Pearl on Cherry

by Chanse Lowell

  “You have finally accepted my dark possession of you—do you see now why I must have you as my wife? As my very own? No one else can allow me to be this free. Only you, Cherry girl. Only you take me inside and gift me with this—with this stunning, rare beauty of yours. You are my pearl—the unique treasure I’ve unearthed.” His left hand tightened its hold on her hips, and his voice went up in pitch as his breathing went erratic and louder. “Fuck! I . . . I may not be able to wait until you finish. Please—God, do you love me?”

  “I do, William. More than ever.”

  “Marry me?”

  “Yesssss . . . I will take your hand,” she replied, her voice breaking. “I love this, too. All of it!” Her neck tipped back as she gulped in some much needed air. With her heart pounding this way, it made it more difficult to breathe.

  “Thank you! You honor me! I will do everything in my power to keep you in a state of bliss.” He grunted, and his cock shoved even deeper inside her.

  Out of nowhere, he pulled out, then pumped himself in his hand furiously, but only near the tip of his length. He spurted all over her asshole he’d just been in. “Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhhh,” he gasped through each release of semen.

  Her rectum burned and ached for him—screaming at her that it was not done receiving his rhythmic pulsing inside her.

  All she could do was whimper as she watched him with her eyes wide and her mouth agape.

  The fingers from his other hand were off her and playing in the syrupy mess he coated her entrance with. His fingers dipped his come inside her anus, then he pushed his cock back in, slicker than he had been moments before.

  He sighed like it was a blessed relief to be back inside her—as if it had been torture to pull out.

  “Now I will give you the same feeling, only more intensified, because it is in your rear-end—the place you should not feel pleasure but inherently do—because you are mine.” He sped his movements up, then he was bent over again, teasing her clit, pinching and rolling it with such force, the intensity was brutal and overwhelming and oh my God, she was convulsing. She shook from head to toe, clawing at his thighs, gripping them as this wave of consuming flame rolled over her, starting in her ass and then exploding outward—reducing her into nothing but caterwauling moans.

  “My God—you end all sanity for me,” he whispered behind her. “I have never seen anything more exquisite than you in this moment—my lovely one.”

  Why did he sound in awe when she’d just been turned inside out?

  “That was . . . What did you do to me?” she groaned, her entire body so limp and yet still coursing with this powerful momentous surge of electricity in her veins, she wondered how she’d ever get up and walk out of this room.

  “Only what you deserved—because you, my sweetheart, can take all that I am and more. You are the origin of a heart for this man, standing behind you, caught up in complete and total worship of you. It is my mission to make you sound and look like that every damn day this body holds a breath in it.” His hands kneaded into her muscles and caressed them back to life. “You are beautiful, and you looked marvelous in the underthings I created. Simply sublime. I will dress you in them, the underclothes of my choosing and vivid imagination. Hmmm. It will make my days filled with nothing but distracting lewd images of removing them from your delectable body.” He hummed and ran the tip of his nose up her spine.

  She broke out in gooseflesh as his breath washed over her.

  He kissed her all over the nape of her neck, along her arms and her lower back.

  His attentiveness made her heart pound when all it needed at this point was to rest and recuperate—more so than her ass’s overworked muscles.

  “William—if you do that to me—or anything close to that—I may wind up half-dead before I make it to any altar with you.”

  He chuckled. “Goals are a part of my success—let me see if I can accommodate you on that one.”

  “Ambitious bastard.” She grinned and sighed.

  “Foul temptress. You block my vision of anything but you.”

  Knock, knock, knock.

  “Are you in need of assistance?” a female voice called through the door.

  Clarissa burst out laughing, and she sounded completely tipsy. “Yes—by all means—I am in constant need of help to keep away from this man. He destroys all the good sense I previously claimed to possess.”

  He smacked her ass and then bit her ear. “Tell them more than that, and I shall lash you to my tree out back and show you what the tip of my whip feels like on a cool and forbidding night.”

  “More promises? Are you certain you can deliver?” She pushed herself up, twisted at the waist and kissed his nose.

  “I can promise more than that, little devil woman.” He bent down and released her legs from the desk.

  “I better eat then, so I can regain the needed fortitude to withstand your sensual onslaughts. I am not accustomed to being attacked at random by a salacious, worldly man such as yourself.”

  “Ma’am?” This time it was clear the voice belonged to Pauline.

  “Answer her—will you, darling? I must go oil my whip for you, since it is clear you intend to slander my good name.” He dragged his fingertips across her lower back as he moved away from her and gathered his clothes.

  His smirk was wreaking havoc on her throbbing puss.

  “You, sir, are the one that deserves a good sound walloping.”

  He coughed a laugh. “Too true, but not as much as you.”

  “Pauline, I’d love a bath. Can you prepare it for me?” she called out.

  “How utterly tame of you,” Pauline said, then they heard her footsteps retreat.

  “Did she expect something more spectacular than this?” Clarissa turned to him, handing him her dress so he could help her get it back on without the corset.

  “I suppose after being subjected to me in my garden before, she expected the door to at least have been left open as I consumed you like a ripe piece of fleshy, sweet fruit.” He pinched her bottom.

  She yelped and jumped.

  “Dress me, sir, or I may decline your offer of a future coupling.”

  “You will do no such thing—that would be far more injurious than any—”

  She pressed her clothing into his hands. “Right this instant, William. I refuse to parade through your halls undressed.”

  “Refuse, huh?” He dropped his head—grinned wider than ever. “We shall see . . .”

  “Oh good God, the atrocities I’ll endure all because I was silly enough to fall in love with you.” She slapped her hands on his chest, then left them there.

  “And be my wife—do not leave that part out. You agreed to it.” His head lifted, and he met her eyes.

  He looked like a sweet, adorable little boy, vying for her attention.

  “Yes, William—I do not forget when I make such grand promises. I will be your wife.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. “Good. You will not regret it.”

  “But you might when you discover I am not the pearl you think me to be, but just the cherry girl that moved to Pearl Street.”

  He sighed. “No more fussing. Go take a bath—I will see to you in a little bit to make sure your muscles uncoil and find sweet repose.”

  “I have no doubt you will, because, you, sir, are a truly beautiful, caring man. I am insatiable for your affections.”

  He slanted his head, studying her, then straightened and put her clothes back on her with ease. “Obviously, you are unaware of what insatiable means, otherwise I would not be dressing you.” He grinned.

  “I know what it means, but I also have discovered that pacing is part of that sum to make the money go further.”

  “You are truly a banker in a woman’s body.”

  She sighed. “No. Just a pragmatist with a wicked imagination that involves one dashing man that sweeps me away.”

  “A poet, too? I am beyond blessed.”

  She sang, making up lyrics as she left
the room with a casual wave and a wink.

  Let him decide for himself who was more insatiable after nightfall.

  Chapter 14

  Clarissa was still in the bath, luxuriating in the satiny bubbles.

  In two days this had somehow become her new favorite spot to rusticate.

  He sighed and watched her as life spread back through his limbs and clawed at his length.

  “There is nothing I would not do to have you again. How long must you soak?” he asked, his voice whiny in pitch.

  “As long as need be to truly get you on your knees and begging,” she said, smirking, washing her breasts, or at least playing with them to edge him further toward madness.

  “I am already on my knees.” He dropped to them at the side of the tub and pulled out of his vest pocket the ring he was dying to gift her with. “This is yours. It belongs to you. I found it somewhere along the way with my heart. You must wear it so I will not lose either again.”

  She gripped the edge of the tub. “This is for me? Are you honestly proposing marriage now while I am nude and wet?”

  He nodded, beaming at her. “There is no other way this would be appropriate, since this is how you will most likely spend the majority of our marriage, only with more restraints involved, and my come spread out over you.”

  “Ask me then. Make it official, and I shall give you a reply.”

  “That sounds so tawdry, my lovely cherry,” he teased. “Official makes this sound like a boring bank transaction.”

  “I do not care how it sounds. I require it be done at least semi-properly even if I am indecent.” She splashed him with a playful glint in her eyes.

  He laughed, took her hand and shoved the ring on. “It fits. That is all the answer I require. There now—you are mine. Discussion ended.”

  He stood.

  She gripped the edge of the tub and slid her body toward him. “That is it? That is all I am to expect in the way of romance as you ask me to spend the rest of my life with you?

  She fluttered her finger before her face, examining the ring. It was a large pink pearl with flashing diamonds surrounding it.

  “This is . . . I have never seen its likeness. Are these diamonds?” she chirped at the end.

  “They are. A dozen of them, to surround it the way my heart surrounds you.”

  “Careful—that sounded a might bit romantic.” She kissed the pearl on her finger.

  “It is not romance—it is nothing but mere statement of fact.” He loomed over his with his pants bulging. “And this transaction does not seem complete until you kiss me. Seal it with your lips, Cherry girl.”

  She leaned forward, and instead of standing up to kiss his mouth, she ran her tongue up his length and nipped at his straining cock through the fabric, creating wet splotches all over him.

  Her mouth opened and she kissed him repeatedly on the groin with this appreciative moaning sound wafting in the air.

  “God, woman—the world cannot possibly go on until I fuck you again.”

  She lifted her eyes to him, grinned and then undid his pants, fishing his cock out.

  “That is a beautiful organ. It is mine if I say yes to being your wife, isn’t it?”

  “If? You’ve already accepted. There is no going back now. I’ve filled your anus with my cream last night. Twice.” His chest warmed as he thought about all that had transpired between them mere hours ago. The first time he took her from behind on his desk while her friends were in the parlor, he’d let her take a quick bath and then he dragged her to his dark room and did it again.

  He was ready for a third try. After all, he’d left her alone all day long, even let her do some gardening today so she’d feel productive.

  “If your back is ailing from bending over in the garden, I will massage it first, but after that, I get to enjoy you.”

  “There you are again—nothing but romance.” She stood up, tucked him back away and as she dripped and stared at him, he could no longer stand it.

  He grabbed her fluffy white towel, wrapped it around her and then pulled her up in his arms. Next, he brought her into her room and put her boots on her.

  She remained silent, observing him as he worked at a feverish pace.

  In no time at all, his long strides pushed them through the house as he held her.

  “But, Will—the servants will see me like this!” She tossed her head about, like prey searching for signs of danger.

  “I already told them all to leave for the evening. Once you were naked and in the water, they could not be near.”

  His boots echoed through the hall but then fell silent once his steps were being muffled by the grass of the backyard.

  “But I am still undressed,” she said, wiggling in his arms.

  “Yes, I failed to bring you and the girls shopping today, but it was done with this purpose in mind. Less clothes for you means more opportunity to have your skin on my tongue.”

  She was exposed a moment later when he yanked the towel off her.

  With a tight gasp, she gripped onto his arms.

  But it didn’t matter.

  He set her down, wrapped the towel around the trunk of the tree, then pushed her up against it. Just having her here in this spot made his chest tighten, and he fought off chills. His breath caught in his throat, and his stones pulled tight. Good God, this was more than exciting—it was his life’s breath.

  “I will start like this—more civilized until you grow accustomed to what I really want from you.” His jaw flexed, and so did his cock.

  “What can you possibly mean?” Her head followed him as he paced before her. She splayed her fingers out on the towel, gripping it as if it would save her. Or as if the trunk of the tree would cocoon her.

  “You are not safe. Not here. In this place, it is wild and savage—like me. So, I give you five minutes to run and hide with nothing but your wits. This towel remains here. If you can avoid me and my grasp, then you may decide if we go back inside and play in the dark room instead.”

  “But, it is freezing out here,” she said, shivering.

  “Running will warm you, as will I when I enslave you and make you my slut of the garden.” He pointed. “Go. I will turn around, and you have one chance to try and evade me.”

  He closed his eyes, and immediately she was running away.

  His heart rate spiked so drastically, the beat of it was thrumming in his nostrils.

  “I will give you to the count of ten,” he called out.

  There was a rustling sound to his right and then he ticked the numbers off out loud.

  When the number ten sprang off his tongue, his eyes opened. He expected to find her silvery flesh gleaming in the moonlight like a beacon in the dark.

  But nothing stood out to him.

  Even the towel was gone.

  “Cheating does not become you, my little wild one. The towel was to remain where it was.” He rubbed his hands together, then prowled out into the garden. “And you were to be one with nature in all your glory and magnificence. Now I will need to punish you for breaking the rules.” He chuckled with a darkness that drifted out of him in such a satisfying way, that tremors of heat slipped up his legs, powering them and carrying him with this confidence that was double his natural ego.

  “It will not be good for you, but I shall savor every moment I whip you and turn your white flesh into stripes of red. My own candy cane to lick, up against my favored tree.”

  There was a twig snapping, and a small sigh to his left, so he jerked in that direction.

  But once he was near the sound, there was nothing there.

  He circled the garden twice with measured, cautious steps.

  My Lord, she was amazing at concealing herself.

  She had to be frozen by now, though, so in time, she’d come to him.

  He made his way back to the tree and secured some of his ropes to the branches. She’d look stunning held fast as he whipped her into a frenzy of lust.

  Once he had v
arious ropes ready for his use, he stood back and appraised it.

  But something was off.

  He stepped back further, but he was still missing something.

  It was not until he was almost up against the house many feet away that he saw it.

  Cherry girl was behind a bush, had surrounded herself in the towel and had wrapped that in foliage so she was camouflaged completely by leaves. The white background of the tufts of snow blended in with her towel.

  It was only her curly hair that finally gave her away because the leaves were tear-drop shaped, not round or spiraled.

  In the darkness, it blended in when he was close up, but not from a distance—he could see its unnatural shape in the canopy.

  “Clever girl,” he muttered, then marched over to the tree, pulled out his whip and lashed it at the bush, breaking twigs and small branches. Leaves rained down around her, and she stirred to life.

  His creature was laughing, squawking and trying to get away once more.

  “You are caught, my love. Come here now and your consequences will be less severe.” He grinned as she pushed herself up to standing and wrapped the towel around her tighter.

  “Punishment is such an ugly word.” She pulled a twig out of her hair.

  “So is disobedience.” He chuckled.

  She sighed, paused and then flung the towel at him. “Here. I suppose you will find some evil use of this thing since I will clearly not be allowed to have it again to cushion me against the scratchy bark of this tree.”

  She stood before him, legs shoulder width apart as if awaiting a soldier’s commands.

  “Does it frighten you to think of my whip coming at you?”

  “No. It frightens me you want to punish me when we were supposed to be having fun. This is not a good incentive.” She blinked and searched his face. “How did I offend you? You created a game with a few rules, but I was left nothing to defend myself with, so I had no choice but to break the rules. You set me up for failure. Is that not unjust?”

  He rubbed noses with her and smirked. “Your intellect is truly spectacular.” He kissed her cheeks. “You are right. I wanted an excuse to use my whip on you.”

  “All you need to do is explain to me how it works, how it might feel and then ask me.”