Sugar

by Seressia Glass

  “Yes,” she huffed out. She always needed more with Charlie. More sensation, more play, more pleasure. He was making her insatiable in a way she had never experienced before. “You make me greedy for you, Charlie.”

  “That makes two of us then.” He moved the vibrator to her other nipple, laving the other sensitized tip with warm strokes of his tongue even as his thumb dragged across her pulsing clit in maddening circles. “I always want more of you, no matter how much of you I have. More of the sounds you make and the responses you give, especially when I have more of this sweet pussy.”

  He slipped the vibrator down the valley between her breasts, slowly trailing the pulsating device down to her belly button. Her stomach clenched in response, in anticipation, in desperate need. “Take it,” she burst out. “Whatever you want, you can have it.”

  “Not yet,” he answered, surprising her. “I can’t have it yet, but I will.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, the buzzing intensified. His thumb against her clit began to vibrate. He must have placed the vibrator against his hand, and the result was magic. She mewled, spreading her thighs open wider, needing as much of the sensual ripples as she could get.

  He obliged her, running the stimulator over her clit in a maddeningly light stroke. Her sex clenched, empty and aching. “Charlie.”

  “Yes, goddess?”

  “More.”

  “Yes, goddess.”

  He stroked the humming device along her outer lips, once, twice, then again. Just when she thought she’d have to beg, Charlie pushed the vibrator into her waiting sex. Her body, already brimming with pleasure, flooded with delight. She gasped, then sank into a purr as Charlie fit his mouth to her. He suckled her clit, teasing strokes, tantalizing sweeps, tender kisses that promised to shatter her.

  Sparks shot through her, leaving her moaning, gasping, breathing his name. He called her goddess but in that perfect moment his name was a prayer on her lips.

  “That’s it, sweetness,” he crooned against her. He slid the stimulator into her slick channel again and held it there, thrumming reverberations echoing through her core. “Show me how much you like what I’m doing to you.”

  His tongue thrust into her already slick folds as he began to slowly fuck her with the vibrator. A guttural groan escaped her, her fingers tightening on the headboard as he continued the sensual onslaught. Higher and higher she careened, Charlie expertly working her body as if he’d long ago learned what would drive her crazy and make her scream. She writhed on the sheets as Charlie drove her toward bliss with fast, slow, circular strokes and the eager sweep of his tongue. Her body hummed in time to each thrust, each taste, each magical movement. A flick of his wrist and the vibrator surged to a higher setting. Charlie pressed it in and up, then sucked her clit between his lips.

  She shrieked, catapulted into orgasm, bright white sparks dancing behind her closed and blindfolded eyes. Her thighs clamped together, holding him in place as she rode out the powerful wave. Finally, limp and spent, she collapsed.

  It was a long moment before she could separate her higher functions from the purring contentment spiraling through her body. When she did, she became aware of him moving, taking away the pillows, making noises she couldn’t discern the meaning of. Then he touched her thigh. “Lift your hips, sweetness.”

  She obeyed, then lowered herself back down at his soft command. He’d placed a towel beneath her.

  Trepidation blunted the edge of her euphoria as he pressed a gel-slicked finger against her anus. “Uh, Charlie, I don’t know about this.”

  He paused. “Are you worried, sweetness? I’ll be gentle.”

  “That’s not the part I’m worried about.” She felt embarrassment burn her chest. “This is either going to be really satisfying or really embarrassing.”

  “I have two younger brothers,” he reminded her with a chuckle. “Believe me, I’m not afraid of farts.”

  “I don’t want to think of farts or your brothers while you’ve got your finger in my ass,” she complained.

  He laughed, damn him. “Allow me to give you something else to think about then.”

  She settled back with a loud sigh of surrender. “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “You’ve warned me but you didn’t say your words.” He paused, the tip of his finger firm against her bottom. “Do you want me to stop?”

  Despite her worry over this uncharted territory, her body wanted more. She wanted more. “No, I want you inside me.”

  “I’ll let you set the pace, sweetheart. Remember, if you want to stop, just say the word.” He kissed her, a slow, thorough kiss that fogged her senses and fueled her desire. When his finger teased over her rear opening, she lifted her hips eagerly, wanting him everywhere, wanting him to claim her completely.

  Pressure, then his finger slipped inside her back entrance. Warmth spread. “Ah. Wow.”

  “I used the warming gel.” He trailed kisses down her throat. “Do you approve?”

  “Wholeheartedly.”

  “That’s my sweet girl.”

  He continued to kiss his way down her body as he worked his finger deeper, lubing her rear entrance and preparing her to accept the vibrator. By the time he kissed his way back to her sex again, she was ready for more. “Now, Charlie. I want it now.”

  He pressed the tip of the vibrator against her back hole, the slick gel and tapered tip making the breach somewhat easier to bear. She shifted her hips to impale herself, then stopped at the first flash of pain.

  “Siobhan?”

  “It’s definitely not the same as your finger.”

  “Okay. We’ll try again some other time.”

  “No, don’t move. Just let me breathe through it.” It took several stops and starts but then somehow her muscles relaxed and the vibrator slipped inside. Flashes of pain were forgotten as more of that delicious heat spread through her.

  He thrummed up to a faster setting. “Good?”

  Tingles swept through her, delicious rolling sparks. “Oh, yes.”

  “Maybe I can make it even better.”

  He fit himself to her entrance, then pushed slowly inside. She moaned as his thickness filled her, competing with the vibrator thrumming in her rear channel. Blind, bound, she was helpless to do anything but accept the dual invasion and revel in the pleasure of it.

  “Yes.” He shuddered as he bottomed out. “Holy fuck, Siobhan, that feels good.”

  He withdrew, then reentered her on a long, slow glide that had her arching up again, drawn to him, drawn to every bit of pleasure. God, he’d used the warming gel on his cock, sending more of that heated sensation spiraling through her as he found the perfect rhythm. They’d definitely have to order another bucket or two of the stuff.

  “Charlie, Charlie,” she chanted, the sensation almost overwhelming, driving away rational thought, memory, language. She gathered enough wits to beg. “Need you. Need to see you. Please let me see you.”

  His weight settled on her, heavy yet oh so welcoming, then he pushed the blindfold up. She blinked as his features came into view, her breath catching at the back of her throat. His jaw worked with the effort to maintain control but his eyes blazed as if she was everything that he needed to survive. “Hands?”

  It took her a moment to realize what he meant. “Yes, yes, please.”

  He reached up to loosen the sash binding her hands. She immediately tunneled her fingers into his hair, dragging him down for a fierce, unfettered kiss. Wrapping her legs high around his waist, she rocked against him, his name a chant on her lips.

  Her wildness triggered his own. Groaning her name, he powered into her repeatedly, the thickness of his cock pressing against the pulsating solidity of the vibrator filling her ass, making her helpless to everything but the pleasure that steamrolled through her, obliterating everything but him.

  “Charlie, Charlie, I’m gonna come,” she warned him, not wanting to go without him.

  “Go, babe, I’m right there with
you,” he said huskily, his hips slamming against her. She shoved one hand between their colliding bodies, so wild, so wet, so ready that it only took one stroke to overload her senses and rocket her to an earthshaking release.

  Charlie buried his face into the crook of her neck as he pummeled into her in pure masculine ferocity. He stiffened, tossing his head back, mouth open in a wordless groan as he jetted deep inside her. They collapsed together, spent, drained, and utterly satisfied.

  EIGHTEEN

  Much later, Siobhan traced her forefinger across Charlie’s pecs as they lay together in a tangle of sheets and limbs trying to fall asleep together for the first time. “Do you think they’ll like me? Your brothers, I mean?”

  “Absolutely. In fact, they’re more worried about making a good impression on you. Kyle knows you own the café, and since he loves to cook he’s been stressing over some elaborate dish to impress you. Finn will ask you if you can play video games, but since he’s got a car fixation, he’ll be a goner as soon as he sees your vintage convertible.”

  Siobhan pursed her lips as she thought about how to best relate to Charlie’s family. “If he likes classic cars, I can get you guys passes to the Crimson Bay Classics auto show that’s coming up at Tidewater Park in three weeks. The Bombshells are going to make an appearance. With Kyle, I can certainly talk food, and maybe we could even cook together.”

  “The boys will love that. You’ll have them wrapped around your finger in no time.”

  “I’ll be happy with them not actively disliking me. The only thing I want to be wrapped around is you.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Noted. I do have to say that it sounds like you’ve got each one of us pegged already.”

  “Not all of you,” she admitted. “I have no clue what to do with Lorelei. My track record with girls Lorelei’s age—well, that’s mostly been centered around trying to get my daughter to stop hating me, which means it sucks. All I can do is try though. I’ll just follow her lead.”

  “Lorelei already likes you, as proven by the fact that she lets you call her Lorelei,” Charlie pointed out. “She told me so when she came to read me the riot act for taking so long to get back to you. I think it’s safe to say that all you’ll have to do is show up Saturday and not be frightened off by the O’Halloran clan in all our loud, obnoxious glory. In fact, I may just tie you to my bed or the couch or something until we’re done brainwashing you.”

  “I don’t think you need to do anything so drastic,” she said. “I’d rather you do other things to me when you tie me to the bed.”

  “I’ll make sure to put that into the rotation often then.”

  She settled against him, enjoying the comforting bulk of his body next to hers, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, and the weight of his arms around her. She could get used to this, she thought. No, not used to it, because she didn’t want to take anything with Charlie for granted, but moments like this, spent lying entwined together sated and exhausted, were gloriously precious.

  Aided by Charlie’s slow deep breathing and his hand resting on her waist, Siobhan edged toward a contented sleep. She’d thought Charlie was already asleep until he shattered her contentment with a quiet question.

  “Why do you think your daughter hates you?”

  Siobhan cringed. She didn’t want to talk to Charlie about this, not here, not now. Not when things were going well between them. Even though her past was still and always would be a big part of her life, she didn’t want to remind Charlie of what she had been. She did want him to understand though, if only so he’d realize that the place she was in now was better than where she was.

  “I know Colleen hates me because she told me to my face that she did. This was two years ago, when I thought having her work in the café with me would bring us closer together. It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.”

  “Tell me again what happened to you,” Charlie said, running his hand down her back.

  Siobhan froze at the soft request. “Why?”

  “Because I want to know,” he said into the silence, his voice low but no less determined. “I’m having a hard time understanding why your family treats you the way you say they do, especially your daughter. Especially when everything I know and see and experience with you makes me like you more every day. Who could hate you?”

  She pressed her face against his chest, the warmth from his words colliding with the chill of old memories. “I had to talk about it in rehab. I had to talk about it with my therapist. Talking about it brings back the pain, and I don’t want that pain to come back.”

  “If it’s too difficult for you, we don’t have to talk about it.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s get some sleep.”

  She could almost feel him withdraw. “Charlie.” She spread a hand on his chest, over his heart. “I want to tell you. I need to tell you. I just . . .”

  He seemed to understand. Lifting her hand, he gave her fingers a gentle kiss. “Tell me what you want, when you want. I’m here to listen.”

  “Okay.” She sighed, then turned her back to him, needing the slight distance to give her the courage to speak. “Pain is what started it. People will tell you there’s this endorphin rush after you deliver the baby that takes the pain away. I didn’t get that rush, just more pain. It was everywhere and it weighed me down.

  “I wasn’t nursing so they prescribed Vicodin. Everything was fine for a while, but the pain returned and it hobbled me. Mike was serving overseas at the time and Colleen and I were living with my grandmother. I was supposed to help her and keep her company, but I think it was more the other way around. She was my lifeline but I still felt like I was failing everyone—my daughter, my husband, my family—and that added to the pain. I would have done anything to keep from disappointing them more than I had already.”

  “How did you disappoint them?”

  “My parents, my father in particular, weren’t happy that I got pregnant during my senior year of high school. Good Catholic girls don’t do that, and certainly no daughter of theirs would let herself be used that way. That was the main reason I went to live with my grandmother.”

  She hunched her shoulders. “I felt a lot of pressure, especially after my grandmother died, but I was failing at life. I couldn’t fail at motherhood too. So my doctor put me on OxyContin. The pills dulled the pain and when I doubled the dosage, they got me back to happy. They got me to a place where my family liked me. My relationships with my parents and Mike’s parents improved. I could play with my daughter the way she needed me to since she was an only child. I was able to be there, be in the moment for all of them even though there was this soft focus over everything. It seemed like everyone liked me better when I was stoned.”

  “You can’t mean that. Did you have a completely different personality when you were high?”

  “No. I don’t think so, but the memories of those years are mostly fuzzy. Obviously, I was able to function well enough, be myself enough, that no one suspected anything for a long time, or they simply believed that motherhood agreed with me. But my tolerance went up, which meant the amount of pills I took each time went up. Then it was pills with a glass of wine.”

  She gripped the sheet in a trembling fist. “Sometimes it makes me wonder what would have happened, how far I would have gone if I hadn’t set the kitchen on fire.”

  His hand slid over her waist, then splayed across her belly. “Sometimes the worst things can become good things with a little time and distance. You got the help you needed. Your family should be happy about that.”

  She shook her head, not to deny his words, but the memories they evoked. “I embarrassed them. Worse than that, I disappointed them. Malloys are made of stronger stuff than that. I was in treatment for ninety days and by the time I got out, they’d made up their minds. I got served divorce papers the day I was released. Mike had put my things in storage, moved to the other side of the county, and my daughter and parents wouldn’t see me.”

  She rem
embered that day with crystal clarity. How hopeful she’d been, thinking the future was bright, thinking her family would be there ready to welcome her back. That none of them had visited her during her stay she’d chalked up to a tough-love approach. Instead of her husband waiting for her, a process server had delivered a thick envelope with divorce papers, a custody judgment against her, and keys to a storage unit, along with letters from her mother, Mike, and Colleen explaining why they were kicking her out of their lives. Devastated, she’d retreated to her room and refused to leave, knowing that as soon as she left the treatment facility she’d be truly alone.

  “That day was the worst of my life because I had nothing. I’d gotten clean for them, endured withdrawals and baring my soul because I knew they were waiting for me. Instead they abandoned me. I had no family, no place to stay, and I didn’t have the chemical cocoon the pills gave me. That pain . . .” She stopped, breathed deeply several times before continuing. “That pain nearly did me in. If not for Nadia and her fathers, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  She did know, though. She’d had nothing and no one. Her life had been over, and in her mind being clean and sober hadn’t been worth the price she’d paid. If Nadia hadn’t invited Siobhan to stay with her, Siobhan doubted that she would have survived the day.

  “That was the worst day. And the worst night, the biggest temptation to say the hell with it all and let go. Then I swear I heard my grandmother ask me, did I truly get clean for them or for me? If I failed, I’d be proving them right, proving that they were right to cut me off. I realized I had a choice to make, and I chose to prove them wrong. I chose to succeed. I chose to move on with my life. And I did. Mostly. But I still want to reconcile with Colleen and my parents if I can.”

  His arms had tightened around her while she told her story. “I hope you can. Family means everything.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I hope so too.”

  “What do you do for pain now? If you get a headache or stub your toe or have cramps, how do you deal?”