Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Ben woke to soft gray light filtering through Charlie's bedroom curtains and the warm weight of her body pressed against his side.
I want you to stay.
After they'd made love, after she'd come apart in his arms three times, she'd curled into him and whispered those five beautiful words like she was afraid he might disappear in the night.
Not a chance in hell, Princess.
Now she was sound asleep, her hair spilling across his chest, one leg thrown over his thigh. Her breathing was slow and even and her expression was the most peaceful he’d ever seen on her face.
Ben carefully shifted so he could see her better. Without that professional mask she wore during the day, she looked younger. Softer. Her lips were slightly parted, her lashes dark crescents against her cheeks.
My Princess.
Charlie stirred, making a small sound. Her hand slid across his chest and lower over the top sheet, brushing against his morning erection.
Ben sucked in a breath.
Charlie opened her eyes slowly. Hazel eyes, still hazy with sleep, focused on his face. A slow smile curved her lips.
“Morning,” she said, her voice rough.
“Morning, Princess.” Ben tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sleep okay?”
“Best sleep I've ever had.” Her hand was still resting dangerously close to his cock tenting the sheet. She had to see how hard he was. “You?”
“Same.”
Charlie's smile turned wicked. She shifted her hand deliberately, cupping his cock over the thin sheet. “Is this for me?” She licked her lips.
Ben groaned. “You don't have to—”
“I want to.” She pushed herself up on one elbow, and looked down at him. Her breasts were bare, nipples tight with excitement, he hoped. “I wanted to last night, but you wouldn't let me.”
“Last night was about you.”
“And this morning is about you.” Charlie threw back the sheet and Ben's cock stood at attention, hard and aching.
She wrapped her hand around his shaft and stroked once. Ben's hips jerked involuntarily.
“Sensitive,” Charlie said, echoing his words from last night. Her smile was pure satisfaction.
She leaned down and licked the tip of his cock. Ben's hands fisted in the sheets.
“Charlie—”
“Relax, Ben. Let me take care of you now. It’s my turn.” She took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head.
The wet heat was almost too much. Ben groaned, one hand moving to tangle in her hair. “Fuck.”
Charlie made a satisfied sound that vibrated his cock. She took him deeper, her hand stroking the base. She found a rhythm that made his toes curl as pleasure built at the base of his spine.
“Not gonna last,” Ben managed. “You're too good at this.”
Charlie pulled off with a wet pop. “Good.” She stroked him faster. “I want to watch you come.”
The combination of her hand and those words sent him over the edge. Ben came with a groan, spilling across his stomach as Charlie worked him through it.
When he finally caught his breath, Charlie was grinning at him.
“Satisfied?” she asked.
Ben pulled her up for a kiss. “Very. But now I need to return the favor.”
“You don't have to—”
“I want to.” Ben rolled them over until Charlie was on her back beneath him. He kissed down her neck, her chest, stopping to lavish attention on her breasts.
Charlie arched into his mouth, her hands in his hair.
Ben continued his path downward, kissing across her belly, her hip bones, the inside of her thighs. When he spread her legs, she was already wet.
“And is all this for me?” Ben teased.
“Getting you off got me hot.” Charlie's cheeks flushed pink. “That okay?”
“That's perfect.” Ben settled between her thighs. “Now spread your legs wider, Princess. I'm hungry.”
He started slowly this time, long licks through her folds, circling her clit without directly touching it. Teasing. Learning every sound she made, every twitch and gasp that told him what she liked.
When he finally sucked her clit into his mouth, Charlie cried out.
“Yes. Right there. Don't stop,” she gasped.
Ben had no intention of stopping. He worked her methodically, building her pleasure stroke by stroke, lick by lick.
“Ben, I'm close—”
He increased the pressure and Charlie came with a sharp cry, her thighs clamping around his head. Ben gentled his touch but didn't stop until she pushed at his shoulders, oversensitive.
He crawled back up her body and kissed her deeply. Charlie wrapped her arms and legs around him.
“Again,” she whispered against his mouth. “I want you inside me again.”
Ben's spent cock twitched with interest. “Give me a minute.”
“We have time.” Charlie ran her hands down his back to his ass, pulling him closer. “We have all morning.” She looked at him shyly through her lashes. “I have all week, actually. If you’re interested in spending it with me.”
If he was interested? God, she was killing him.
No work, no obligations, nothing but each other and this bed and the gray morning light turning gold.
“I am. Just try and keep me away.”
Ben kissed her slowly, thoroughly, letting his body recover while he explored hers. He mapped every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot that made her gasp or moan.
By the time he was hard again, Charlie was writhing beneath him.
“Please,” she begged. “Ben, I need you.”
He positioned himself at her entrance. “Tell me what you need, Princess.”
“You. Deep. Hard. Everything. All of it.”
Ben pushed inside her in one smooth thrust. They both groaned at the same time.
“So wet,” Ben said. “So perfect for me.”
He set a steady rhythm, hitting deep with every stroke. Charlie met him thrust for thrust, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“Want to feel you come around me, baby.”
Within seconds she was gasping, trembling on the edge.
“That's it. Come for me, Princess. Let me feel it. I’ve got you.”
She clenched around him as she came, and that was all it took. Ben thrust deep one final time and followed her over. He’d never come so hard.
“I should take care of Flo,” Charlie said without moving.
“In a minute.” Ben pulled her closer. “Just want to hold you a little longer.”
Charlie snuggled into his chest. “Okay. A little longer.”
Ben insisted on making Charlie breakfast.
“No, it’s rude of me to have you over and not cook for you.” She tried to reach past him for a pan on the stove.
Ben laughed as he grabbed her wrist gently. “As if I didn’t want to be here.” He kissed her and patted her ass. “Go. Take Flo for a walk, wash your hair, watch TV, whatever you want to do.”
“I want to make you breakfast.”
“Anything except that.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Let me spoil you.”
Her eyes turned misty and she blinked hard. She was clearly—clearly—not used to being spoiled.
All that was about to change.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Anything for you.”
She smiled and turned.
“And, Charlie?”
She looked back at him. “Yeah?”
“Just so you know, making breakfast for you is not spoiling you. That’s baseline care in my book.”
She bit her lower lip as she looked away.
He thought he heard her say, not in mine as she left the kitchen.
Charlie took Flo for a quick walk. Ben loved hearing her talking to the dog before and after. She hadn’t had Flo for long, and already she was her baby. And it was clear that Flo loved her right back. She wagged her tail as Charlie sat on the floor with her, scratching her ears.
“Did you have a dog growing up? Ben asked.
“No.”
“Cats?”
Charlie paused. “No pets.” She stood up and walked to the kitchen table.
Dammit. He’d stepped in it somehow.
Charlie settled down to sketch at her kitchen table while Ben fried half a dozen eggs and baked a pound of bacon on a sheet pan in the oven.
He sneaked peeks at her as he cooked. She was completely focused on her drawing, but the intensity of her gaze left her looking peaceful.
All of the tension from just a few minutes before had melted away.
She tilted her head and smiled down at the paper, and started humming.
Ben took that as satisfaction with her work.
I could do this for the rest of my life.
Only, he pictured Charlie in the Victorian he’d so carefully restored. He’d set up one of the spare bedrooms—the one that got the best light—as her studio. Or even build her one beside his forge.
Whatever his Princess wanted.
When the toast popped up, Charlie looked up, then cleared off the table and set all her art supplies on the coffee table in front of the couch. She appeared in the kitchen a minute later.
“Let me at least set the table.” She pulled plates down from a shelf beside the fridge.
“Set those on the counter and go sit,” Ben said with a smile. “Do I have to teach you how to be spoiled?”
Charlie actually giggled. “Maybe?”
“Well, I will.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “For as long as it takes.”
Her eyes went misty again, and Ben could only wonder to himself.
Who hurt you so badly, Charlie?
While they ate breakfast, Ben’s curious gaze kept drifting to the sketchbook on the coffee table. He’d only seen one sketch and the drawing of the St. Vrain the night before. Charlie tilted her head.
“I can’t wait to see what else you’ve done. If it’s all right?”
She grinned as she fed Flo a piece of bacon under the table. “Sure,” she said quietly. She slid the sketchbook across the coffee table toward him.
Ben considered it a victory.
He turned the pages slowly, careful with them. They were landscapes. Mountains, mostly, and several of the St. Vrain, the peaks above Lyons, and a sweeping panorama of the Front Range. All of it was rendered with the same quiet precision she brought to everything else she did.
"These are extraordinary, Charlie."
She ducked her head over her coffee. "They're just rough sketches."
"No," he said. "They're not. They’re beautiful."
They loaded Charlie's art supplies and Flo into Ben's truck. As they were closing the tailgate, Mrs. Calhoun appeared on her balcony with a watering can.