mom was right. But don’t tell her that. She and I just weren’t right for each other although the sex, the non-diaper sex, was great, there was nothing else. I want to settle down too. I’m knocking on thirty years old in just a few months, I want a family of my own. She wasn’t ready.” He shrugged.

  They walked back into the house, laughing, and she felt a lot better.

  He’d wanted her to stay until he had to get up to work but hadn’t asked. He knew he’d hurt her but he was desperate to keep distance between them. Especially after the way she’d been with him, so beautifully open and accepting, so sexual and exciting…he lay there in his bed and found himself falling for her in a way he’d never expected. The power of that scared the hell out of him.

  She hadn’t called or shown up that whole day. He knew her shop was open until one on Sundays so she could have come by any time after that. Of course, he could call her or drop by. They were friends. He’d done it before.

  He made up his mind and headed to his truck, only to stop at his parents’ house when he caught sight of her car out front.

  “Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Charity said calmly as he entered his mother’s kitchen. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she had on an apron. She stood at the table with his mom and sister, kneading bread and laughing.

  “I think that’s my line.” It came out sharper than he’d intended and she physically reacted, her eyes meeting his and he didn’t fail to catch the flash of hurt there.

  Slowly, she stepped back and wiped her hands.

  “I’m going to get going now. Just let my mom know when you’re done with the trays and Jason will come by to get them.”

  His mother looked at him but couldn’t make him feel any worse than he already did.

  “Charity, wait. I didn’t mean it the way it came out,” he said, following her as she tossed the apron on a chair and headed outside with her coat and purse clutched against her body like a shield.

  She moved pretty fast but he had her blocked in.

  He caught up to her at her car. “Wait, damn it. I’m sorry.”

  “I want to go.”

  He heard the tears in her voice and gently, he tipped her chin up so he could see into her face. A face so familiar to him he wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t part of his life.

  “I didn’t mean for that to come out that way. I was on my way to your house when I saw your car here. I’m sorry.” Not able to do anything else, he brushed his mouth over the curve of her bottom lip. “Don’t look that way, baby. I didn’t mean to make you sad. Will you let me take you to dinner? To make up for it?”

  She nodded and he pulled her close, happy when she hugged him back.

  At the little Thai place near the campus, she sat across from him at a rickety table and he was suddenly aware of just how many people stared at her. She didn’t have a lot of makeup on and she wore a pair of jeans and a black sweater but still, something about her drew a man’s eye.

  “You were really on your way to my house or did you just say that because you thought I might cry?” she asked, using chopsticks like a pro while he’d already given up and began using his fork.

  “I really was on my way to your house. I hadn’t seen you all day. I thought I’d see if you wanted to grab some dinner. I hadn’t expected to see you kneading bread in my mom’s kitchen. It just took me by surprise.”

  “A bad surprise?”

  No, a good one. He’d liked how she looked there, her face lit with laughter as she’d worked next to his two favorite women in the world.

  “No. Why would you say that? I was on my way to see you, why would seeing you be a bad thing?”

  “Okay, okay. You’re just so touchy! I didn’t know. I don’t want to eat anymore. I want to have sex.” She turned those green eyes his way and he felt it straight to his toes.

  He nearly choked to death on his pad thai as she calmly asked for, and received, boxes for their food and packed it away.

  He managed to pay and not get into an accident on the way back to her place and thankfully, she stayed over on her side of the truck so he could halfway think.

  “I liked seeing you in my mom’s kitchen tonight, your hands in the bread, a bit of your hair had escaped the ponytail and you blew it out of your face. You even had a spot of flour on your cheek. All in all, pretty damned hot.” It wasn’t candlelight and romance but she deserved to know part of what she did to him.

  He pulled into a parking spot and she scooted over, sliding into his lap to face him. “You know, I can be so mad at you one minute and then you make me all melty the next.”

  “I’m about to make you a lot more melty,” he said in a low growl. “Let’s go.”

  “Do you really want to? You know, you’re not the only one who has a bit of kink in his laces.” She leaned back a bit and ran her hands up her torso, over her breasts, giving in to a little sigh of satisfaction as she touched her nipples. All he heard was his struggle for breath and the white noise of what was most likely an impending stroke.

  “Oh yeah? What else have you got then?” he asked her, watching her every move.

  She pulled her sweater up and off, facing him, those luscious breasts barely covered by a lacy bra.

  “Show me your breasts. Touch your nipples for me.” Hell, his voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears.

  He heard her swallow, but then she obeyed, leaning into him to reach around and unhook her bra, sliding it down her arms, her breasts jiggling a bit with the movement. She wet her fingers, her eyes locked on his, and played her thumb and forefinger against her nipples, churning her hips over his cock.

  The scent of her body filled the cab of the truck.

  “I wish you had a skirt on. I’d have you finger yourself right here in the open. But since you don’t, pull your sweater back on so I can get you inside. Then we’ll continue this.”

  She moved, slow and graceful, to get her sweater on. Once that was done, he simply grabbed her about the waist and hauled her from the truck with him and headed to her front door.

  She stood, waiting for him to lead her and it nearly felled him.

  “Get naked for me.” He moved to sit on her couch, turning on the lamp and watching her expose every beautiful inch of her skin. When she was done, she released her hair from the ponytail and he shivered at the sight of it falling around her shoulders.

  He leaned back. “Come here, sit on my lap.”

  She knew what he wanted, sat on him, spreading her thighs outside his, her breasts just inches from his mouth. He caressed up her thighs, into the curve of her waist, took the weight of her b
reasts, thumbing over her nipples until she made soft sounds at the back of her throat.

  “I love the way your pussy smells. Almost as good as it tastes.” He circled her clit with his middle finger and then traced over her lips before kissing her.

  “Every time I even think of you, you make me wet,” she whispered against his mouth as he moved from the kiss.

  “Christ,” he hissed. The mixture of her, of Charity, sweet but with this naughty side got to him, dug under his skin. “Touch your pussy. Make yourself come for me.”

  He couldn’t look away from the descent of one hand down her belly. He sucked in air as she spread herself open enough to play against her clit with her middle finger.

  Her breath caught at the bolt of pleasure.

  “L-like this? Shall I stop?” His eyes on her, the way he looked at her like she was the best thing he’d ever clapped eyes on, fired some inner strength. She felt like a goddess up there on his lap. Sexy. Powerful.

  “Yes, just like that. And don’t stop unless you want to kill me. Make yourself come. And then we’re going up to your bedroom.” He laced his fingers behind his head and relaxed back against the pillows, just watching.

  She tugged on her nipple and brushed the pad of her middle finger from side to side over her clit, her hips moving as orgasm stole toward her, blurring the edges of the world outside the space she and Gabriel inhabited.

  His body was warm beneath her, the sound of his breath as he watched her echoed against her own. It wasn’t like she’d never masturbated before, but in front of someone took a level of trust she never could quite work up. But she’d done it with him without even thinking. Even the week before after he’d brought her home from the bar.

  Her head tipped back right as she began to come and the world exploded around her as he held her throat with one big hand. Not suffocatingly, not rough, but enough pressure to collar her that way. Never in her life had she felt anything like it. Trust that he wouldn’t hurt her, excitement that he’d hold her that way. Her entire system lit up as she moaned.

  Slowly, he relaxed his grip and shifted to put his arms around her, hugging her tight. She fell forward against him, breathing hard, wondering that he’d found yet another way to push all her buttons.