Charyn could hear his fingers slurping as he started flexing his thick digits inside her. He could tell by the rocking of her hips that she wanted more, sensed the pleasure half-waking her. He laid still and waited to see her reaction to his nocturnal invasion. As she drifted back to consciousness, she looked over at him. Charyn kept himself tranquil enough to make Makenzie think he was still sleeping. Mak touched herself, fingers tapping her clit counter to her hips rocking. She came on his hand, a gentle orgasm. When he heard and felt her coming, Charyn groaned her name. Pleased with the sound her name made on his lips, she smiled and lay back, replete in the dark of night.
Charyn enjoyed Makenzie’s stolen orgasm taken from his fingers. He loved watching her come, the power fueling his ego. He had told himself to wait, just long enough to make her comfortable with him, them. But her silent splendor made him jealous, and he wanted all of her now.
Deciding to take the upper hand, he whispered into the pitch black, “So you decided not to wait for me again?”
She groaned, whispering back, “Why do you always catch me playing with myself? Makes me feel like a perv.”
“That’s because you’re perfect for me. Any woman strong enough to take me on has to thrive on a diet of steady orgasms,” Charyn responded, voice a rasp on the silken sheets. Mak stared in the distance, even the darkness unable to hide her longing for him. Charyn used the sopping fingers inside Makenzie to stroke her sensitive G-spot, hooking the digits forward and watching her shudder in his clasp and cry out once more, near coming for him again.
God knows, she was made for him.
* * * *
She felt naked, and not just physically. At least if it were just about clothes, all her misgivings could be brushed off. He saw too deeply inside her, left no place to hide. No mask that she could wear would conceal her now. But they were too different. It wasn’t a black-and-white thing, although that would be the obvious reason. That difference just underscored the real ones.
Their whole lives were polar opposites. He was born with a silver spoon, while she grew up a single block from the bad side of the railroad tracks. He was a big fish in an ocean-sized pond, and she was a guppy in the beta-sized fishbowl. He was…outside of her sphere. There was no way in the world they were able to be equals in a relationship.
She couldn’t keep up, and she would spend the entirety of their liaison being educated by him. But what did she bring to the table? Nothing. Anything she could give him he could get with or without her in ways she had never heard of and didn’t know existed. A good meal could be bought. A beautiful woman for the night to play his games with was likely free for a man like him. Unless he preferred to pay for it, and she doubted that was his style. Even her paintings could be bought. For a man who probably cut his teeth on fine art created by masters, anything she fashioned wasn’t probably worth what he spent on toilet paper each month.
Conversely, she knew he would defend her from any and everyone. He wanted to take time, for her, get to understand her mind. He was gentle, even at the moments that she could sense his control was shot. For those reasons, she would rather take these hours before dawn with him than eternity with another.
Mind made up, Mak looked at him, willing to give everything to him for one night only. Charyn spoke first, as if he knew what was on her mind. “Come here. You’re too far away.”
“I’m right beside you,” Mak responded, looking away.
“Uh-uh, you can hide from anyone, anyone but me.”
“I know…it’s just hard to share so much with someone. I’ve been alone most of my adult life. I’m not used to this, and you came out of nowhere.”
“Yep, kind of blindsided, but you know we fit.”
“Yes.” Mak’s single word spoke volumes.
“I can give you time, Mak, just give us time.”
Mak didn’t want to wait for him. She had soul-searched enough. Now was the time for action. She touched Charyn, just his face, sweeping the jaw line. He skimmed hers in response, his caresses gentler than hers, as if she were fine bone china. It made her ache somewhere in her chest, deeper than her heart. It made her nervous, as if she’d never had sex. She was unable to look at him, the pangs telling her she was falling for him. In too deep, for a man she barely knew. Makenzie knew that this was the only night she could have with him, or she was going to break her own heart in two.
It was Tuesday morning, and as good a day as any to fall in love. Charyn pulled her closer, skin to skin, every part touching its mate. She took a deep breath, air scented with him, sandalwood and spice. He scented her back, long inhalations that gave her goose bumps.
He whispered in her ear, “This time is just you and me, no props, just us. Makenzie and Charyn.”
She nodded, knowing that they would only have this moment. She refused to be like her mother, whose existence was so tied to her husband she nearly wasted away when he grew tired of the burden of caring for their small family. Makenzie had watched her mother become a shadow of herself over the years, just going through the motions. Her mother lost weight and grew pale, and as an adult she now understood her parent was depressed at the time. But for the child she was, the day her father walked away was the moment that made her as she was today. The single instance taught her to never fall head over heels. That wrinkle in time showed her not to trust the male sex. If she gave him anything more, she would be lost, no longer herself.
She was already sprung and willing to do anything with him, for him. If one scorching night of almost-sex was enough to leave her feeling like this, what would a single month feel like? Or even a year? She couldn’t give him enough time to bring her to the point of becoming her mother. When he walked away, she would be just another woman attempting to survive being broken by the man of her dreams.
The end of their relationship would render her unable to return to her former life and whatever small comfort she could dredge from her lonely bed. Even if her life was not perfect, she had learned to make do and find a sense of peace and tranquility within herself.
He would tire of her eventually. Life had taught her all men did.
* * * *
Charyn saw she was pensive. With any other person that ordinarily wouldn’t be a problem, but with Makenzie anything was possible. Her face showed the battle she fought within, reflected how torn she was. He knew he was the reason for the internal conflict, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let her walk away from him even though he knew it would make her life easier or simpler. True, he was being selfish, but she was worth any confrontation or facing any opponent.
He had spent numerous years alone, and meeting her made each one worth the wait. There was just something about her, and he couldn’t explain it. She set him on fire without effort and magically made his life brighter with her spunk and zest for life. The opportunity to have the perfect woman for him had presented itself, and he was not a man to let grass grow beneath his feet.
Charyn kissed her, tongue searing her lips. His hands roamed, sliding over her skin. He touched her wherever he pleased, taking control of her pleasure effortlessly.
“Makenzie, you’re so soft, baby.” No other woman felt like this. Supple and strong, able to take all he had to offer without him coaxing or prodding for more.
Her sighs and moans were his road map over her body. He wanted to know her every reaction to his touch, wanted every sensation he gave to intensify her pleasure. He regretfully pulled his lips from hers, wanting to taste the skin he was feeling with his hands. The calloused finger pads passed over every inch of her not plastered against him.
He heard her breath change when he latched on her breast, sucking the whole areola and surrounding flesh in his mouth. He laid his head on her chest, suckling, tugging, then tasting the wrinkles of her nipple. He heard her heartbeat, so fast his own stuttered. Leaving the ripe mound, he slid down, tasting her thighs and knees. Charyn heard her whimper, knowing she was close. He wanted to hold her back, so he licked the crease of thigh
and hip. Sucking the skin there, he left a mark, could feel its heat. She cried out, needing him.
Makenzie was blubbering, random pleas falling from her lips. Charyn was hard-pressed not to come, as if he had never touched a woman. Truthfully, he never had. Every liaison he ever had was sordid and impersonal compared to this. He never touched a woman with intent to bind her to him forever. He wanted the others to walk away satisfied, but didn’t give a damn about them and barely remembered half their names.
He couldn’t even remember his last lover’s face well enough to pick her from a lineup. Charyn rose up on his forearms, looking at the object of his desires. Makenzie was a mass of contradictions, giving her body to him on a platter, but withholding something more important. The emotions she hid from him now, he never wanted or needed from any other woman. He was going to take them and her.
Charyn heard her curse him and knew she was on the brink of being unable to deal with any more of his sensual torture. He knew she was so close she could taste the next orgasm on her tongue. Exactly right where he wanted her. He smiled. He scooted closer to her, dragging his chest over her belly, her breasts as he blanketed her sensitized flesh. His mouth nuzzled hers, opening her lips with firm pressure and pointed tongue. She sucked the tip of the invader, caressing it with her own.
“Shit, Charyn…please…” Makenzie apparently wasn’t too proud to beg for him.
“Please what, Makenzie? Please you? Fuck you…or make love to you?”
“Oh God! I don’t care…anything you want.”
Charyn couldn’t help the smug look he knew was on his face. God, he adored this woman. “Good girl, my Makenzie.”
“Oooh…” The cry from her lips trailed into a choked gasp.
He felt her belly constrict with arousal against his, and Charyn nipped her neck, leaving rapidly fading teeth marks in his place. He wasn’t expecting the nip he received in return on his extended arm, but he should have. Damn vixen. She was in for a hell of a ride tonight. If she walked away from his bed in the morning without aid, it was because he had mercy on her tonight. He didn’t feel merciful though. Not one bit.
Charyn groaned and thrust his hips against hers. His cock, thick, heavy, was nudging her portal. She wanted it now, and shuttled her hips against it, attempting to help him gain entry. He cocked a brow at her and took over. Splaying his knees wide, he forced her thighs open, gaping, wishboned. He pressed her opening gently, the head propping her weeping pussy open. Using finesse, he stroked her, giving an inch. He could see she wanted the mile, though, and let him know that with her needy movements. She was circling her hips, the most his clutching arms would permit, as Charyn took control of her lower body with an implacable grip.
She cursed him again, wanting more, and he gave her another inch then took it back. After he seated half his cock, she was impaled, and he was left to wonder how she would take the rest of him. Charyn knew his hunger was more than she could take. But she asked for it, in fact was begging for it. Hot and rock hard, he speared her with more, leaving just a few inches to go. Squirming, Makenzie keened out, the sound ringing in the quiet. He told her how good she felt, how irresistible.
“Give it to me!” she screamed at him, and his cock seemed to engorge further. The few inches he could see remaining outside her were darker and thicker than normal.
“So demanding.” He licked his lips and backed his cock away from her clinging pussy. Only the head was left to linger inside her snatching wet grip, and Makenzie began to rock vainly for more.
She was ready for more, all of him. He gave it to her, one savage thrust seating him fully.
“Ahhh…!” she screamed out and couldn’t hold back.
She was coming, and his cock was being suffocated, almost ripping what little control Charyn had to his name. He rocked his hips to the staccato rhythm provided by her seizing muscles. His eyes widened as he heard her keen, the peak never dropping off, just raising her higher, to another.
* * * *
She clasped his arms, arching against him deeply as he slid his hands and arms under her. Makenzie held on to her sanity, just barely, as Charyn’s thick ten inches dug deeper. She felt her cervix bow to his cockhead as he clenched her shoulders from underneath her. He was dragging her, rocking her back and forth on his erection. She was screaming, the sound nearly one of bloody murder. Makenzie wailed over and over again, stuttered sounds testimony to the intensity of her climax.
He spoke, the words low and harsh due to his gritted teeth. “You’re screaming already, love it. Mmm…I haven’t even done anything good to you yet…” Charyn’s voice trailed off as he looked her in the eye, and Makenzie could only guess what she looked like at the moment. Not that it mattered. He resumed the punishing pace of his strokes, and her pussy fluttered against the stiff intrusion. His eyes closed and re-opened. “That’s it, baby, I love to watch you come. Give me more of that honey.”
If this wasn’t good, Makenzie didn’t know what was. There was no way that she could keep from exploding.
She gave it, sugared walls spurting juices, freshly squeezed for him. His expression showed he was going to give in to her manipulating walls and come. It seemed in that moment Charyn let go of the reins of control and threw himself into her, hitting every spot hidden within. The violence of the strokes he smacked her with were close to bruising. He punished her with her own need, and she loved it. She wanted him, every drop of seed he could plant in her soil, fertile or not. Her hands clenched his back, nails biting him. When he came, the groan sounded painful, a man on fire.
He looked at her, their chests heaving in concert. Both were damp from head to toe. Beads of sweat coated skin, sexual dew. His forehead was pressed to hers, and she lifted her lips to his. Their kiss was sweet, devoid of the fire and heat from moments ago. He rolled over, bringing her on top, still embedded inside her, his semihard-on trapping their sexual cocktail inside her. He laughed, and she smiled back.
“Gotta love the wet spot,” he said, deadpan.
Her core was still fluttering, his cock still throbbing while she limply lay there. What could be said in this moment that her eyes didn’t speak, that her body didn’t show?
Makenzie was the first to look away, almost pulled under by his intense gaze. She was spent, and the only sensation left was the cool air drifting over heated flesh, drying exposed limbs. Mak closed her eyes, rested her head. She had never imagined sex could be so good, so intense. Being intimate with him made her feel like her soul left her body, like she was flying high then crashing back to her body in an instantaneous conflagration of searing madness. It was insanity, that feeling of rapture and begging need. Makenzie had never felt that much in her life. As if every emotion sparked alive with his touch.
Charyn stroked her back, calloused palms rasping over her skin. She felt like his possession, and in this moment didn’t mind being owned. In fact, she reveled in the knowledge of his ownership. It let her not be responsible for anything but experiencing sensation. Not be culpable for her debasement, or the glory she found in her senses. She was responsible for nothing but breath, and that was nearly beyond her at the moment. Each time she inhaled, the intake was shallow and nowhere near enough air to keep her alive. As they lay there, his hands never stopped moving, touching, and kneading over the damp curves of her spine. Her hair had half come free of its braided state, and the strands tickled her face.
Her throat was too scratchy for comfort from her hollering, and her mouth parched from continuous panting. Makenzie turned her face into the crook of his neck, soaking wet and scented of him. She took her sandpaper-dry tongue and licked the beads of water from his skin. His cock jerked inside her once and she heard him groan. The sample of his sweat tamped back her thirst and salted her lips.
She lay pillowed on top of his hard frame, shuddering and silent. If only…She could have him every night for the rest of her natural life. Damn. Charyn dicked her down meticulously, and she actually thought in terms of the rest of her life
. What the hell had she gotten herself into?
* * * *
Charyn couldn’t sleep, just caressed the skin of his lover the rest of the night. Over and over, he stroked her, mapping her by feel, the way the blind did. He felt the kinky texture of her hair, the satin of her skin, the way the texture changed at her elbows. He learned every inch he could reach in the moonlight, held her another hour until just before dawn.
When the pinks of dawn came from the ocean, he reluctantly left her. His cock had grown hard during his exploration of her, and left her tight channel with a pop and gush of seed. He wanted her to wake to the most beautiful day he could give her, so he ran a hot bath. Opening the bathroom windows wide, he let in fresh air, scented with sea and salt. He added Epsom salt to soothe her and bubbles to please her.
Padding naked downstairs, Charyn put together a simple breakfast, fresh fruit and bagels, coffee. He put everything on a tray and set it out by the tub. Walking back to her, he pulled her close and hefted her in his arms. She stirred and looked at him, eyes glazed over from orgasms and sleep. Makenzie smiled at him, and he smiled back, stepping into the Jacuzzi tub with her. She shuddered, not getting the opportunity to acclimate herself to the heat beforehand. They sank into the clouds of foam, so dense, bubbles slipped over the edge and hit the floor. Charyn cradled her in his arms, and she was hard-pressed to remember her own name.
He fed her a few bites of banana, then a wedge of mango. She returned the favor, feeding him bites of bagel she spread with cream cheese. He turned her around to face him and, probing, seated her on his cock. She bowed her back and her breasts made an offering. He disabused her of that notion, saying, “I just needed to feel you around me. Eat.”
Willows, Jennifer - Bound by Accident [Moreland Brothers 1] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 13