Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Demi
I ’m sitting at my dressing table in my red silk and lace nightie, applying moisturizer to my face, when Charlie strolls out of the bathroom wearing black silk pajama pants. “Do you know what’s going on with Lillian?” I ask, raking my gaze over his broad shoulders, muscled back, and toned ass. Damn, my husband is fine with a capital F.
“I have an idea,” he replies while peeling the comforter back and sliding into bed.
“Care to share?” I recap the night cream and stand.
“Nope. Talking is not on the agenda tonight.”
Liquid lust pools south, and I bite on my lip as my eyes flare with desire. “I love how your mind works,” I purr, climbing up the bed from the bottom.
“I love your tits.” Charlie ogles my chest as I crawl toward him. “And I love your pussy, and I love your ass.” He curls one finger. “Come here, wife.”
Clambering into his lap, I swivel my hips and release a moan when I feel his hard length rubbing against me.
“I need you.”
“You can have me.” I lean down and kiss him.
His fingers toy with the hem of my nightdress. “Take it off,” he commands in that deep authoritative voice he reserves for the bedroom. “Slowly.”
I do as his says because in here Charlie is firmly the boss, and I’m A-okay with that. No man has ever driven me wild with lust the way Charlie has. I trust him completely with my life, my body, and my pleasure.
He says nothing as I slowly reveal my body to him, just drinking me in in that wickedly intense way of his. Tossing the nightie to the floor, I rotate my hips on top of him and fondle my breasts while he looks.
“Show me how much you want me, slut.”
My pussy clenches like crazy, and my nipples harden in an instant as I lean back against his legs with my feet planted on either side of his shoulders. Using one hand to hold myself steady, I part my folds, letting my husband take his fill.
Charlie leisurely glides his finger up and down my slit before rubbing circles on my clit.
“Hold still,” he instructs before driving one finger inside me.
A breathy whimper tumbles from my lips as he pushes his finger in and out in a maddeningly slow rhythm. It’s an effort to hold my body upright when he adds another finger and then a third, stretching me to take him.
“Thank fuck for yoga,” he says, leaning in to bite the underside of one calf. “Your body is a palace, Demi. One I’ll never stop exploring.” His fingers pick up their pace. “Push your hips up and hold still.” He curls his fingers inside me, hitting the perfect spot, and sweat gathers between my breasts as I struggle to maintain position while my husband works my body like a pro.
“That’s it, slut,” he rasps as my inner walls squeeze his digits. “Hold on tight, baby.” He thrusts his fingers at a faster pace while his thumb presses down on my clit. My legs shake and my thighs tremble with the oncoming orgasm. When Charlie curls his fingers again, I shoot for the stars, almost blacking out as I detonate into a thousand blissful particles. My thighs are shaking and my pussy is pulsing as the most intense orgasm zips through me.
Then Charlie is there, pushing me flat on my back and lifting my wobbly legs over his shoulders. I cry out when his mouth descends on my sensitive cunt, the lingering waves of my climax still enduring as he devours me with his lips and his tongue. I want to say stop. That it’s too much, and I can’t come again so soon after the first, but I know better. It’s not, and I will, and I do, screaming my husband’s name when I fall off the cliff a second time.
Charlie maneuvers me down the bed. “Hands on the floor,” he instructs in a lethally sexy voice. “Arch your spine and grip my back with your heels.” It’s not the most comfortable of positions, but I obey without complaint because I trust him. “This will be hard and fast because I need to blow my load inside you right fucking now, Demi.”
Man, that’s hot.
Thank fuck for soundproofing is all I can think as I scream my head off when he slams into me in a punishing thrust. My husband is big, and he’s stretching me to the breaking point. My tits jiggle furiously as Charlie fucks into me like a savage. I know he needs this, and he can use and abuse my body all night if it helps to take the edge off his grief.
“Fuck.” Slam.
“Fuck.” Slam.
“Fuck.” Slam.
Charlie digs his fingers into my hips as he pounds into me. Flesh slaps against flesh as he screws me senseless, and I’m lost to the pleasurable sensations he’s coaxing from my body. “Come here,” he grunts, using his strength to lift me until I’m straddling him and he’s fucking up into me.
Our sweaty chests stick together as we work in sync, and I already feel another orgasm cresting. “I love you.” I pant, swiping damp strands of hair back off my face.
“Kiss me,” he demands, and I lower my mouth to his.
Charlie grips the back of my neck, holding me steady as he ravages my mouth and claims my body in a series of quick, deep, carnal thrusts.
I shriek when I’m lifted in the air and then thrown on my back at the top of the bed. My husband spreads my legs and forces my knees back to my chest, arching my lower back as he gazes at both holes with dark desire. “You’re mine,” he growls, bringing his slickened, engorged length to my pussy. “Mine.” He drills the point home as he shoves inside me.
I whimper and writhe underneath him, loving how full I feel. Charlie presses against the backs of my thighs, holding my bent knees in place as he stretches out his legs, digs his feet into the mattress, and fucks into me in deliberate, repetitive strokes, picking up speed and ramming deep, deep, deeper until we both shatter, coming loud enough to rouse the entire neighborhood if it wasn’t for state-of-the-art soundproofing.
After a quick rest, we go at it again, and he takes me from behind before pushing his cock into my ass and rocking my world.
Charlie holds me up in the shower as we clean up and then spoons me in our bed, peppering kisses all over my face and neck. I snuggle back against him, loving how we fit perfectly together, marveling at how content I feel on a day that’s been filled with sadness.
I wasn’t terribly close to my mother-in-law. It was hard to maintain the connection we’d been building after she moved to Florida, and we only saw her two or three times a year, but I’m still sad she’s gone. The kids have no blood grandparents now, but I’m super grateful for Olivia Manning who has readily and happily fulfilled that role for years. Mostly, I’m devastated for my husband. He worked hard to repair his relationship with his mother, and he took frequent short trips to see her.
“I understand it,” he says in a quiet, sleep-laden tone a few minutes later. “How Mom died of a broken heart. I know I wouldn’t survive for long if something happened to you.” He hugs me closer. “If anything, it’s a miracle she battled this long when I know she always pined for my father.”
“She survived for you and Lillian and her grandkids.”
He’s silent for a few beats. “Yeah. I’m upset she’s gone, but I’m going to focus on the positives. She’s finally happy again. She’s back with her soulmate, where she’s always belonged.”
I’m in my creative workspace the following day when Abby finds me. Although I still manage her accounting, it’s only a few hours a day, and I do that from the study-slash-library. The rest of my time is occupied with tending to the home and my family, and I try to squeeze in a few hours of downtime weekly to work on my furniture restoration and painting hobby. I rarely sell pieces anymore, mostly working on things for family and friends. Charlie had one of the fussy old formal rooms redesigned and redecorated for me not long after I moved into his family home, and it’s my salvation on tough days.
“Hey, Demi. Is this a bad time?” my cousin asks, poking her head into the room.
“Not at all.” I wipe my hands down the front of my paint-splattered overalls before climbing to my feet. “You know I always have time for you, and I could use a break.” I smile as I put my brush down on the table and move to the sink to wash my hands. “What’s up?”
“Is that the piece for Mom?” She eyes the half-varnished large sideboard.
“It is. Hopefully I’ll have it finished in time.”
“Wow, Demi. This is incredible. You’d never even believe it was the same sideboard we discovered in the attic. It was falling apart, and I really thought you were crazy when you promised Mom you could restore it. She’s going to be thrilled.”
“I hope so. It’s been a lot of work. When we moved it here and I properly examined it, I wasn’t sure I could preserve it, but I found a guy locally who helped me repair the wood and recreate the spiral designs in a few places.”
“You’re so talented.” She smiles at me. “Mom is going to love this.”
This sideboard has been in Olivia’s family for generations, and she cried tears of joy when we found it in the old attic of the only outbuilding that survived the fire all those years ago. We didn’t even realize there was an attic until the kids were messing around in there and threw a ball up at the ceiling, leaving a hole and evidence there was stuff stored up there. The original hatch had been sealed and covered, but we managed to reopen it and discovered a whole treasure trove of antiques Olivia thought had been lost.
“Thanks, Abby. Do you want to sit outside? I have iced tea I made earlier.”
“Sounds perfect.” Abby opens the glass doors to the small patio I built a few years ago. It’s on the other side of the garden and private. When I need to think, I often come here. She takes a seat on the wicker couch while I get the jug from the mini refrigerator and glasses from the shelf. I set our drinks down on the circular coffee table before sinking onto the couch alongside my best friend.
“Is there news about Oli?” I ask in between sips of the refreshing drink. Maybe I’m presumptuous, but many of the times Abby has needed to talk to me this past year it’s been about the situation with her eldest son. I don’t think this time is any different unless something else has cropped up.
“He got arrested,” she says, and my mouth trails the ground. “It was a couple weeks ago. He got in a fight, and when the cops were called, they found oxy on him. He swears it isn’t his, and we want to believe him, but…”
“Yeah.” I squeeze her hand. “It’s hard when you feel like you don’t know your kid anymore.”
She nods. “I know he’s still my Oli inside, but he’s changed so much, and I’m beyond terrified, Demi.”
“It’s natural. I would be too.” Henry is a moody little shit at times, and Charlie is entering his tween rebellious stage, but we’re lucky we haven’t had any major issues with our kids. At least not yet, and I hope it stays that way.
“Drew, Thena, and Arlo are the only other ones who know,” she explains. “It’s not that we want to keep it a secret, but we don’t think Oli would appreciate everyone knowing.” She toys with the material of her dress. “He still won’t talk to us.” Tears prick her eyes, and I slide my arm around her slim shoulders. “He seems to have two settings these days. Broody and angry, and he’s shutting us all out. I’m imagining all kinds of things, and now Kai is talking about checking his cell and computer and actively monitoring the tracking devices on his car and phone. He even mentioned siccing a PI or bodyguard on him and…” She bursts out crying, and my heart hurts as I pull her into a hug.
Our kids have been super close growing up, and her kids are like an extension of my own. This hurts us too as does the massive fallout Oli and Henry have had, which is clearly connected.
“Sorry.” She swipes at the tears still falling down her face while grabbing a tissue from her purse. “I can’t stop crying. I’m so worried about him, and I hate the thought of spying on my son, but we’re desperate.”
“Let me try Henry one final time. If I have your permission, I’ll tell him about the arrest; that might prompt him to come clean. He’s got to know what’s going on.”
“It’s like you’re a mind reader.” She smiles sadly. “I came here to ask you that.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Abby. I mentioned Oli yesterday, and he clammed up and got angry as usual. But I’ll ask. I’ll try to get him to tell me what’s going on.”