Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
Lillian
I take another spin in the mirror, scrutinizing my reflection for any imperfections. I picked out a lilac sheath dress for the event. It hugs my curves, but not too closely, and stretches down past my knees. Its loose sleeves touch my elbows, and not a hint of cleavage can be seen. My body looks nice in this, not too provocative. I’m aiming for a balance between hot young wife and capable partner.
I look over my shoulder into the mirror and study my ass. No visible panty lines. Good. I don’t want any pictures catching the outline of my thong. Then I face the mirror and fluff out my hair. Today, it’s been coaxed into healthy waves. I’ve never seen it with so much body, but since Charlie assigned a hairdresser to me, I’ve been getting surprise after surprise.
Did I always look like this?
More and more, I’m looking like a billionaire’s wife.
My fresh manicure matches the lilac of my dress. I’m starting to notice he dresses me in spring pastels. I can’t complain, either. I get stuck looking at myself in the mirror if I don’t have anything else to do. Not that I’m vain! I’ve just never felt this way in my life.
Charlie—
“Lillian!!”
His firm voice holds a warning as it floats up the stairs. I grab my cream bag from atop the polished chest at the foot of my bed and rush out, careful not to slip in my matching cream heels.
Ever since I moved in, Charlie’s been able to command me easily. Not outwardly, for sure, but my heart obeys him. That stern note in his voice sways me so fast, and I have to fight against the inclination to obey as soon as he wants me.
I think he fucked the rebelliousness out of me.
There I was, holding on to my dignity with every last ounce of strength I could muster, and then it was all gone the moment his hot mouth claimed my core.
An electric shiver stabs through me at the thought.
I want him again, feasting on my body, claiming every part of me.
I groan inwardly at how cringe I’ve become and swallow those feelings down for now. Today is our first rally together, and I need to be in the right frame of mind. Hundreds of eyes will be on me today, expecting me to be Charlie’s perfect bride-to-be.
I better live up to the hype.
As I click into the foyer, Charlie is reading over what looks like a greeting card. His face is hard and scary, making me halt in my tracks mid-step. I don’t dare say a word, but he’s already heard me and looks up to find my eyes
“Going to make us late today?”
“No!” I quickly deny and fumble for my phone. I still have 10 minutes left, actually.
I look up in time to see him stashing the card beneath a stack of mail before setting it all on a nearby accent table. The emotion from before is gone, tucked under his mask. Usually, he regards his affairs so casually, even the campaign. It all seems neatly secure beneath his thumb.
I wonder what that card says. Did his mom send it?
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, walking up to me as he looks me over.
“I thought I had more time to get ready!” I lie. Well, that is true. I just don’t want him to get upset about the card again.
“I need time to inspect you, don’t I?” Charlie’s tone drops, his chocolate eyes lingering on my lips. My breath catches. I remember the kiss we shared, the one and only. It lasted so long, I thought I’d lost myself in it. I’ve been dreaming of his plush thick lips ever since then.
“So far, so good…” he continues, appraising me with indifference. “I’ll need to take a closer look.”
“A look at what?” I hear my voice come out small, and it annoys me. I want to be stronger. I clear my throat and square my shoulders. “I’ve done well for myself today, don’t you think?” There, that’s better, steadier. I raise my chin.
Charlie laughs and stoops to find the hem of my dress. He starts lifting it slowly, and I start to step in place, my hands pushing at his.
“Ch-Charlie! Cut it out! We have to leave, you’ll wrinkle my dress!”
“Let me see your panties,” he responds simply, batting my hands away as easily as if they were leaves. “I need to approve of them.”
“What?! And if you don’t, you’ll send me back upstairs to change, even if that makes us late?”
“Yes,” he says, inching my dress up my thighs now.
We’re like a couple of kids slapping at each other when I hear someone clear their throat. Charlie finally straightens to his full height, dropping the hem of my dress, and I push it back down below my knees.
“Ready to go, boss? Car’s waiting.”
It’s the guy who’s built like a brick outhouse, Tommy, waiting by the door. His face is blank. I expect him to give me some kind of look after almost catching a glimpse of my panties, but it’s like I’m not there. After Charlie assures him we’ll be right there, Tommy turns and leaves without another word, not even a glance at me.
Loyal guy.
“Alright, stop playing around. You got your things?” Charlie asks.
“Y-you! I’ve been ready!” I spit out.
“Then let’s go already.”
Charlie’s grin makes my heart flip.
“Crowd’ll be ready for you in 15, Mr. Carter,” a young man wearing a headset says before striding off. He’s just one of the many animated workers and volunteers we’ve encountered on the way to Charlie’s dressing room. We don’t need the room. Charlie already looks smart in his fitted navy button-down and dark slacks. There isn’t a hint of lint on him. His brown hair is slicked back, looking soft, not gelled. He looks like he should be leading a rally.
If I’m not looking at myself in the mirror, I’m looking at him.
I belong to this handsome man.
My cheeks warm at the thought.
“You ready for the event?” he asks briskly, raising his eyebrows at me. “I know this will be difficult for you, but you’ve got to try your best.”
My lips thin into a hard line, and I blink slowly at him.
“You told me I just have to stand there, smile, and look enthused about what you’re saying.”
“You can also look at me with admiration. But not too much. Find the right balance?—”
“I’ll be fine, Charlie,” I cut him off, annoyed.
“You’ll be at every event from now on, so you gotta set the right tone right from the start. Can you do that?”
“I’ll be fine. If I don’t think too much about it, it won’t bother me.” When I think about all those eyes on me, it does make me nervous. I start to chew on my lip, but Charlie snaps me out of it.
He’s groping at the hem of my dress.
“Quick, let me see. I have a change for you in case?—”
“No, you don’t!” I slap his hand away, and he backs off for once. He straightens and puts his hands in his pockets, grinning down at me.
“You sure about that?”
I roll my eyes and change course. Let’s see how he likes it.
“You can’t see my panties, Charlie, or you’ll get hard. You want to go on stage with an erection?”
“Think that’s all it takes to get me hard?” He laughs derisively, looking and sounding every bit like a frat boy.
“You’re right,” I concede, stepping toward him. I palm his dick through his pants without warning, feeling the thickness of him. A familiar ache drags my attention to my core, but this is about him, not me.
I want to give him a taste of his own medicine.
“You should tell me what gets you hard. How else can I be a good wife to you someday?” I keep stroking him gently, slowly. I feel him react.
“You want me to tell you?” His low voice rumbles through his chest, sending shivers along my skin.
“Mmhm.” I dig into his fly, unzip, and find his dick within. He doesn’t move, just keeps looking down at me, the grin growing wider on his lips. “You need to tell me how you like it.”
“I need to?”
I wrap my hand around the stiffening thick length, savoring its warmth and power with my touch. Then I find myself dropping into a squat, wondering what he tastes like. I keep stroking him, my eyes locked on his.
I bite my lip and nod.
“Don’t you want me to be good for you?”
“Stop doing that. You’ll ruin your lipstick.”
“It’s a smudge-proof lipstick with a gloss over the top. I can just apply it again,” I explain quickly, dropping the lustful look in my eyes before picking it back up again. “Don’t worry about that now.”
Charlie laughs at me. I squeeze his shaft, then guide him through his fly. I quickly latch on and suck his tip. That cuts his laugh short. He sucks in a sharp breath and shifts his hips back.
“Not like that, don’t just go so hard like that. Be gentle—aah. Yeah, like that. Go slow, nice and steady.”
I glide him in and out of my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head as he slides out. He watches me, hands still in his pocket, his eyelids growing heavy.
“Goood, like that.”
“How about my hands?” I murmur, then lick his tip like a popsicle. He’s so hard now, and it’s getting me wet. “I’m going to be on stage wet at this point.”
Wait, did I say that out loud?
“Oh? Prove it.”
“No. You’re the one who wants to show everyone your erection.” I take him back into my mouth, challenging myself to see how deeply I can take him.
“That’s what I said?” His voice is getting husky, his breathing labored. I let my eyes close as I service him, enjoying the feel of him sliding in and out, the little sounds he makes as I find his sensitive spots.
“You want my hands?”
“Just your mouth for now.”
“We don’t have time for you to come, you know.”
“That depends on you, doesn’t it?” He chuckles, then, seemingly remembering himself, finally extracts his hands from his pockets. “Alright, alright, that’s enough.” He says it gently, seizing my heart.
I don’t want to stop.
He pushes against my forehead, but I keep going, moaning in protest along his dick. That makes him grunt and falter, so I keep it up, letting my moans stimulate him, too.
“Lillian,” he sighs out. “That’s enough.”
I take a deep breath, then ease him back into my mouth, inch by inch, striving to reach the base. I hear him suck in a breath and feel his hand on the back of my head. He wants to push into my throat. I try to open up for him, moaning in anticipation?—
Charlie pushes me off, but not roughly.
“Don’t get carried away,” he scolds. He turns from me to grab some tissue and dab at himself, still stiff.
I want him to slide into me. For a moment, I think about hitching up my dress, but there’s no way we have time.
Shit, what’s become of me?
I stand up and tend to him, too, looking him over for wet spots. Good thing he wore dark pants.
“Don’t—” he warns.
“I’m not. Just trying to help.”
When he looks at me, he’s all business, but I am, too.
I dispose of the used tissues and focus on putting myself together, making sure I didn’t soak through my dress. By the time I’m reapplying my gloss, the young man returns with a knock on the door.
“We’re ready for you, Mr. Carter,” he says with finality.
“Ready?” Charlie looks at me, properly tucked away and deflated. That was fast.
“Ready.”
With a curt nod, he reaches out to take my hand. I slide it into his, my engagement ring catching the light, and I take a deep breath, ready to take my position by his side on the stage.
This is the start of forever.