If I thought about it, it would make me sad that she didn’t seem predisposed to take time to really enjoy her pleasure, but that was something I was more than willing to help her discover. Hell, I would fucking love to make Charlotte’s pleasure a college-level course.
Relaxing my grip on her hair, I let my fingertips trace a path down her neck, skimming the skin below the open collar of her blouse. She arched higher, pressing against me, and it was all the permission I needed to pop open another button and let my fingers dip lower, finding the gentle swell of her breasts and the edge of her lace bra. Kissing my way across her collarbones, I slipped open another tiny button and then another, exposing her beautiful breasts held out like a lace-covered feast for me.
Careful to avoid brushing the nipple I saw clearly outlined through what I was sure was a very expensive bra, I cupped her breast with one hand while I held her in place with the other. I laid a trail of kisses to the tops of her breasts, dipping my tongue under the lace to taste the skin I hadn’t bared yet. Her hand went to the back of my head, urging me lower. I loved her eagerness and her certainty with what she wanted. I’d love even better showing her she could have so much more. Helping her find the layers of pleasure that differentiated a dirty martini from the cocktail I’d made her. My tongue dipped lower, catching the edge of her puckered flesh, and I felt her breath catch. Another stroke and she melted against me, her hand gripping my hair holding all the tension in her body.
I pulled back, and she let out a sound very close to a whimper. “Bedroom, Charlotte. Where is your bedroom?” I didn’t want to fuck her against the wall. Not tonight anyway. The first time I tasted Charlotte, I wanted her spread out for me. Every inch of her exposed for my hands and my mouth. I wanted to play her like an instrument, draw out every bit of her pleasure and watch her come undone for me. It was more ambitious than I imagined she’d agree to that night, but I was going to do my damnedest to get as close as possible. And then I’d work my way up from there until I got her to a place where she demanded the indulgence instead of being seduced into it.
“Down the hall.” She pulled back a step, and it was as if she were putting on armor. Or rather, like she was sliding into a persona. Either way, there was distance where there’d been softness moments earlier.
I’d never been one of those people who assumed sex had to mean relationships and happily ever after, but it did mean something. Even the kind of fucking that just scratched an itch was an exchange between two or more people. Honest exchanges enhanced pleasure and dishonest ones could make you feel worse instead of better. Even a hate fuck could be phenomenal if everyone was clear with their expectations. The distance Charlotte was putting between us was a kind of hiding. Pretending, and not in the playful, fun way. In the way that would kill any intimacy we managed to build between us for as long as we did whatever it was that we were doing.
The irony was not lost on me that I’d been doing something similar all night—trying to maneuver her into things she said she didn’t want because I was sure I knew better. It was arrogant and wrong, and I ought to feel like crap about it. I didn’t. If it ended with Charlotte stretched out for me, letting me wring every bit of pleasure from her gorgeous body, I’d make my peace with the moral inconsistencies, accept an honest exchange for as long as she wanted, and respect her choice when it ended.
I stepped in close to her, determined to close first the physical distance and then the mental one. With one hand wrapped around her waist and the other twined with her fingers, I pressed my lips to her ear. “Show me.”
She nodded, leading me to a room at the end of the hall while I made sure we stayed connected. I felt her try to put distance between us, and I kissed her closer, keeping my hands soft so she wouldn’t feel trapped and my mouth demanding so she’d want to get nearer. Charlotte liked my lips on her neck. She arched into me, her ass pressed against my cock as she bared her throat for me. It was primal National Geographic shit, but there was a reason male lions bit the female’s neck and pinned her in place with his teeth, the promise of pleasure and pain held together in one simple gesture.
Charlotte reached for the handle of the door, and I let my teeth scrape the slender column of her throat, hard enough to steal her breath, but not hard enough to mark her. That was something to save for another time. I didn’t have to ask to know she wouldn’t appreciate wearing my mark tonight, but I’d work to make sure eventually she craved it.
She opened the door on a room that looked as if it had been pulled from a magazine but smelled like her—warm roses and something more, something richer. Vanilla, maybe. The cast-iron bed—Jesus, she had a playground bed—with its white down comforter could belong to anyone, but that scent, a delicious overlay to the whole room, that was Charlotte’s alone. I slid my hands to her upper arms, indulging for a moment in the difference in our heights—even in her fuck-me heels, she fit under my chin—and breathed in the scent of her.
The break was enough for her to slide back into control, and she stepped away from me, reaching for the few buttons on her blouse I hadn’t gotten to yet. If I didn’t do something, she’d be stripped down naked before I had a chance to unwrap her like the gift she was. I wanted Charlotte naked, so much it was practically an ache. I wanted her naked and under me for hours, but I wanted to take our time getting there. And I wanted her to enjoy every second of it.
“Let me,” I said, turning her to face me and catching her busy fingers with mine.
Her expression was a battle between annoyance and intrigue, and I was pretty sure I only had a few moments before the annoyance won out. This woman was fast. She had a fast mind and a determination I’d put up against anyone. I was going to have to work hard to keep up. It was perfect. Exactly the kind of challenge I needed but hadn’t known I wanted. And the work would make everything else that much sweeter.
Pinning her with my gaze—she never looked away, almost like she wasn’t willing to be the one to blink first—I slid my hand to her face, cupping her cheek and then stroking along her jaw and down her throat with the back of my fingers. When I reached her collarbone and trailed my fingers down between her breasts, her lips parted, and I knew I’d made progress moving her from annoyance to intrigue. Unwilling to push my luck yet, I made quick work of the remaining buttons.
Pressing my hands to her shoulders, I indulged in the slide of the silk between my palms and the warmth of her skin. Slowly, deliberately, keeping my hands flat, I slid the blouse over her shoulders and down her arms, baring her creamy flesh and the delicate lace of her blue bra, the perfect contrast to her pale skin.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
I loved women—always had. They were exquisite in whatever flavor they came in, and I enjoyed every one. I’d never been the kind to choose just one, but if I did, Charlotte would be my ideal. Long blonde hair that I itched to wrap around my fist, full kissable lips begging to be bitten, and a body that managed to be curvy and petite at the same time. Her full breasts, barely covered by the robin’s-egg blue lace, was my teenage self’s wet dreams come to life. Add in those big, blue, too-perceptive eyes and the crazy quick mind, and I knew I was in serious trouble. She was the kind of woman who could mean something. Who would mean something regardless of how much time we spent together. Charlotte would leave her mark on me.
I caught the hint of question in her gaze and realized I needed to step things up before I lost her again. I couldn’t afford to let my attention wander. Not when she wasalways watching with her laser-sharp focus. Getting her to first pay attention to every sensation and then lose herself in pleasure was my new life goal.
I took a step closer, close enough to feel the warmth of her body against mine, and her lips parted. Bending to reach her, I brushed my lips over her, the barest touch, just enough to feel her breath against my mouth. The position put me close enough to reach behind her to the waistband of her skirt. Lips hovering over hers, pausing every few heartbeats to brush my mouth against hers, I unfastened the button on her skirt and tugged down the zipper. If I pushed the tiniest bit, the fabric would slide over her hips and to the floor, but I stopped instead, resting my palm on the small of her back.
Lips barely a breath away from each other, I gave in to the feel of the dip and swell of the small of her back against my palm. I knew without looking; she’d have dimples at the top of her ass. I couldn’t fucking wait to press my mouth to that spot, to bite gently as she squirmed underneath me.
I’d make us both wait because I knew it would draw out the pleasure and make it that much sweeter when we finally got there. I just had to make sure I kept Charlotte so engaged, she couldn’t rush ahead. I’d help her ride the edge until neither of us could stand it a moment longer and then I’d take us both over together.
“Step for me, cher,” I said, nudging the skirt until it pooled at her feet. I took her hand in one of mine and tightened my grip around her waist, steadying her while she stepped free of the puddle of fabric.
Pressing my mouth to hers, I licked along the seam of her mouth, catching her bottom lip between my teeth as she opened for me. The tiniest bit of attention made the woman bloom, and I wanted time to explore every single petal. I took a step back, loving the way her body instinctively followed me, leaning closer. I knelt in front of her, pausing to scoop up her skirt and drop it on the chair next to her blouse before gripping her hips in my hands. The lace of her panties matched her bra, as if there was ever a question. Charlotte would pay attention to every detail.
I ran my nose over her lace-covered sex and felt her body tense in anticipation. She smelled so fucking sweet—the warm musk of her arousal combined with something uniquely Charlotte—and I breathed in, pausing for a moment simply to enjoy her. When I felt her shift slightly on her heels, I covered her mound with my mouth and bit her, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to feel her stomach tighten against my forehead.
I wanted the lace gone, wanted nothing between her sweet sex and my mouth, but I wanted to take my time too. I could tease her in this position, but she wouldn’t be able torelax enough to orgasm. And I wanted Charlotte to come. Hard. First on my fingers and tongue and then on my cock. Her hand stroked through my hair, but contrary to what I expected, she didn’t try to pull me closer. She ran her fingers over my head in a gesture so unexpectedly tender, I steadied myself with my forehead against her stomach. I could happily stay there for hours, breathing in the rich scent of her, but it was only a matter of time before she pulled away and I didn’t want to risk that. I gave her mound one more quick bite, loving the way she squirmed against me, and then I stood, using my hands on her hips to turn her to face the bed.
“Up against the headboard.” I gave her ass a smack and shot her what I hoped was a cocky grin when she glared at me over her shoulder. “Pace yourself, cher. We’re just getting started.”
HE CALLED ME CHER AND smacked my ass like some kind of daddy Dom wannabe. Except that wasn’t right. There wasn’t anything pretend about him. The man was so fucking competent. It made it hard to breathe sometimes, starting with the cocktails and working his way through to the kisses. His touch was the perfect balance between tender and the demanding kind of fucking I’d gone into the night hoping for. The kind I was pretty sure I still wanted until he started petting me like we had all the time in the world and savoring me was his only job.
That was another thing that should bug me but didn’t. I wasn’t someone’s cher. I wasn’t a bad girl who needed to be punished, and I sure as hell wasn’t someone’s pet. I kept waiting to feel outrage, to feel the desire to take control of the situation and tell Ford I changed my mind. The feeling never came. Every time he murmured cher in that clipped Creole accent, it made something tighten low in my body. Like the way the rumble of his command made me think of a big cat calling to his mate—or his harem, because with his skill set, it was impossible for me to think of Ford as a one-woman kind of man. That, at least, worked for me. It kept me from getting ideas I’d hate myself for in the morning. Ideas about how maybe we could do this more than just the one time.
Even the ass smacking worked for me. I’d ask Alex about it the next time we were alone together. I knew it was her thing. She and Erik played with power exchange stuff all the time. I’d just never realized it might be my thing. Or not. Just because I hadn’t felt the urge to flatten Ford when he had his hand on my ass didn’t mean I liked it. Of course, thefact that I half hoped he’d do it again might be more relevant.
