Why would he say that? Why would he want to hurt her?
It was the ultimate trigger and Charlie felt like she was suffocating. Like his hands were wrapped around her neck and squeezing.
“If I could leave, Bird, this would have never started,” he said, somberly.
“You can’t say shit like that to me. About hurting me. What does that mean? Do you hurt women? Do you hit women?” she asked.
He blew out a breath so heavy it was the hurricane that forced her back to meet her bed. Charlie placed hands over her face and stared at the ceiling, but it only made her feel trapped. She sat up, abruptly, and rushed through her house, down the stairs, and out her front door.
Air. The fresh air helped. She was down the porch steps in seconds and in her grass, on her back. Eyes up. The stars. The sky. She cried out like that view was oxygen and she had been deprived.
She appreciated the way her heart slowed until she felt his hands under her body, picking her up.
She clung to him as they went up the steps, past her junky-ass living room, back up the stairs, bypassing her dog-infested bed and straight back to the shower. Their comfort zone. He turned the water on and Charlie didn’t speak as he put hands around her, trapping her between strong arms as he leaned into the wall.
“I ain’t gone hurt you, Bird, but you got to be careful with me. Shit ain’t gon’ be what you used to,” he said. “It ain’t gon’ be normal.”
“I don’t want normal and what I’m used to hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt,” she whispered, tears mixing with the water spraying over them. “I want different.”
“Then slow down for me. I’ma get there but let me wrap my mind around you first. Be patient with me, baby.” He wasn’t asking and she wasn’t denying him of the order. She nodded and he pinched her chin, gripping it between his fingertips.
He kissed her and the fucking growl he made while doing so made her river flood. He was doing this for her. Going past the limit, giving her connection because it was the love language she understood, but his shoulders were like bricks. Charlie moaned as he parted her thighs and then without warning, he was inside her. They went from no touching to being one body.
“Is this okay?” she panted, mouth falling open as his tongue invaded her lips.
“No, Bird. This is fucked up,” he grunted, as his wide dick pushed into her.
“Oh my God,” she moaned.
She didn’t think twice about a condom because no way was this weird-ass man dirty. He was too particular to not be safe. She was sure this was killing him. That he was counting her germs, probably keeping a note in his head of all the places he would need to sanitize on his body after they were done.
Demi was too good at this to be so selfish. He fucked her against her shower wall, delivering inches of bliss as he split her walls. Inches. Demi delivered inches, both wide and long. She felt all his frustration as he hit it. He pulled out and teased her clit, pulling moans from her soul as she sank her teeth into his shoulder.
“Demi,” she whispered, hanging on tightly, like the ride was moving too fast. He gripped her ass with one hand and her neck with the other, fucking her so good that Charlie wished she was able to run from him. He was so deep she was gagging on the dick. She felt him in the depths of her soul until neither of them could take anymore.
“Fuckkk,” he said with bass. “Oh shittt.” He pulled out, leaving her legs too weak to support her as he pressed his forehead to hers.
He was quaking, body literally shivering from the encounter. He didn’t know if she was made of magic or if he was just completely in over his head, but her touch lingered. He felt her everywhere. Charlie had pulled an orgasm from him that started at his toes and spread over every inch of him, inside and out, until he had erupted. Demi had indulged in plenty of women; none had brought him to a nut like this.
“Are you okay?” she asked, voice unsure, small, unusually so because Charlie gave big energy. He could tell he had thrown her off, made her uncertain of how and if she should be handling him.
“Give me a minute,” he said.
Charlie nodded. He was trying to be normal, but she could see the abnormality in him.
This nigga is fucking odd,Charlie thought. She slipped out of the shower, leaving him in the bathroom alone.
Demi’s fist bawled against the tile wall once he was alone.
“Fuck, man,” he spat, gritting his teeth, temple throbbing. So much conflict swirled in his chest. He had crossed a line. So many lines, but it was too late to turn back. He should have never let her get in his car, never discovered where she lived. This was bad. This was out of fucking control. He was out of control. He cleaned his body and then located her cleaning supplies and cleaned the shower before stepping out of the bathroom. Charlie sat on the bed anxiously, dressed in his shirt. He tensed. It was shit like that. Her opting to wear his shit, leaving invisible Charlie pieces on the fabric. She was going to drive him crazy.
“This was too much?” It was rhetorical because she knew the answer already.
“The dog,” he said. Charlie looked behind her to the dog resting on her bed. Of course, he didn’t like dogs.
“The sheets,” he continued. “They’re the same as last time.”
It hadn’t even been three days.
