didn’t want to talk at all, but she deserved to know.
Their eyes met and before he knew it, he stood beside her stool, dangerously in
her personal space. He reached for her, and Charlotte leaned into his open palm
without hesitation. He took her by the shoulders and turned her around to fully face
him. His hand on her chin, he guided her closer, he couldn’t stop himself from tasting
her.
“You’re not going to let me off the hook, are you?” he asked, setting his cup
down, holding her gaze.
“Nooo. I like watching you wiggle.”
“Enjoy it, do you?” he whispered, releasing her chin and circling behind her. He
breathed against her ear, letting his tongue trace the shell of her lobe, tasting the salt of
her flesh. His tongue hummed in glee.
“Yes…” she hissed, her body rising as his lips trailed down the smooth slope of
her neck and on to the hardness of her collarbone and over the round of her shoulder,
the sweater’s fabric getting into his mouth. “Ichigo!” God, he loved how she whispered his name. Yes! He could listen to that forever.
His cock grew heavier as she repeated it and grabbed his shirt. He grinned against her
neck where he’d traveled up again. His teeth glided along her flesh there, making her
clutch him tighter.
“Ichigo!”
“Yes?”
“Stop!” She put her other hand on his forehead to physically halt his progress.
Trembling against him, her breathing began to slow.
“I like watching you wiggle,” he retorted, a devilishly wicked smile curved the
corner of his mouth, widening at the pleasure on her face.
She giggled. “Touché.”
He folded her into his embrace, and she let him, snuggling into him as if cold.
The blanket had fallen to the floor in a hush shortly after he kissed her ear. With her
head on his chest, Charlotte sighed, and it sounded happy and pleased, like she
belonged right here, like she wanted to be there.
Ichigo had no intentions of ever letting her go.
A stranger, but she felt right, perfect in his arms. He had never believed in true
love. And after Sybil, he never thought he’d want to love again or put in the damn
effort, but Charlotte made him want all of those things again.
“How am I doing?” he whispered in a rasp, letting his fingers stroke the smooth
flesh of her chin and relishing how silky it felt.
“Good,” she said, her lower lip trembled. “Let me kiss you,” he said, and without pausing he brushed his lips across the
expanse of hers. His cock jumped at the exquisiteness of her mouth. So lush and soft.
She licked her lips and his heavy phallus thickened.
Damn.
He had to have more.
Her tender hand closed over his and she moaned after the second kiss.
Those delectable lips parted, inviting his tongue entrance. Come taste me, she
seemed to say, and he did. Slow, as if his eternity was created for this sole purpose—
kissing her. His tongue explored her mouth, every sweet corner, every delicious drop of
her sugary essence. She moaned again and the hum of her pleasure made his rod rigid.
So hard, he could probably crack the island’s marble countertop.
“Um,” she mumbled, breaking the kiss. “Wow.”
He smiled.
“I, I don’t uh know what just happened.”
“Well, that’s a kiss.”
“Funny…”she said.
“And a damn good one,” he added, his grip still firm. “If I do say so myself.”
She smiled, pulling her hand free. She squirmed against the ebony leather of the
stool.
“Yeah, it was, but we shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered.
“Yes we should.” He kissed her softly on the forehead before she broke completely free of his
embrace. She quivered, the shudder rippling through her. Sliding off the stool, she
reached down to scoop up the blanket.
What happened? Did he push too hard? She was acting strange. Something was
bothering her.
“My wife left me,” he said, the words popping out like a net to catch her from
leaving. The words sounded strange now that he’d aired them in the open. He’d
rekindled and his doubts burned. “She just packed her stuff, left Kanon at a babysitter,
and vanished.”
Quiet settled around them. Charlotte wouldn’t face him. Pulling away, she
hugged the blanket to her body. He sighed. Might as well tell her all of it. He wanted to
hug her, but she didn’t seem to want him to. She’d asked about his ex-wife, so he’d best
tell her all of it.
“So, about two years ago, I got served divorce papers from her, out of Nevada.
No explanation except the usual. She also gave up her parental rights. She cut us out of
her life.”
“She left her daughter,” Charlotte said, like she couldn’t quite believe it. “Kanon
was three?”
“Or there bouts,” he said, shrugging. The past was past. He wanted to embrace
the present in more ways than one.
“Did you look for her?” “Nope,” he quipped, reaching for Charlotte, unable to fight off the desire any
longer. Enough talk. He had other ideas for what they could do with their mouths.
“No?”
“No,” he repeated. At first, he’d thought to go after Sybil, but didn’t. “If she
didn’t want us, why try to make her? She made her intentions clear.”
“That’s just, just foul. How could she just go?”
He couldn’t agree more. But to be honest, he only wanted to kiss Charlotte, not
talk about Sybil.
“That’s long over,” he croaked, touching her wrist.
She looked at him then.
“Is it?”
Ah, there. That was why she questioned him and had pushed him away. She was
scared. Worried.
“From the moment you puked in your passenger seat,” he said, “You’ve been all
I’ve thought about.”
She snorted in laughter.
Finally, she fell into his arms and he hugged her close. She smiled, and although
he couldn’t see it, he could feel it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I got you,” he said, dropping another kiss to her brow.
“You think you got me?” “Yes, because you have me,” he explained. He lifted her chin up to his and
kissed her.
Soulful and searching, the kiss deepened, plunging into his soul and stirring it
until it boiled. Unwilling to break the kiss, he gently sucked at her tongue. God, this
woman dropped her anchor into his emotional storm. She would pull him asunder if
she tried to leave. He had to remain tethered to her. He pressed her closer to him,
unable to get enough.
Breaking the kiss, he croaked out a warning.
“I know this, this is new, but damn it, Charlotte, tell me now, right now, if you
want me to stop.”
Instead of answering him, she parted her legs and yanked him to her. Her
salacious and horny grin fed his own ravenous lust. Hot damn!
His eagerness nearly tore though the polyester of his uniform pants, but to hell
with it, he pushed against her, reclaiming her lips for himself. Heaven melded into a
single breath. And he was blessed with each and every si
ngle exhale. A gift and glory
all ripe in a sweet chocolate coating, Charlotte begged for him to unwrap her passion.
And he would.
Chapter Seven
Charlotte’s stomach lurched as Ichigo’s lips skimmed along her jaw, drawing
goose bumps in the wake of his soft, butterfly kisses. Her swollen lips throbbed from
the force of his kiss, but his mouth, that luscious mouth had drifted on. He lowered his
face to rub his cheeks, his mouth, and his nose against her skin as if he meant to grind
his exquisite scent into her own, mixing them until she smelled like him. Even when she
left, she’d still be able to inhale him against her flesh.
“You smell like heaven, like angels, and sweetness,” he mouthed against her
collarbone. It wafted up against her neck, tickling under her chin and smelling strongly
of coffee. Up her spine, his hand traveled, stirring her desire into a glowing buzz.
She grinned, and pulled him closer, unable and unwilling to break his hold, to
leave his embrace. Taking a deep breath, she fingered a few strands of his hair, feeling
the satin tresses glide through her digits, bringing shivers to her back, as her spine
tingled. Her heart flipped when he nipped at her collarbone, making her gasp. Her grip
fastened in his hair, snatching it roughly in her fist, he grunted, but his kisses
intensified.
Melting against him, she stopped thinking about anything except the flurry of
sensations shooting through to her core, making her quiver and gush in anticipation.
Her baser instincts roared over the quiet pleading of her logic to stop, to step away, and to halt her path into the dangerous territory she found herself in. Her clit tightened to
stone. She wanted him and she wanted him now!
“Ichigo! Please,” she moaned, grinding her pelvis against him, feeling the rather
large cock dig into her side.
A rakish grin spread across Ichigo's lips. “Tell me what you need, Char.”
Oh, it sounded easy enough. Just open her mouth and declare what she wanted
from him, but she couldn’t think, let alone talk when his hands cupped her breasts and
rolled her taut, stiffened nipples between his index fingers and thumbs. Through her
sweater and thin lacy bra, the heat of his hunger burned through them. The scratchy
lace of her bra chafed her nipples, making them pebbled into points so steely, she feared
he’d cut his hands if he didn’t release her lust. He plucked the tips as if they were
dainty little bows.
“Ichigo!” she cried, his name snatched out of her throat by the rising lust inside
her. “Please!”
He chuckled, as if her distress, her heat was humorous! Damn him.
She pushed him back, and snatched her sweater over her head in jerky
movements that showed how shaken he made her. Once off, the cool kitchen air swept
across her searing flesh and she shuddered. Ichigo watched her, drinking her in. The
whisper-thin fuchsia lace bra held her breasts up to him.
“Those are the most beautiful, wow,” he whispered, so low she didn’t know if he
was talking to himself or to her. Heat spread across her cheeks, and she sighed, a ball of anxiety lessening,
burning to a crisp before the strong flames of his passion.
Without any more talk, he reached out and gently cupped her breast, using his
nimble fingers to slide the lace over her beaded nipple. He pinched it, drawing out a
whimper from her lips and a pulsating jolt to her clit. He lowered his lips to the
marbled tip, flicking it harshly with his tongue. Her back arched forward, shoving the
cinnamon tip into his greedy mouth.
Exquisite pleasure at the hands of his wickedly agile tongue caused her to cry
out. She didn’t even understand what she said, if anything, intelligent at all. Her hands
ran up his arms, his thickly roped muscles stretched and flexed beneath her fingertips
as if starving for her touch. With his mouth torturing her right nipple, his other hand
slowly manipulated the left, sending dual jolts of lightening straight to her already
hardened button. Already her wanting dew glazed her thighs, and still she gushed
more, so wet. God, she was more than ready to take him inside her. Based on the long,
slightly curved weapon pressed against her pelvis, she would need every drop of
lubrication to take him.
And damn if she didn’t want to take every long, delectable inch.
Her stomach muscles tightened in agreement. Already hard and alive against
her, his phallus bobbed as if trying to spur him on. She wanted that long, thick, steel
buried inside her. Hell, she was more than ready for him to fill every inch of her wet,
aching core.
And she told him so. “Damn, take me, Ichigo!” she purred against his hair. Her hand clenched in his
hair.
He didn’t even hesitate. He stood up; untangling himself from her hands he
snatched off his shirt, buttons popping in his haste. With swift hands he undid his belt
and shoved his pants to his feet, his boxers with them. He kicked off his shoes. Graceful
and smooth like a panther, Ichigo disrobed in seconds. Charlotte’s eyes widened and
she had to remind herself to close her gaping mouth.
His cock jutted out into the soft kitchen light. His ivory shaft curved upward
toward his bellybutton almost guaranteeing he’d reach her G-Spot.
A model of chiseled perfection, Ichigo smirked at her expression.
“Glad you approve,” he said, voice stripped down to a feral rumble.
“Oh, hell yeah.”
His muscular thighs and tight torso spoke of strength. Her mind drifted to a
vision of her straddling those powerful thighs as he pounded into her.
Her pussy clenched at the thought.
“Take these off.”
He snatched her pants at the waist, jerking her to him, and undid her button and
zipper. She lifted up her ass as he roughly shoved them over her cheeks. Tugging with
those wide wonderful hands, he dropped her jeans in a pile beside his.
Left only in her matching fuchsia lace thong, Charlotte molded her breasts and
teased them with light plucks.
“Make me come, Ichigo.” “I smell your need, baby,” he whispered, squatting down in front of the bar
stool. He leaned forward and kissed her mound through her panties’ sheer lace. She
thrust forward as his teeth raked over her swollen pussy lips.
“Oh!” her back arched sharply from the bar stool.
He guided her up to the barstool, and roughly shoved the flimsy material aside.
One bent leg used the stool’s cushion surface while her other one lay pinned beneath
Ichigo’s wide hand. A sigh pushed out of her as his fingers slid down her lips, parting
them in moments before slipping in two delicious digits.
“Oh God!” It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.
Her hips bucked anyway, trying to get more. He flicked her button making her
muscles tighten and body squirm impatiently. He used one hand to clasp her down and
steady her. His other hand buried itself in her ebony heat. Again and again his fingers
found her spot and pressed it repeatedly. His marvelous mouth suckled her clit,
occasionally grazing it with his teeth.
“Please!”
She didn’t care if she sounded like a horny teenager. This was far better than her
dream, but damn if she didn’t wa
nt Ichigo’s delicious cock buried to the balls inside
her. Oh, yes, she did.
“You taste so good. I wanna eat your juicy pussy all night.”
The slick press of his tongue made her whimper with want.
Whack!
She was going to die. He slapped her cit and then shoved his fingers back into
her warmth.
“Oh hell!” she shrieked, her leg an iron vice around half of Ichigo’s torso. His
mouth clamped over her throbbing button and his fingers’ pace increased.
“Like that?”
“Yes! Yes!”
Surely, he could tell how greedily her inner muscles milked his fingers, hungry
for more. Hell yes, she loved it, and the approaching orgasm rose high in her belly,
knotting up tighter and tighter.
“Then come for me.”
As soon as he said it, the rasp of his groans, lifted her higher and higher. Using
his tongue to sweep throughout the recesses of her wet garden, Ichigo’s pace became a
frenzy. Slurping, sucking, nipping without pause, so much so, she thought she’d die.
He devoured her creaming pussy.
“Oh my God!”
“That’s it,” he said, “Come for me.”
He went right back to business. She savored his plunging, sliding tongue,
thrusting against his face for deeper penetration. Her orgasm hovered on the edge.
Intoxicating, his actions sped her higher and higher, and soon, she spilled over the walls
of her control.
“Damn!” she managed as her throat closed over the smashing fist of her orgasm.
Her pelvis and hips had a mind of their own, bucking and grinding against his face until she couldn’t maintain any semblance of composure. She melted into a puddle of
shuddering pleasure beneath his hands. “Oh, fuck!”
Ichigo had folded her into his arms, sweeping her from the bar stool and laying
her on the floor beneath his grandmother’s blanket. With her desire’s dew on his
tongue, he kissed her. Their mouths fused for several hot moments, and he pushed
through her full lips to plunder her mouth. He groaned his pleasure as the kiss
lengthened. Her aching nipples rubbed against his hard chest.
With her quim still quivering from her orgasm, Ichigo pressed the huge swollen
knob of his shaft to her entrance. The feel of his delicious body meeting hers caused her
to shudder violently against him.
“You want me?” he asked, eyes burning through to her heart. “Tell me.”