Chapter Fifteen
The night was sticky hot and the air-conditioning backstage only half worked. Bastian ran a finger under his collar—his white clerical collar. WTXT’s Summer Kickoff was nearing a close and he was backstage dressed like a priest. Charlie was floating around somewhere dressed in a micro-mini black naughty nun’s habit. Well, he mused, at least under the long cassock, he had pants on.
Charlie slipped her arms around his waist from behind. “Ready for this, Father O’Chastity?”
“You betcha, Sister Milk-n-Honey. Where’s Boo?”
“Chill out, Sebastian.”
Bastian turned and threw his head back with a laugh.
“What?” Caz feigned annoyance and straightened Bastian’s white coat over his pale green scrubs. He straightened the stethoscope around his neck then patted his Dr. Feelgood name tag. “I make a better-looking doctor than you do.”
“I can’t believe you cut your hair.”
With Caz’s tattoos covered by the coat and his hair cut short, the similarities between them were almost shocking. His brother ran a hand over the now-short blond shag and shrugged. “It fit the costume. I wanted a change anyway. Besides, it’ll grow. I kinda like this look. I might offer free breast exams after the party and see what pops up.”
“As if you could handle a real woman.” Eddy sidled up and looped her arm through his. Her short, tight nurse’s costume showed way more cleavage than Bastian preferred to see from his almost-mother-in-law so he looked out to the stage. The morning crew was taking their final bow. He grabbed Charlie’s hand.
“Come on, Honey, showtime.”
The bright lights nearly blinded him but he slipped into his final performance as Dr. Hot/Father O’Chastity with ease and smiled at the audience. In the shadows beyond the stage area, he spotted Devin, in football pads, with cheerleader Melanie at his side. The teen waved back with a wide smile. He caught another set of eyes a few tables away and winked when a sparkly fairy wand waved back.
Charlie cocked her hip in a so-not-religious way and earned several catcalls. Bastian had to wait until the crowd calmed down before speaking into the microphone.
“Excuse me, Sister. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me over here behind this podium?”
Charlie batted her lashes at him and licked her painted lips. “Now, Father, I offered to help you behind your cassock and you called me a Jezebel.”
Bastian forced a stern expression onto his face. “Sins of the flesh will be your downfall.”
With an exaggerated innocent expression on her face, Charlie folded her hands in prayer-fashion. “But Father, I only want to go down on—I mean, with—you.”
Bastian mock-scolded, “You are a bad, bad girl.”
“Really? The bishop said I was the best he’d ever had.”
The audience roared and applause rang out while Charlie blew kisses to the crowd, tossing her short wimple over her shoulder. She delighted them with her naughtiness.
He chuckled and directed his words to the audience. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? If my teachers at Saint Andrew’s had looked like that, I wouldn’t have minded being spanked.”
She looked at the crowd, pursed her lips then strolled over and thwapped him on the butt, earning another burst of laughter.
“Okay, that’s enough parochial punishment, Sister Milk-n-Honey.”
Properly chastised, Charlie hung her head. He knew as soon as his back was turned she would do something outrageous. He faced the mike and felt her hand slide along his ass. She gave a firm squeeze. Bastian blinked. That bit wasn’t for the audience and he floundered for a moment.
“Uh, everyone at WTXT would like to thank you for coming out and donating to the Autism Foundation. As we’ve highlighted tonight, this disorder is widely varied and touches over a million children in this country alone. Children with this disorder learn differently, process things around them in their own ways and are often lost in their own worlds. They can teach us if we listen, and we can reach them if we try. We all—doctors, educators, parents and the general society—must reach out in the hope that one day they’ll be able to interact on a meaningful level for everyone.”
He supposed he should be full of nerves but too much happiness coursed through him. There wasn’t room for anything else. He unfolded a small paper that had been tucked in his pseudo-Bible.
“According to the last figures we have, tonight you have raised almost eighteen thousand dollars for the Autism Foundation.”
When the applause quieted, he looked back at Charlie. Beneath the black-and-white headdress, her blue eyes were wide with excitement. He held his hand out and Charlie took both it and his place at the podium. Her grip was tight but her face was relaxed and her voice was smooth.
“A few weeks ago, during the three-hundred-and-eighty-third show of Let’s Talk about Sex, Doc proposed to me on the air. I, of course, refused and propositioned him instead. The Race for Wed or Bed has been a thrilling, entertaining and enlightening journey. I learned a lot about myself and my co-host. He really is my best friend. He taught me that love doesn’t depend on the body but on the heart. He showed me that innocence is just as powerful as passion. He proved to me that forever isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.”
The look she sent him warmed his soul with more intensity than the footlights. He gave her back the best smile he could before she turned to the audience.
“That discovery is one I wish everyone could have. Being loved, no matter what, is a gift. It’s a precious feeling knowing you can count on someone to catch you if you stumble. It’s even more rewarding to be the person who catches someone before they fall. Children with autism need someone to reach out to them and to always be there.”
In a sudden burst of nerves he was sure no one else saw, Charlie blew out a fast breath and steeled her shoulders.
“So who won our race? We’ve never said. That’s because neither of us did and yet we both have. The score was tied thirty-two to thirty-two at our last show, but we promised to go out with a bang. Tonight is the bang, the tie-breaker. We’re arrogant enough to think that this will open your hearts and your checkbooks to push us past that twenty-thousand-dollar mark. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Honorable Walter Shuman, District Nine Circuit Court Judge.”
Bastian started the applause and the crowd joined in as a pudgy gray-haired man in a Lucifer costume joined them on stage. He hefted his pitchfork and bowed. Caz and Eddy slipped in behind him, standing on the stage behind Bastian. Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes.
Charlie looked up into the sound booth and nodded. There was a click and a buzz as Justine transferred the audio from the podium mike to the overhead system. She blew them a kiss from above and then sent a thumbs-up. Charlie stepped beside Bastian, lacing her fingers with his.
Judge Shuman took the book Bastian had left on the podium, cracked it open and cleared his throat.
“Through the airwaves on Let’s Talk about Sex, Dr. Hot and the Honeypot have shared their courtship with us all. We’ve cheered them, laughed with them and learned from them. I welcome you tonight to join in once last time and stand as witness to the marriage of Dr. Sebastian William Talbot and Miss Charlie Ann Pierce.”
A collective gasp exploded from the seats and a loud twittering rose high into the balconies but the judge never paused. Soon everyone quieted to listen if this surprise wedding was real.
It was very real.
No costumes, stage lighting or hundreds of unsuspecting guests could diminish the impact this moment had. Bastian’s knees quaked and his stomach shimmied but this was the moment he’d dreamed of coming true. His face ached with the spread of his smile.
He barely noticed Eddy tucking his ring into Charlie’s hand or pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. Her fingers trembled sliding the wedding band on him but she never stumbled with her vows. Bastian repeated his vows slowly and clearly, never dropping his gaze from Charlie’s. He slid the gold ring home and looked up. Charlie had tears in her eyes, tears of joy.
“I love you,” he whispered.
She answered with something he’d never get tired of hearing. “I love you, too.”
“And now, for as much as you have made your vows, each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving your rings, I pronounce that you are husband and wife. Sebastian, you may kiss your bride.”
Bastian needed no second prompting. His hands tangled for a second in her wimple but his mouth found hers like a beacon in the dark. He meant to give her a light kiss but nothing with Charlie was simple. Her tongue touched his and every good intention flew from his head. Electricity sparked and burst into flames that had begun around a campfire weeks ago. He dove into her mouth, tasting every corner and crevice of his wife’s kiss.
Deafening applause drowned out everything except the feel of her in his arms. Lack of oxygen alone pulled him away. She laid her head on his shoulder and whispered, “We did it.”
Dr. Hot had a bit more left in his bag of tricks. He nipped her ear. “Not yet, but let’s get the hell out of here and get naked.”
“Amen, Father,” she laughed.
“I think you mean husband.”
If life were perfect, they could have slipped out the back. But the audience was on its feet, clapping and cheering. Flashbulbs popped and cellphone cameras clicked. They smiled and waved, granting a second kiss to quiet the calls. The Summer Kickoff closed on a high note, with the money-raised goal lights blinking wildly.
Aiming for the door, Bastian and Charlie worked the crowd, accepting congratulations and thanking sponsors. Eddy caught Charlie in a fierce hug. “Be happy, baby girl.”
“I am, Mom.”
His spine stiffened when Eddy scowled at him. “Hurt her and you answer to me.”
“Yes, ma’am…Mom.” He grinned.
Caz clapped him on the back then handed him a set of keys. “Congrats, bro. Now get out of here. I parked out back so you shouldn’t have to fight the traffic too bad.”
“Tell me you didn’t do something juvenile like deck the SUV in balloons and condoms.”
Caz’s gaze shifted to the side. “Well…”
“Boo,” Bastian snarled.
Charlie slid her hand into his and squeezed. She nodded, the silent message on her face shifting his irritation to excitement. Her sparkling eyes darted behind Caz.
Bastian gripped his brother’s shoulders and turned him around. “Time to face the bully.”
A dark-haired woman stood twenty paces away, nearly swallowed by the bustling crowd. She didn’t move. She held the hand of a little girl in a glittery fairy costume. Caz’s back went straight and his face fell flat with shock.
“Maggie?” The terrified whisper held awe and hope and an undercurrent of disbelief. “Grace?”
The violent tremor that ran through Caz’s body struck hard at Bastian’s gut, and his throat tightened. He couldn’t imagine suddenly seeing his child for the first time.
“How did you…” Caz’s voice cracked and he clamped his mouth shut. He spun around, facing Bastian. “I can’t do this. She has a restrai—”
“Yes, you can.” Bastian’s grip on his arm was firm. He looked hard into Caz’s eyes, seeing the absolute terror, the fear of failure, the shame he tried to hide. “That expired a long time ago. Talk to Maggie. Meet your daughter. She’s a sweetheart, Boo.”
Caz looked like he wanted to vomit, but he sucked in a breath and turned. He took the first step toward his daughter. Over his shoulder, a little fairy waved a sparkly wand at them. Charlie waved back then slid her arm around his waist.
“You did good, medicine man.”
“I owed him. He bought out my half of the house. He deserved to have his family.” A sudden blurriness made him close his eyes. He reached for her, found her in the best place, at his side. “You ready to get out of here?”
A naughty look darkened her eyes to ocean. “I’m so ready I’m not wearing panties.”
His cassock barely hid his instant erection. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“Only you, Charlie. Name one other bride who chooses to go camping rather than have a real honeymoon.”
Orange and gold danced across his hair, turning it to polished brass. Brass that shook with his laughter, drowning out the snaps and pops from the campfire. She closed the cooler lid then returned to settle between his knees. The night was warm enough that no sweatshirts were needed this time, and her tank top left her shoulders bare to press against his T-shirt.
“You can’t say I didn’t treat you right on our wedding night. I made you s’morgasms, BBQ potato chips and hot dogs, a feast fit for a king.”
He circled her, hugging her to his chest and kissing her neck. “No comment on the menu. Besides, I plan on feasting on something much sweeter later.”
“Oh? What?”
His tongue skimmed a tingling line down her neck. “Honeyed peaches.”
Forget honeyed peaches. His voice husked with the rich timbre of warm butterscotch. A sweet rush gathered between her legs. They’d waited so long, testing every boundary but never crossing the lines. The past few weeks had been filled with hurried plans and sweet torture. Now nothing stood between them and forever.
She wrapped her arms around his. “This is where it all started, remember?”
Firm lips nibbled up her ear. “I thought there was no way I could ever want you more than I did that night. I was wrong.”
A half turn was all it took for her mouth to find his. Her lips parted under his, and their tongues lazily stroked a craving to a hunger. He licked her bottom lip then scalded her with a fierce closed-mouth kiss. “Remind me to update my will, okay?”
She jerked her head back. “You’re kissing your new wife and thinking about kicking the bucket?”
Her tease did nothing to soften the sincerity on his face. “No, it’s just I feel like every dream I’ve ever had has been given to me. My life can’t get any better.”
Happiness surged through her. Only weeks ago they veered from a path of just friends, of comfortable companionship. Now their lives were intertwined, from this night forward…to forever.
Her fingers delved under the edge of his shorts. The loose legs let her hand trail up to touch soft cotton underneath. “Oh, trust me, your life is about to get a whole lot better.”
Unharnessed lust flared in his eyes. “Let’s go to bed, Mrs. Talbot…or sleeping bags, as the situation is.”
“You’re sure this is okay? It hasn’t been that long. You’re not still sore?”
“Nope. I’m all yours.”
“You went back for the follow-up? Got…everything checked out okay?”
“Yes. Got the all-clear from Dale.” Bastian chuckled and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “And after all that time trying to get me naked, not helping me get those last two samples was downright mean of you.”
“Just making sure you stayed true to the bet. You said you wouldn’t go to bed with me until we were married.”
“Actually, I said not until you could say ‘yes.’ You said ‘yes,’ then we said ‘I do.’ Now I’m saying ‘let’s go.’”
She squeezed his thighs then stood. “You bank the fire. I want two minutes alone before you come in the tent.”
“I’m timing you. Go.” The feral look on his face sped her heart.
Charlie grabbed the lantern and darted into the pitch-black tent. The single light cast soft shadows on the nylon walls. Shimmying out of her clothes took no time but situating the sleeping bags she’d zipped together over the air mattress was a pain. She’d barely slipped inside before the flap thrust back. A kettledrum thudded in her chest. A deeper, achier thud formed below.
Bastian ducked in, pausing half in the tent, half out. He sighed. “I’ve been dreaming of slowly undressing you for…oh, months now, and here you are, naked inside the sleeping bag, totally depriving me of that fantasy.”
With deliberate seduction, she used her foot to inch the edge of the covering down. She rose to her knees and let the material fall away. The lamplight hid nothing and Charlie didn’t want to hide. She wanted him to look, to feast, to let loose the hunger he’d held in check. The brush of his gaze across her body tightened her nipples and made her breasts heavy. She cupped them in her palms, rolling her thumbs across the tips.
“I can give you something better than a fantasy.”
The tent zipper whizzed downward with a scream. The air mattress dipped slightly as he crawled to her, ripped the shirt over his head and captured one nipple between his lips. The strength of his possession forced her to the mattress, the sleeping bag zipper biting into her ass.
“Bastian!” She arched with a laugh. “You’re moving awfully fast here.”
He never took his mouth from her breast. “You’ve driven me fucking crazy for weeks. I’ll go slow later.”
Somehow, tangled in down-filled Gortex, Bastian managed to kick off his shoes, shed his clothes and never lose contact with her skin. Stinging nips from his teeth soothed beneath his silky tongue until she writhed and whimpered under him. She buried her fingers in his hair, pulled his head up and took his mouth. She rolled his shoulders back to the mattress.
His long-fingered hands were everywhere—her breasts, her hips, her back. But he was far too much the gentleman to insist or demand. Charlie easily kept them away from strategic spots. The sleeping bag bunched under him as he allowed her to lie atop him.
“Slow. Down.”
He rocked up. “I’m trying, Charlie. I want you so bad.”
A pulse beat in his hard shaft, pinned between his belly and hers. Swinging her leg, she straddled him, bringing her damp core flush to his hard stomach. She ground against him just to hear his soft moan. Torturing him was such fun when it promised orgasmic endings.
“You can have me…after I’ve had you.”
Time stood still as her tongue dove into his mouth, thrusting against his, mimicking the action he obviously craved. If she tilted her hips a fraction of an inch, she could end this torture, slide him deep inside her with a single stroke. But that would be too easy and over far too quickly.
He rose to capture her mouth and she angled her face, giving him her cheek instead. Teasing little nips and nibbles along his neck and collarbone simply frustrated him. She tugged his hands from her hips. Inching higher on his belly, she rocked her empty center along the muscles in his stomach but kept her breasts away from his mouth.
Bastian growled. “For weeks you’ve been trying to get me in bed and now you play hard to get? You are evil, my wife.”
Charlie laughed with wickedness. She lowered her mouth to his neck and bit harder than needed but the pain melded with his desire and made his hips buck.
“Please.”
Never taking her eyes from his, she slithered down his body. The thin thread of hair on his belly became her map. The muscles of his stomach tightened then quivered when she circled her tongue below his navel. Everything vanished from her past. Nothing and no one existed except this night and Bastian. Tonight, she would make love for the first time with her husband.
“Watch me, Bastian. Watch me take you.”
Wide and wild, his bronze gaze focused on her lips. For all her teases and touches, she’d never had the luxury of just looking at him. He was fully hard, his rigid cock lying flat to his belly. Tantalizingly slow fingers traced over him, learning the different textures—the silky head, the firm shaft, the raised veins that pulsed with his heartbeat. She toyed, a cat with a string, decided which way to pounce. She dragged her tongue from the base of his shaft up to the wide head then flicked the tip into the glistening drop beaded there.
His chest heaved, a tic jerking along his jaw as she licked from the top down to the very bottom. Her eyes never closed, never blinked, kept him locked with her as she explored, tasted and teased.
“You. Are. Killing. Me.” The words rasped with his strained effort. Charlie pouted her lips then sucked him deep. A garbled cry filled the tent and his hands shot into her hair. “Charlie!”
She answered him without words, sucking and stroking, swirling her tongue along the stiff ridges. The frantic quivering of his lower stomach enthralled her. The rhythm of her mouth kept time with her hands kneading his thighs, working every hard muscle to the absolute brink before pulling back and smiling. His head crashed back to the mattress and he gulped air in loud bursts. She raked her nails along the insides of his thighs, turning the gulps to a hiss.
Gently, still cautious despite his claims, she cradled his balls, smoothing her thumb across the satiny skin. A small barely pink line that would soon fade to nothing filled her with awe. Such a tiny mark to have made such a huge, life-altering impact. She placed a single reverent kiss atop the scar.
His hand cupped her cheek. He knew where her kiss had landed, and the doorway it opened for them. Her gaze rose to his. Tenderness strengthened their connection and overshadowed the temptation. One teasing lick drove temptation back to the forefront.
Flattening her tongue, she used one long continual stroke up to draw his hiss into a series of pants. God, she loved the feel of him in her mouth. He was heavy and firm and glided over her tongue like the finest wine. Dr. Hot was definitely packing some heat and she turned every trick in her book loose on him. Deep and shallow, fast and slow, soft and harsh, suck and blow, she held nothing back, taking him higher and closer just for the sheer pleasure it gave her.
Her one-time observation of him was true. Bastian didn’t talk much but, my God, the sounds he made—the gasps, the hums, the noisy breaths—all transmitted exactly what he liked and what he really liked. He really liked when she went all the way down, took him deep in her throat and swallowed. His breath stopped completely with that move, then exhaled with a dark-chocolate growl when she did it again. And again.
Tiny nibbles along the flared head interspersed with darting flicks of her tongue brought a fast pant. His fingers caressed her scalp, never forcing her down, never holding her still, just relaying how much he needed to touch her as well as be touched by her.
The ripples in his stomach spread to his thighs. Wrapped in her short hair, his fingers tightened then spread wide. His palms tried to halt her. “Stop…I’m going to…”
She hushed him with a wordless look, never stopping her motion. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted him, all of him. She took all of him.
Bastian surrendered with a guttural moan. His eyes pinched closed and his body shook. Powerful pulses throbbed against her tongue but Charlie never slowed, never drew away until the very last quiver faded from his muscles. He sagged against the air mattress, sucking in air loudly.
She crawled up his stomach and brushed the hair from his sweat-damp brow. “You okay? No pain?”
“Pain? No. Jesus, that was good.”
She nibbled her bottom lip before giving him a sultry grin. “That was an appetizer. Now, ready to get down to the main course?”
He chuckled, lazily opening his eyes. A spark reflected the lantern glow and turned wicked in his gaze, like brandy warmed by a fire. Pure masculine prowess flowed through his body as he shifted, leaned over her and pressed his mouth below her ear.
“Going down sounds perfect.”
Bastian liked to kiss, was a master of the art, and he kissed every inch of her he could reach, from her temples to her nipples. He never hurried or rushed, but took time to taste, touch and explore each curve of her. Beneath his traveling tongue, Charlie’s bones dissolved. A quiver at the base of her spine spread outward as he made love to her with his mouth, his lips, his tongue.
He slid down, marking his territory with a husband’s right, claiming each expanse of her skin. Warm breath blew along her hipbone as he settled between her knees, gliding his hand along her thighs. “This, this is what I’ve been dreaming of. Open for me, Charlie. Let me taste you.”
She needed no more coaxing. That heated breath moved across her skin to feather along the dampness she revealed. For a moment, he did nothing and she opened her eyes. He worshipped her with his reverent expression. A single, chaste kiss at the top of her cleft was more intense than any sensation she’d ever experienced. And it only got better. He mimicked his courtship, dotting sweet innocent kisses along the crease of her thighs, across her bikini line, along the outer edges of her sex, teasing her without touching her where the deepest ache grew.
The sleeping bag whispered beneath him as he shifted, cupped her ass in his palms and stroked his thumbs along her center. Slick silk parted to his touch. His innocent kisses turned torturous. Quick and light, his lips skimmed each inch, barely letting her feel his mouth. A whimper filled the tent but he didn’t move faster.
His velvet tongue stroked up her outer lips in a slow path, kindling a burn that blazed like a wildfire. Her mind scattered. More, she wanted more, but he wouldn’t give it to her. Again and again, the tip of his tongue touched her with no rhythm, no pattern, no way to let her fall into that familiar ride. It took the letters F, G and H before she realized what he was doing, and her laugh was husky.
“I like your alphabet.”
His echoing laughter accompanied the letter I in a way no primer had ever taught.
She shivered. “Oh, I like I.”
“Wait until I hit O.”
Bastian hit X, Y and Z and her muscles twitched. He pressed a hard kiss into a thigh then made her jump with a sharp nip. “Pay attention. Class is in session.”
That wonderful letter I was followed by an interesting L. The O raised her hips and the V strained her thighs. E sent her hands into his hair and she bit her lip through Y. Another magnificent O tightened her grip and U was a bottom heavy swipe of his tongue that ended on a maddeningly slow upswing.
“I love you, too.” Loud, raw and desperately needy, her harsh breath couldn’t hold the depths of the feeling.
“Now, you’re all mine.” The whisper was a warning that came too late, her ears not hearing the words as his mouth closed hard over her clit.
If the alphabet had been an elementary exercise, Bastian more than earned his doctorate. Long broad licks propelled her one way. Wicked, unrelenting curls from the tip of his tongue drove her another. Fast-stinging nips joined with deliberate sucking pulls. Her hips thrust up. Turning her head to the side, she fisted the nylon, trying to find her release. Bastian held it from her, just out of reach, while he took her fast and without mercy, lapping at her, drawing every ounce of pleasure into a tight knot deep inside her.
“Please,” she begged.
He fluttered his tongue too lightly and too softly, turning her pleas to sobs. He dove deep, thrusting his tongue inside her. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. The too-tightly wound coil in her belly shuddered and he captured her clit between firm lips. One unyielding kiss pushed her over.
She vaulted, his name pealing into the air. A single quake broke into a million aftershocks that racked her body. His mouth never slowed, taking her climax as she gave it, with unrestrained passion until it faded to lingering hitches and soft gasps.
The aftermath was hushed, filled with the sounds of nighttime insects, the whispered wind and their ragged breaths. She held out trembling arms and he gladly went there, wrapping around her. Sharing gentle kisses, they wound around each other, legs sliding between legs, skin caressing skin, tongues touching tongues.
When her kisses picked up intensity and she tried to move him above her, Bastian pulled back. He couldn’t leave her completely, he needed her too much, needed to bind them as man and wife too desperately for that. Still, he angled his mouth to her ear and reached out, dragging a backpack closer to the mattress.
“I brought condoms.”
Charlie halted her kisses and looked at him.
Bastian kept his eyes on her face. “Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should. It doesn’t have to be right now.”
Before meant nothing. Things had changed and she deserved a say in how their future played out, when that ultimate gift would be bestowed. Marriage was two people, together.
Her eyes shifted left, toward the backpack. “If we don’t use them tonight, there’s a chance that…?”
“Yes. It’s still small but my numbers are going up and it is possible. I can wait for that. I just want to be with you tonight.”
Her unblinking gaze stayed on the bag. “I’ve never done that.”
“Done what?”
“Not used a condom.” The blue of her eyes shone ocean-deep as she looked into his face. “Never. I’ve always used them. Even my first time. And every time since then.”
Shock rippled through him but he kept his expression blank. He shouldn’t be so surprised. Charlie liked control.
“I don’t want to use them now. I want you to be my first…my only lover without them.”
Love so strong he felt it like a punch slammed into his gut. The idea of being her first roared through him with an awesome power, a primal scream that echoed in his mind. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Her smile started timid but widened to full-force. “If it happens, it happens. We’re in this together, forever. Make love to me.”
Could a kiss be considered an answer? He hoped so because it was all he could give her. Everything else was focused on the need to claim her as no man ever had. It was a chauvinistic, instinctual need that consumed him like fire consumes air.
Their bodies slid together, a sensual friction both timeless and urgent. Sweat glossed their skin and the rich fragrance of them filled the tent. Her knees parted to allow him entry but he didn’t want that, not yet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled her above him. One hand found her knee and dragged it over his hip. Hot, wet woman brushed his tip, wrenching a moan from his throat.
“Cowgirl, right? I want this to be good for you. So, like this, okay?”
The sweet heat ground down, coating him in honey as her mouth took his. Topping was power and she displayed exactly how much power she had by stealing his breath with the most decadent, possessive kiss he’d ever known. Each erotic glide of her body stroked him—her nipples on his chest, her stomach on his, her slippery folds cradling his shaft. Free to touch her, he ran his fingers up her back, along her sides, cupped her breasts.
Charlie leaned back, offering herself to his mouth and he sucked one nipple deep. Her hips circled more the harder he sucked, the more he licked, the more he nibbled. The long line of her neck shone like cream in the pale lamp light as she dropped her head back, reveling in his mouth. She rode him, rocking along his shaft but never letting him breach that final barrier, never joining them completely. His heart pounded with the force of a cannon. He needed inside her.
“Do it.” The tightly budded nipple glistened from his mouth and he used his teeth to nip at her, to make her gasp above him. “Take me inside you.”
Damn her, she laughed. The sweet tickle of her breath washed over his face. “Impatient?”
“Charlie,” he growled but the growl turned to a gasp as her warmth surrounded his tip. He waited, jaw clenched but she never sank lower. “You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you?”
“One day, maybe. But not now.”
A shift of her hips and slick silk surrounded him in one slow slide. His lungs released in a rush of air. “Oh God.”
She purred. She actually purred like a cat and arched her back, sinking down an inch he hadn’t know existed until not the slightest wisp of air separated them. They fit perfectly. She didn’t move and he never wanted her to. This was heaven on earth, this minute, this second, this bonding that had been years in the making and would last forever.
“You’re hot,” she whispered. “So hot, so hard inside me.”
“For you.”
They kissed, mere lips on lips, each clinging to this union. Then she moved. Heaven got better. He let her set the pace, the depth, the motion but each action was the most exquisite he’d ever imagined. Nothing could ever be better than this, than Charlie, his wife, stroking herself on his length.
How wrong he was.
She used her hands to push up, to sit upright on his hips. He thrust up and she pressed down, he drew back and she arched. A rhythm began, stroking him from inside, each squeeze and release calling to him. A groan died on his tongue. God, I love Kegels.
“Give me your hands.” She could have his hands anywhere she wanted. He reached up and she took them, lacing her fingers with his. “Now pull your knees up.”
He did, unsure exactly what she wanted but trusting her to show him. The rounded flesh of her ass met his thighs and she tightened her fingers around his.
“Watch me, Bastian. Watch me make love to my husband.”
Charlie leaned back, rested against his thighs and used his hands for leverage. Her feet dug into the mattress as she pushed up then slid down, every inch of where they joined spread open for him. His eyes widened. Glistening in the dim light, his shaft sank inside her creamy folds until he could see nothing but her. Then she did it again. A swallow stuck in his throat as she stretched around him. Every downward motion and every upward climb grabbed at him. He saw her body take him, accept him, love him with each move.
She moaned, a low sultry sound that vibrated deep in his marrow. “I love how you feel inside me, so good.”
He felt damned good inside her. His balls drew up and he couldn’t hold back, thrusting into her motion. She picked up speed, caressing him with her most intimate touch. At the top of her sex, her clit was deep red, pulsing with every down stroke. He pried one hand from hers and circled his thumb across the hard bud. She jumped, clamping her hand on her own knee and her satiny walls gripped him.
The noises she made were a battery charge whipping through him and settling low in his gut. God, she was beautiful—a siren captured at the moment of conquest, with her head thrown back, cheeks flushed and her lips swollen. Her breasts swayed with her movement and he cursed that he didn’t have more hands to cup them while supporting her and rubbing across her clit.
A shudder worked through her body, and tiny goose bumps broke along her skin. She got tighter, little ripples sucking at his buried cock. A meek little mewl peeled from her lips. As orgasms go, that had been a blip, and masculine ego gripped him. He wanted her to fly apart, to shatter wildly and uncontrollably. He grabbed her hips and spun her under him.
“My turn,” he breathed against her mouth.
Her ankles locked at the base of his spine. His first thrust was solid and deep. Her nails biting into his back propelled him and she met him with every stroke. He ground down to tweak her clit with each motion and ground up to slide along the sensitive inner nerves. A mindless feminine chant carrying his name, love, more and harder, filled the night. He gave her all of them.
Driving into her, heedless of anything except the feel of her beneath and surrounding him, Bastian surrendered to pure sensation. Only a whisper-thin thread held him back from taking his own release. He needed her to go first, to take him with her over the peak. The sleeping bag pooled at his feet, and the tent shook from the force of their loving but nothing could pry him from her arms.
There was no warning. One second she moved with him, the next her body went taut. Her thighs clamped on his hips and she screamed a wordless cry of completion. Rhythmic pulses around his shaft surged absolute satisfaction into his blood. She made him feel more of a man than he ever had before in his life, and he unconsciously did something he’d never done.
Throwing his head back, he drove deep and cried her name at the top of his lungs. Liquid heat boiled and rose with a fierce swell. His stomach trembled and his thighs quaked. Climax was both death and rebirth, a cycle that repeated until every ounce of his strength faded.
The echo died slowly, his body relaxing slower. He collapsed, elbows digging into the air mattress to prevent crushing her. She let her legs fall open to cradle him. He laid his damp brow against her shoulder and gulped oxygen, trying to slow his heart rate. Her fingers traced his spine, tender strokes letting him float back to reality.
A shuddering in her inhale jerked his head up. Two teardrops trickled down her cheeks.
“Charlie? What’s wrong?”
“I found it.”
“Found what?”
The open devotion on her face when she met his eyes raced through him.
“My forever place. It’s in your arms.”