Charisma

by Wendy Stone

  “You are not a freak of nature,” he said, a definite ring to his voice. “If you continue to call yourself things like that, I’m going to take my hand to your backside and knock those thoughts out of your head. Got me?”

  Charisma stared at him in shock for a moment before she began to laugh. He looked back in confusion before laughing too.

  “I guess you told me,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around him. “Does that mean if I step out of line, you’re going to strip me naked and force me across your lap? So you can spank my bottom?” Mischief gleamed in her eyes.

  Just the thought of her naked, across his lap, his to do with as he pleased had Kadian hard as steel, aching to take her. “We need a cab,” he said suddenly, almost pulling her off her feet as he headed toward the busy intersection.

  A piercing whistle shook her ears and she looked up at him as a cab shot to the curb, stopping at their feet. He winked at her, opening the door and pushing her inside. He gave his address to the cabbie before yanking her back in his arms, kissing her until her head spun and her lips felt swollen and hypersensitive.

  He was still kissing her, his hands roaming over her back when the doorman at his building opened the door of the cab for them. “Mr. James?”

  “Oh, hi, Felix. Do me a favor and pay the man will you? I seem to have lost my wallet somewhere.”

  “Certainly sir,” he said, his eyes roaming over Charisma’s face as Kadian pulled her out behind him, hustling the red-cheeked girl into the elevator and to his penthouse suite.

  The elevator was theirs for the entire trip and Kadian made use of it, crowding her into a corner and caressing her, his lips busy upon hers. When the doors opened and they faced the locked front door of the penthouse, Kadian groaned.

  “No keys?” she asked him softly.

  “Shit!” he growled, whirling around and staring at her.

  Charisma began to laugh again. “I guess I really do go to your head,” she said. Grabbing hold of the collar of his shirt, she yanked him down, finding his mouth with hers. “Mm,” she hummed in appreciation. “Can’t you break it down?”

  “Yeah, I could but, that door was expensive. It’s specially designed to keep out people I don’t want to let in.” He went over to it, still holding her hand. With a growl of frustration, he slammed his palm against the buzzer. “I guess we go back down so I can use the phone to call Artie. He’s got my spare set of keys.”

  Charisma spun him around, pushing him against the wall. “Is that a bad thing?” she asked, her lips against his throat, her hands on the buttons of his shirt.

  “No, I mean, yes. It is. He’ll want to harass me about concert dates and deadlines if I do that. We’ll never get rid of him.” He moaned as her mouth closed over his nipple, flicking it with her little tongue. His shirt hung open and her hands explored his flesh, gliding over ridges of muscle and past his navel where the skin was just a bit softer.

  His head dropped back against the wall and he fisted his fingers in the material of her shirt, groaning even more as she dropped to her knees before him, her tongue slipping into his navel. She pulled free the button on his jeans, her teeth grabbing the zipper and slowly pulling it down.

  “What are you doing to me?” he growled, his hands pulling at the tee shirt she wore, tearing it over her head. He could feel the tips of her breasts as they rubbed against his thighs, the softness of her hands as she caressed his hard cock and the heat of her mouth as she slipped it over the tip of his shaft.

  The sound that emerged from his mouth was that of a dying man, one who was dying of thirst, only to feel the first drops of a summer rain upon his face. Closing his eyes, he grabbed a handful of her red curls, working hard not to drag her mouth over him and push his cock down the sweet, wet heat of her throat.

  His hips were jerking, pressing back against the buzzer with every sweet bob of her head. His eyes opened, staring down at her, delighted in her ease with his body and the way giving him pleasure seemed to be enjoyable for her as well. The head of his cock touched the back wall of her throat and he felt her sucking hard.

  “Gods, Charisma,” he groaned, his voice growing thick as his dragon fought to be free. No woman had ever made him feel like this, ever. He was putty in her hands.

  “God damn it to hell!!” Artie’s voice sounded next to his ear as the apartment door was thrown open. “Who the fuck is it?”

  Charisma fell back, her hands automatically coming up to cover her naked breasts. Kadian snarled, his fangs showing literally as he turned on Artie. They stood there staring at each other for a second before the manager grabbed Kadian by the shoulders, hugging him quickly. “Good God, boy, I thought you were dead.”

  Kadian reach down, managing to push himself back into his pants and then helped Charisma to her feet, handing her the torn tee shirt and blocking Artie’s view of her beauty. “What are you doing here, Artie?”

  “Worrying about you, kid. You don’t call, you don’t write, you can’t send a simple email telling me you’re alive? I had ASP up here for an hour questioning me about your whereabouts.”

  Kadian felt Charisma’s small hand take his. “Artie, you remember Charisma? She’s my mate now.”

  “Oh kid, that’s fantastic! And what an excuse to give to your fans about where you’ve been. A whirlwind romance is always a forgivable offense.”

  “I’m glad you think so, Artie. Go home!” Kadian pushed past Artie and dragged Charisma into the apartment, turning and closing the door on his agent. “I don’t want to see you for at least a week, Artie,” he said through the door, even as he turned every lock and pushed the chain lock in.

  Artie glanced down at his socks, seeing the hole in one toe as well as the drink he still held in his hand. “Wait a minute,” he called, pounding on the door. “My shoes and coat are in there.” He had two seconds to wait while the door was being unlocked. Then Kadian tossed him his shoes and his coat, grabbing the glass out of his hand.

  “Good man,” he said, then closed the door again. A trill of feminine laughter was the last thing Artie heard.

  “Oh hell,” Artie sighed, sitting down in the hall to put on his shoes. Then a small smile touched his lips. If anyone deserved some happiness, it was Kadian. The man wrote songs that other people fell in love to. Now he could write his own song. Throwing on his coat, Artie hit the button on the elevator. Maybe he’d go over to Flannigan’s bar and see if he could hunt up a little romance of his own. He rubbed his hands together, remembering the luscious Laurene that worked the bar. She’d make for a cuddly bit of fluff to warm his bed tonight.

  Charisma groaned as Kadian took her over another peak of pleasure. Her arms were around him, her eyes shut as she flew with him in her mind. She felt him jerk inside her, his cock thickening as he spilled himself. Holding him afterward, she could hear their song playing over and over in her mind. She began to hum it softly, her fingers playing with the soft, damp hair at his nape.

  “I love you,” he groaned, rolling to the side so that he didn’t crush her and pulling her against him.

  “I love you,” she sighed, snuggling.

  “That was our song,” he whispered, pushing her hair away from his face.

  She opened her eyes, staring into the face that even amnesia hadn’t been able to wipe from her mind. “Yes, I heard it while you were inside of me.”

  “You know what that means,” he teased.

  “What’s that?” she sighed, stretching her slender, lithe body against his and making him moan. She rolled until she laid atop him, her wet pussy lying against his cock.

  “You’re my number one fan.”

  Charisma laughed, then proceeded to show him how true that statement was.

  About the Author

  A small town girl with a master’s degree from the School of Hard Knocks, Wendy started writing as a way to combat boredom and keep from gaining dress sizes after an injury to her back kept her from working. No one was more surprised than she when people actually
enjoyed what she wrote.

  Writing as Daniellekitten, Wendy has won many awards for her writing, including Most Influential Writer in 2005 at Literotica.com, as well as Most Literary—Genre Transcending. She’s been nominated for many of the Reader’s Choice awards, as well as the monthly awards at the same website.

  Wendy Stone resides in a small Michigan town, spending most of her time writing and enjoying time with her animals and the company of her family.