Pearl on Cherry

by Chanse Lowell

  It was the small moments like this that meant the most to her—when he was vulnerable and telling her how much he needed her.

  “Get in my bed. Naked though,” he said, ripping his shirt and trousers off with a few forceful tugs on his clothing.

  She watched him as she shrugged out of her nightgown.

  “The panties, too—though, I love that you wore them to bed, rather than those ridiculous large knickers.” He patted the bed, expecting her to climb in.

  “William. May I show you something first?” Her shoulders crept up on her. Could she do this? She wanted to. She’d wanted to talk to him about this for a while.

  “Certainly. I’m not really tired anymore after touching you in the hallway. And do not think we’re discussing Pauline being in your bed.” He offered a small smile.

  “I need some source of light for you to see this.”

  His brows rose. He pointed to his personal washroom. There was good electric lighting in there, something she frequently forgot.

  All these electric amenities continually shocked her—especially the warm water. That still made her gasp with delight.

  “We talked over the last few days about how you hide, and how I want to be sought after. Well, I was thinking after the last time I put my mouth on you”—he straightened at the mention of her oral attentions on his cock—“that you’re most beautiful when you’re out in the open. I want you to see what I do.”

  “Sucking on me and my tip taught you something—gave you clarity?”

  She nodded, smiled and then slanted her head to the right as she stared at his bobbing length.

  “Can you sit on the toilet for a moment?” she asked.

  He moved to where she asked, plopped down on it and set his palms on his knees.

  “This will only take a moment, but I think it will help.” She grabbed her big fluffy towel hanging on the hook, folded it and set it on the ground. She kneeled on top of it and got as close to him as she could. She grabbed him at the root, then slowly pumped him a few times.

  “God, that feels good, Clary. Keep going. Only faster—could you, sweetheart?”

  “No. That would defeat the purpose of what I want you to see.” She dragged his foreskin up to the tip, covering his pink, swollen head, then kept her hand there, keeping it tight and stretched. “See this right here?” She ran a fingertip along the trace of light bluish veins. “That’s your life’s blood under there. It feeds you—makes you rigid so you can seek me out, get inside me and tunnel a way into my life.”

  His breath caught. “Fuck.”

  “It’s beautiful.” She let the foreskin draw back down and bunched it back to the base. “I love watching how the skin almost changes color as it moves, and I imagined that happening inside me. When it’s slick”—she dribbled some of her saliva over his hard shaft to prove her point—“then it’s even easier to see I’ll bet.” She gasped when she tugged the foreskin back up and over the tip. “My. God. A work of art.”

  His legs jerked, and his hips jutted up. He stroked her hands as she tenderly moved the skin up and down, watching the movement. “Love—I’ll be spilling soon if you keep this up.”

  “That’s acceptable.” She pulled one hand free, then traced another vein that was now prominent and straining as he thickened further. A moment later, she bent her head down and drew a line across it with her tongue. “Just listen to me for one more minute.”

  She ran her fingertip along the tip of him, over his slit as she pulled his foreskin back down. “This act is like you. See how sensitive and sweet you are under this fold of skin. When I reveal what is hidden, it’s absolutely breathtaking. I love seeing you revealed this way, and I get almost jealous knowing it’s inside me, coming out to play, and I can’t see it. That idea almost drives me to madness.” She smiled, and her eyes twinkled with mischief. “It’s the same with you, sweetheart.”

  He edged his ass closer to her. She bent over once more and licked the tip, then blew across the wetness.

  His hips jerked up, and she smiled.

  “I want to know you—all of you. Even the small, hidden bits no one else gets to see. Every little piece you share makes my heart very nearly explode with so much love I can barely contain it. You are fresh, beautiful and stirring, just like this.” She tickled the end of his cock, plucking at it softly with all the fingertips of her left hand, spreading out around him until his end hit her palm, then she’d drag her fingertips up and off, like she was grasping at something off the floor with all her fingers at once.

  He gasped, so she did it again.

  “Keep going, oh keep it . . . Keep touching me. I won’t hide anything from you, only keep touching me. And suck me.” He set his chin to his chest as if to give himself some kind of support. Would he fall off the toilet seat at the slightest provocation or pressure otherwise?

  He was so loose, completely at her command.

  “I will do anything that pleases you. Do you see why you have nothing to fear from me? Why you can share everything, and I will not turn on you?”

  “But you do not know . . .” he whimpered, his eyes watering. “I cannot risk losing you. It’s a gamble I daren’t take.”

  “But do you risk losing me if you keep it to yourself? Is that a risk you can take? Have I shunned you thus far when you’ve shared yourself with me? The dark, naughty things we do included?” She bent over, ran her teeth along the edge of his cock, and he exhaled with a shaky moan.

  “Fuck . . . I . . . Clary, please. Suck it. Take it as deep as you can,” he begged. He appeared shaky and barely in control of himself.

  “Will you ponder what I’ve shared with you?” She let her saliva dribble from her lips again and used it to lubricate her hand, pumping him a little more eagerly.

  “I will.” He nodded, bit his bottom lip for a second and grunted as he thrust harder into her hand.

  She made this soft mewling sound and then her mouth wrapped around him.

  Lush.

  Heat.

  Pooling water in her mouth over the taste of him.

  God.

  His fingers fisted in her hair at the roots, and he pushed and pulled her where he desired her to be, nudging his way as far as he could. The more demanding he was, the more her heart thundered in her chest and her need to please him grew.

  “Open like you’re singing. Take me wide and deep, please—fuck, you have to.” He moaned when she did what he asked.

  He pushed the back of his shoulders against the wall. Was it for leverage? It seemed to help him fuck his way deeper into her mouth, pushing past her velvet tongue.

  She made an unintelligible sound, but all he did now was groan. “Oh God—swallow it this time. I want it down your throat.”

  With unbelievable suction, more than she thought she could summon, she took him in a little deeper. She gripped his thighs. A second later and he was shooting his come down her throat, falling apart and there were tears in his eyes again.

  He pulled her up into his lap, hugged her to his chest and breathed raggedly.

  “Just love me no matter what. Promise me that, Clarissa.”

  “Silly man—I did that the moment I first decided to be yours.”

  He curled around her, making these high-pitched sounds with each quick uptake of air.

  His body rocked hers as the final remnants of his come leaked out of him.

  “Can I take you to bed now?” he asked.

  “Yes, you may. Did you see why I can’t look away from you? And that was just your body.” She gripped his chin with one hand and ran her other palm across his sweat-misted chest. “You are even more stunning inside here.” She patted over his heart, then kissed him.

  “Mmm . . .” He swallowed—a tight, emotional sound drifting out of him made her heart thump yet even stronger. He kissed her harder and stood up with her in his arms.

  He took her to the bed, climbed in and didn’t stop kissing and holding her until she was too groggy to reciprocate.


  And even then—he sort of kept going . . .

  This was what made sleeping with him a cloud of love and lust.

  * * *

  “Good morning, sir,” came Clarissa’s sweet voice, followed by her fingertips running through his hair and across his forehead.

  He purred, though his body ached from pounding Tyrone the way he did last night.

  “I have a problem,” she said, her voice breaking.

  “What is it?” He bolted up to sitting. “Did I harm you last night?”

  “No.” She chuckled. “You only thrust in my mouth. I can take that.”

  “Good. I intend to do it often then.” He wiggled his way back into the covers and hummed in contentment.

  “Can I share my issue with you now?”

  “Please do.” He grabbed her arm and yanked her down so she’d lie next to him, only she was dressed. After a deep frown from him, she stroked his hair again.

  “Pauline’s in trouble.”

  “With what? Did she compromise one of my expensive shirts?” He rolled his eyes. Who cared if she burned the rest of the house down, as long as Clarissa stayed with him.

  “No, it’s of graver importance than your clothing.” She swallowed, and her throat bobbed with the action. “There’s this troublesome man of sorts. Well, he’s . . . You see, he’s upsetting to her.”

  “Go on.” He reached out and stroked her arm.

  “He’s got this temper, according to her, and he’s got a menacing way about him. She’s seen him a few times when she’s gone out to fetch your paper. And this man, he tries to engage her and be quarrelsome. He thinks she’s his property somehow, and yesterday while we were at that party, he came here—to your house.”

  “Did she answer the door?”

  “No.” Her eyes moved down to his chest. “No one did. The household ignored him.”

  “Then there is no problem. I’ll have someone else gather my morning paper. She can stay indoors.” He paused. “Is that all?”

  “Not quite.” She lifted her eyes once more, peering into his. “She has to be outside to hang out the washed clothing, so I go with her.”

  He choked on this rush of heat that slit up his throat. “Out of the question!” He gripped her arm. “If this man is as terrible as you say, I do not want you outside at all. Not even to garden. I’ll find some other gainful employ for you inside the walls of my home. Or better yet—you’ll travel with me everywhere I go. I have a need of you throughout the day.”

  “Willll,” she groaned his name. “Be serious. I cannot tail along everywhere. That would slow your progress down, and you’re a busy, important man.” She straightened her frown. “We can have Davis or one of the other male staff watch over us. We are in the back of the house on the grounds hidden behind the house. This man won’t have sight or access to us—I only needed you to choose one of your men to accompany us.”

  “No.”

  “Might I inquire why your answer is so solid and such a resounding no?” She pressed her lips together.

  “You may, but I refuse to answer. There’s no discussion when it comes to your safety.” He pushed up to sitting, rubbed his eyes to wake up a little more and stretched his legs out over the side of the bed.

  “Pity. Oh well. I shall tell her she is no longer welcome here since her safety is of no importance, and I suppose that means I’ll be moving out with her.” She sniffed.

  “Come now, Cherry. You know I care. I took her in, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, but . . . B-but, she needs your help. I already went in search of him, bu—”

  “You what?” He leaped to standing and paced before her. “I cannot abide this. Do you hear me? Seeking out danger? What were you thinking? This is unacceptable. Now I am determined you will be at my side all the day long, and I shall hire her a bodyguard if I must to keep you.” He gripped the back of his neck, his brow lined while he seemed deep in thought. “How reckless of you! I cannot stand the thought of you doing that.”

  He snatched at her, ripped her off the bed and up into his arms. It was overwhelming the way his solid, chiseled body molded into her, and how she sank into him so readily. He took several deep whiffs of her hair, fingered through her curls and made this disgruntled whimpering sound.

  “I believe she said this man ripped her stockings twice, and one time he even—”

  “Enough,” he said, strangled and hoarse. “If he did that to her—a common street-walker—what might he have done to you?” He shook his head, crushing her ever tighter to his bones. “You are to be with me all day—no matter what I do, no matter how boring or distasteful my work might be to you.”

  She clutched him back. “If this is what it takes for you to secure her safety, then, yes, I will go with you wherever you require.” A smile spread over her face.

  “Good girl.” He gave her behind a little swat, then went about dressing and readying for his day.

  They ate breakfast together, with her sitting on his lap and him feeding her.

  His heart swelled as he read to her from the paper and she listened attentively, adding intelligent view points along the way.

  Out of nowhere, she turned to face him and wore a grave expression. “I have something to ask you.”

  He nodded and swallowed his bit of toast in his mouth.

  “Why did you choose to play Tchaikovsky’s violin concerto in D major?” She wiggled on his lap.

  “It’s one of my favorites, and I thought you would hear what it means to me.” He set his paper down and tapped it, while crooking his head at her. “Why?”

  “Did you hear my conversation I was having with Mr. Willis and Power?”

  “Parts of it, yes.” He cleared his throat, and his Adam’s apple moved.

  She threw her eyes at the floor. “Then I suppose you already know my secret. I was going to tell you anyway since I’ve been badgering you to share yours.”

  “Badgering is hardly what you do—but proceed.”

  “I can read and write, but not well. It’s slow and almost a painful affair.” She dropped her head, and her shoulders followed that path, rolling forward. “The only skill I have of value is to sing and dance. I had to memorize that script Tyrone gave me because I would be mortified if I’d been required to read it on stage.” Bile tickled up the back of his throat as he watched her shame spill out of her. Why did she think this worth beating herself up over? She kept going, naming more of her faults. “What can I honestly offer you, William? I’m a fraud. I am not a cultured, civilized lady. I saw at Tyrone’s party that the rest of the ladies carried themselves differently, and it didn’t have to do completely with them being in a corset and me being without.” She released a tight burst of air and clawed at his chest. “You deserve a grand woman—accomplished, ready to mother your future children and guide your household in all things.” Her eyes twitched with moisture gathering, and the right edge of her jaw ticked. Was the muscle there trying to pull down into a frown? He’d be damned if she was going to feel badly about this.

  “You do all those things and more. Do you think I want a mere puppet, enacting the frivolous laws that govern my class? I care as much about rules of propriety as you care about my need to occasionally whip, spank and fuck you.” His eyes rolled back in his head, and he emitted this grinding sound out of his chest. “Fuck—do you not see none of that matters to me? It’s you—you are what keeps my heart vital and beating.”

  “You may feel that way now, but later . . .” She pushed on his chest to get up, but he dragged her in tighter.

  “No. Don’t fight me. I have a lesson for you.” He ran his lips across her cheek and fluttered them at her temples, whispering in her ear. “You showed me what my cock and I have in common. Now, allow me to submit you to a similar lesson. You want to be sought after, yes? But how much more exciting would that be if you could not rely on your faulty vision, since things are not always as they appear?”

  He unfastened his cravat, turned her around and blindfold
ed her with it.

  “But, sir . . .” She squawked, teetering on the edge of his lap.

  “Quiet. You will submit to my guidance today. You will lack any notion of what anyone thinks of you based on the way they look at you. You’ll require my assistance and judgment on all you do. I want you to feel what it was like for me when you presented the idea of putting yourself in harm’s way and potentially taking yourself away from me. I’d be worse than blinded—I’d be maimed. My heart would be pricked into inward bloodletting, and I would cease to exist.” He cinched it tight.

  Blood pounded in his ears when her breath hitched.

  “William.” He pushed her up to standing, prodded her a little, and right away, she tripped over a foreign object and reached for him. She sucked in a breath and said, “This is . . . I do not like this.”

  “Precisely. Now you are comprehending a small portion of how distraught I was over your recklessness.” He gripped her hips from behind and propelled her forward once more.

  “Please . . . William, might I at least have the use of your cane?”

  “I will consider it. If you find a way to obey me without too much fuss, then perhaps.” She felt him shrug behind her.

  “Please, keep me from falling?”

  “That is my highest priority. From the moment I’m lucid, it’s all I aim for—to keep you protected.”

  “I see,” she said. She giggled.

  Clearly the irony of her words tickled her.

  He laughed with a good-natured, whole-hearted chuckle. “Yes, I daresay you are definitely on your way. You’re seeing the world clearer now that you’re blinded.”

  He draped her hand over his arm, took her through the house and out to the back.

  “How about we sojourn in the carriage so you can truly enjoy the jostling experience of being without sight—hmm?” He picked her up and assisted her into the carriage.

  Her hand smacked into the walls more than once, her head bumped the ceiling and she lost her footing when she tried to sit.

  “If you’d be patient, you infernal woman, I’d help you. Give me a moment,” he said as he pulled her toward him and onto his lap.