27. Let’s try this again
CHAPTER 27
LET’S TRY THIS AGAIN
EMMA
I hope there never comes a day where Charlie stops surprising me.
Tonight, I open the door and find him in a trilby and a trench coat, like he’s Humphrey Bogart.
As he leans in, his dark wood and spice cologne makes my knees weak.
“Evening,” he says, low and sultry. “Name’s Charlie. I’ll be looking after you tonight.”
It’s hot and ridiculous, and I have to stop myself from jumping him in the hallway. At least none of my neighbors are around.
I wave him inside, then I lock the door behind him and lean against it, tugging him in by the coat's belt loops. “Come here, Nancy Drew. Let me take your coat.”
The hat goes first. As good as it looks—and it really has no right looking so good—it’s a crime to cover up that hair.
Slowly, I slip the ends of the belt free, the quiet sound mingling with our breaths. He’s watching me, standing close enough to kiss, arms by his sides. His attention is like a drug, making me high, tearing away my inhibitions.
It also makes me want to curl up beside him and never let go.
I keep my attention on the buttons as I undo them, one by one. The fine make of the coat is clear as I study it. Good stitching, a little wear and tear.
Vintage. Possibly from the ’60s.
Interesting.
“What is it?” Charlie asks softly.
On a hunch, I abandon the buttons and inspect the lapel, confirming it’s double stitched.
“Emm—”
“Shh, I’m trying to work,” I whisper, enjoying the soft feel of worn cotton and the heat radiating from his body.
In my periphery, his grin grows, and my own smile softly settles. I run my hands down his chest. Double breasted. Peak lapels. Plaid interior. The color’s faded, but the coat is well looked after. I bet the label still has the original ‘s’.
It’s definitely original. Burberry. Like everything else, it suits him.
When I look up, I realize how close we’ve drifted. I only need to tilt my chin up for our noses to brush.
A little closer, and I could kiss him.
Curling my fingers around his collar, I fight the urge to lean in. This was my one rule.
Clear. Concise. Smart.
“Ready, sweetheart?” His voice is dangerously soft. It sends butterflies skittering around my stomach, which is exactly why I need to get us back on track.
“Are you?” I challenge, arching a brow.
His grin grows wide. “Always.”
Every step toward my bed sends my pulse higher. Along the way, Charlie loses the coat, leaving him in a black shirt and pants. The tie is already gone, his collar devilishly open, his bare skin beckoning me.
He takes his time stripping me out of my clothes and underwear, keeping his touch light. I bite back my impatience and wait for his next move.
He has a plan for tonight, and I do love a good plan.
A thrill rushes through me when he pulls fabric cuffs from his bag.
There are four, two more than I’ve used before, and I’m saying “please” before he can even ask.
“All of them?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Naughty girl,” he teases with a wink. “Lie down.”
It takes all my self-control not to scramble onto the bed, but I do as he asks.
The cuffs are infinitely soft, gliding like crushed velvet over my wrists, igniting sparks beneath my skin. He’s firm and methodical as he straps me in, my arms and legs stretched out, taut but not pulled, bound to each corner of the bed frame.
It’s perfect.
He stands, taking in the sight of me, growling the way his car does. “Fuck, Emma. Just look at you.”
I’ve never been this turned on in my life.
“You should be doing more than just looking at me,” I say, chest heaving with anticipation.
“Bossy. Would you like to take over?”
I almost say yes.
But I want to see what he has in store. “No, that’s not… Please, Charlie.”
“I’m going to take care of you. Say no anytime, and we stop.”
I nod.
“I told you I had a plan, and it’s this.” He holds his phone in one hand and a pair of headphones in the other. “Now, you sent me a spicy little audio clip last night. Do you remember?”
My mouth runs dry. “Yes.”
“You sounded so good coming for me. Do you know what I did?”
“Tell me,” I plead.
“I filmed myself getting off while I listened to it.”
Oh, fuck.
I squirm in pleasure, whimpering as my pussy clenches in the cool air.
“Is that something you want to hear?”
God, yes. Why haven’t I ever thought of this before? “Please.”
“Good, okay. I also thought we could use this.” He sets the headphones on the bed, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silk sleep mask. My mind races two steps ahead, and my clit throbs.
“I already have blindfolds.”
“Are they as nice as this?” he challenges. “Lift your head.”
I do.
As he slips it over my eyes, my lips part with a gasp. The mask blocks out the light and his eyes, but his deep, seductive scent keeps me calm, even as fireworks explode in my belly. He’s barely touched me, and I’m already dripping.
“How do you feel?”
So, so good.
“Gonna need a verbal, sweetheart.”
I can hear him smiling, the little shit, but I’m so damn turned on it’s hard to do anything but moan. “Good, Charlie. It feels really good.”
His touch is still infuriatingly light as he draws his fingers along my skin, from my elbows, up my arms, brushing my neck. I stretch up, trying to get more of his touch, pulling the cuffs tight, only for him to pull away and start over.
He’s taking great pleasure in drawing this out. I want to interrupt. Take over. Take charge.
I hold my tongue.
After several more seconds pass, I have to say something, have to know what is going on.
“Charlie,” I whine.
“Yes?”
He’s such a tease.
“I want more.”
His hand stills.
There’s nothing but the sound of our breaths and the heat of him. He’s close, but I can’t tell where. The air between us is heavy. I’m ready to tear out of these binds, throw him down on the floor, and demand what I want. But all I can do is flex my fists and wait.
Then he’s touching me again, ghosting the same soft caress between my breasts. I groan in frustration, and when Charlie chuckles in response, I scowl behind the blindfold.
I shiver as his mouth brushes my ear and he whispers, “You’re not in charge right now, sweetheart.”
“If I was, this would be going a lot faster,” I grumble.
He hums, pleased, kissing my jaw, mouthing along my neck.
“You’re being very methodical about this,” I rasp, my voice catching as he sucks a bruise along my collarbone.
“Haven’t you heard it’s about the journey, not the destination?”
He circles his tongue around my nipple and gives it a wet kiss, then moves to the other.
I arch my back, needing more of his mouth. “Someone made that up so we’d all pretend to enjoy long, cramped plane rides. Not sex.”
He chuckles, low and deep, and it rumbles through my stomach as he moves lower. When he presses his lips to the inside of my thigh, there’s no stopping the whimper that escapes me. His breath ghosts hot over my aching pussy. He’s so close.
Another kiss, higher this time. My pulse picks up. I want to thrust forward into his mouth, force his lips to my clit, but I can’t.
“If you’re always in a rush to get to the end,” he says, his voice gravel, “you miss the best part.”
He’s slow and tender as he teases my clit. I whimper. The shiver that passes through me is seismic, hitting at least an eight on the Richter scale, and tremors follow with every pass of his tongue.
Fuck.
I’m hungry. Starved. Eager.
And he’s feeding me.
“Charlie,” I whine, gripping the sheet. “Oh, fuck, your mouth.”
“Good?”
I’m panting. “You know it is.”
“Keep going. I like hearing you praise me.”
“If you even think about stopping, praise is the last thing you’ll get.”
He moans low, and it’s the last thing I hear before he fits the headphones over my ears.
At first, all I hear is my own breathing, heavy and slow, broken by little whimpers I swear I’ve never made before, and I’m suddenly glad for the mask. Heat races to my cheeks as I listen to myself, remembering the slow circles I drew around my clit last night.
Thank god I’m not a talker. Hearing my own voice played back to me might be a mood killer.
Charlie’s voice, though…
“Listen to you,” he purrs in my ears, clear as a bell and fucking sexy. “I bet you have no idea how many times I’ve gotten off to this.”
I want to try something, he said. Something I think you’ll like.
He’s right.
The Charlie in my ears groans, and the sound goes straight to my clit.
The whole point of this arrangement is to focus on my pleasure. But I can’t help it. I enjoy seeing my partner getting off. I love being the reason for it. The thick, hard outline of Charlie’s cock straining his pants has been on my mind since I first saw it.
I’ve imagined him at home, pulling his cock out, coming to the memory of me. It’s what I was picturing when I recorded myself.
The sound of his zipper is practically obscene. “Fuck,” he says.
A moan claws its way out of me, causing my back to arch along with it, because I can hear it, the slick slide of his hand as he strokes himself.
“I love hearing you come,” he says, deep and raspy, just like I knew he’d sound. I never want him to stop talking.
Fuck, I wish I could see him. I bet he’s huge. Long and thick. Powerful. How wet does he get? Is he cut? Does he like a full stroke, or does he prefer it fast with a twist over the head?
I bet he has a beautiful cock.
Pretty, like the rest of him. If any man on earth could have a pretty dick, it’d be Charlie.
I want to taste it.
“Fuck,” I gasp out, the sound muffled, overtaken by the Charlie in my ears, whose strokes are getting faster now.
The slick sound of him fisting himself is loud, but it’s the hitches in his breath, the whispered “ah, fuck” that sets me on fire.
Between my spread thighs, Charlie sucks on my clit.
I convulse with pleasure, pulling the restraints tight. I’m at his mercy, bared and open. He could do anything he wanted right now, and I’d be forced to take it.
He could feast on me for hours or leave me hanging, tied up and waiting, until he comes back for more.
Never letting me come.
With two fingers, he thrusts deep inside me, his tongue still circling my clit.
“Please,” I beg, overwhelmed by a wave of ecstasy, desperate. “Please don’t stop.”
I can still picture him, on his knees, licking me open. Those cunning blue eyes looking up at me, taking in everything.
The Charlie in my ears is getting close, getting louder, his hand moving faster now, his voice rough. “I hope you’re not finished yet,” he goads. “I’m not nearly done with you. Maybe I’ll keep you there all night, wake you with my fingers or my tongue when I need another taste. But you can’t come yet. Can you do that, sweetheart? Can you hold off for me?”
Holy. Shit.
Like some sexual Uno reverse card, Charlie’s order to hold back only gets me closer, turns me on more, and I’m suddenly rocketing toward the edge.
And it’s so very fucking good.
“Fuck,” he growls. “I wish you were here. You would look beautiful painted in my cum.”
He finishes with a groan, the sound pulsating through my body over the fast slap of his hand and my own quieter orgasm playing underneath.
It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard. I’m on the edge, so close to coming. Right here, right now, with the sound of Charlie in my ears and his tongue between my legs.
But I need to see him. I need to look into his eyes when it happens.
I twist and pull at the cuffs. “Stop, Charlie. Please. I need to see you. God, please let me see you.”
The headphones and mask are ripped away, and he’s hovering over me. Fuck. His mouth is slick and red, his chin glistening.
“Do it,” I command. “You promised me you could. So show me.” With my hands and feet tied, all I can do is push my hips against him. “Make me come.”
He growls again, then he’s on me, licking deep into my pussy, his eyes locked on mine. That’s all it takes to send me hurtling over the edge, screaming out and shaking as it finally happens.
I almost cry with relief.
My orgasm racks my body over and over and over, each new wave making me writhe and whimper uncontrollably. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, sucking my clit between his teeth and pulling more and more pleasure from me.
It’s incredible, relief and pleasure and want exploding all at once, with Charlie at the center of it all.
“Ah, fuck, fuck.” My voice breaks, my heart pounding in my chest. But I’m not done. “Charlie, I swear. If you don’t have your dick out in five seconds, I’m never speaking to you again.”
Without even a heartbeat of hesitation, he unzips and shoves his pants down, pulling his cock out.
Finally, finally , I get to see him.
He’s huge. Thick, uncut. Wet at the tip. And beautifully, wonderfully hard.
I was right; his cock is gorgeous.
I moan, my clit throbbing. I might come again just from looking at him.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, taking himself in his hand, and yes . It’s exactly what I’ve wanted.
I’m transfixed. Pleasuring himself on my command. Muscle, power, strength… enough that he could take what he wants. I’m completely bound. I couldn’t stop him. But instead of taking, he’s giving me this.
It’s better than I imagined, even though I can’t touch. His face is flushed as his cock slides in and out of his fist.
Goddamn, if it isn’t impossible to look away from him right now.
I can’t even move, and yet I feel like the one in control. I’m giddy with it.
“I want to see you come, Charlie. All over my stomach. Give it to me.”
“Fuck.” He throws his head back with a groan, bucking up into his fist, the muscles in his neck straining as he spills over, onto his hand, my belly, my thigh. Like a shockwave, his pleasure washes over me, and I close my eyes, already wishing we could do it again.
Plan A was good. Now I want to see plan B. Let’s see them all.
As my heart rate slows, I force my eyes open and find Charlie on the bed beside me. He releases one wrist from its cuff and rubs circles against my skin. I sink into his touch, my entire body loose, my strings cut in every sense as he removes the rest.
My mind is hazy, floating in the fading cloud of lust, and I reach out for him, needing more. But instead of skin, he’s zipped up.
Job done. Ready to leave.
“Good plan?” he whispers, brushing my hair back.
I can’t help myself. Things will change tomorrow, but it’s not tomorrow yet. Maybe I can keep being a little selfish.
He lets me pull him closer. If I had any energy left, I think I’d kiss him.
“Great plan,” I say. “Exceeded,” and sleep is already starting to take me, “all of my expectations.”