Sugar

by Seressia Glass

  The first warm contact of his tongue along her opening had her groaning aloud, her hands scrabbling along the desk’s surface for something to hold on to before reaching for the golden thickness of his hair. His fingers spread her outer lips open as he deepened the intimate contact, tasting her fully. A fleeting thought entered her mind—her ex-husband Mike saying he’d enjoyed going down on her like this. But Charlie . . . Charlie savored her, his lips grazing along her slit in a slow exploration that sent her senses reeling and her body sizzling, her breath shortened by each pass of his tongue.

  Charlie’s hair tickled her thighs as he thrust his tongue deep inside her, deeper than she’d thought possible, fucking her. She moaned again, his name a breath on her lips as she ground her hips up against his mouth, wanting everything he had to give her. He devoured her as if she were his favorite dessert, swirling his tongue around her swollen clit before sweeping deep into her core then down to the rosette of her anus, laving her there before reversing his path.

  He drove her high, higher, up into a lightning storm of sensation. She held on for as long as she could, wanting to draw out the pleasure, the electric brightness of balancing on the edge of coming. Then he thrust two fingers inside her, stroking, stroking as he flicked his tongue against her clitoris. In and up and deep he stroked her channel while his mouth teased her clit with licks and suckles. Good, so very good, so good she could feel her skin tightening, her body quivering as it gathered the energy to come.

  “Charlie,” she gasped. “Charlie, please . . .”

  He knew what she wanted, knew what she needed. Fingers plunging, driving pleasure with the flick, flick, flick of his tongue before he closed his mouth over her clit and sucked.

  She shrieked as her orgasm broke, her hands tugging on his hair as her thighs clamped around his head. Her back bowed off the desk, her pussy grinding against his fingers and his mouth as the orgasm barreled through her then rolled her under again.

  He didn’t move away from her immediately, not Charlie. Instead, he brought her down slowly with gentle kisses and touches until her sensitized flesh protested. Only then did he rise to his feet. She rose to her elbows, her desire blunted but not extinguished. There was only one thing that would take care of that.

  His features tight with restrained hunger, Charlie reached into his back pocket for his wallet, opened it, then extracted a condom. Placing the foil packet on her belly, he tossed the wallet aside, then opened his khakis, shoving them and his dark red briefs down his hips.

  “I want to see you,” Siobhan said, voice thick with renewed desire. “Let me see you.”

  Without a word, Charlie pulled his shirt off over his head, revealing his gorgeous tanned torso, the light scattering of dark blond hair across his chest leading down the defined abdominals to the thickheaded cock jutting proudly. She licked her lips as her mouth watered at the sight of him.

  He wrapped one large hand around his erection, a slow stroke from root to tip. “I’ve fantasized about your mouth on my cock for days,” he told her, his voice rough with desire. “You lying there licking your lips like that’s the best idea ever tempts me to make that fantasy a reality.”

  He cupped her mound. “But now that I’ve tasted you, I’m hungry for more. The first time I come with you, I want my cock to be right here, inside you.” He reached for the condom, opened it, then rolled it on. “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”

  Ready for him? She didn’t think she’d ever be ready for Charlie, but she was ready for this moment, ready to feel him moving inside her, ready to give him at least some of the decadent pleasure he’d given her.

  “Yes . . . oh.” Words failed her as he pressed his cock against her. Charlie dragged the head along her slit, then very slowly and methodically filled her. The pressure, the fullness, the inexorable charge took her over.

  “Ah, fuck, Siobhan, that feels so good.” He gripped her knees as he bottomed out inside her. “So damn good, better than I imagined.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him, watched him stand there, eyes sliding closed, pleasure breaking over his face as he savored the moment of finally being inside her. She savored it too, feeling every inch of his possession, feeling her body stretch to accommodate him, welcome him. Then he withdrew, a slow drag along her inner walls until only the tip remained inside her. Slow in, slow out, making every blood-pumping moment of it a body-tingling experience.

  She sighed, her body going liquid for him. “Charlie.”

  His eyes blinked open and he smiled at her, a smile at once sweet and full of sensual promise. “Love seeing you like this, your beautiful body spread for me, your pussy all wet and pink like rain-covered tulips because I gave you pleasure and made you come.”

  “I want you to come too.”

  He chuckled, the vibration of it echoing down to where he connected with her. “I will, babe, I promise you that.” Another slow thrust and withdraw as he gave her a cheeky grin. “Now let’s see if we can make those sexy-as-hell tassels bounce.”

  He balanced her ankles on his shoulders as he leaned forward, hands splaying on the desk. Then he rolled his hips, his cock hitting her core in new, nerve-searing ways. He rocked into her with steady strokes, little shocks rippling through her body as her breasts bounced with each thrust. His gaze locked to hers as he completely focused on giving and receiving pleasure.

  Oh, nice. Better than nice. Her inner muscles massaged his length, pulling a shuddering sigh from him. “You’re trying to break my control when it’s taking everything I’ve got to not slam into you like I’m in a demolition derby.”

  She dropped her legs down to encircle his waist. “It’ll take more than this to break me. Slam away.”

  Fire blazed in his eyes as Charlie let himself off the chain. He gripped her hips and began to move, pistoning in and out of her, stroke after stroke. Siobhan teased her breasts with one hand, the other snaking down between their colliding bodies. She had never been a multiple-orgasms-in-one-session type of girl, but Charlie’s masterful handling of her body demanded her response and she was powerless against it.

  For a moment he just watched her fingers stroke over his cock then her clit, his mouth slack. “God, Siobhan, God,” he breathed, then clamped his hands on her hips. He drove into her, spurred her higher and higher, heat and passion colliding.

  The office filled with the sounds of their bodies slapping together, their mingled moans, the desk scraping against the floor. Siobhan threw her hips up, meeting each violent stroke, wild with need, her inner muscles clenching down on him, her fingers swirling over her clit, crazed with the need to come.

  Her orgasm struck like a lightning bolt, throwing her over the edge. She cried out as her body tightened around him. Charlie gripped her shoulders and began to pound into her at a breakneck pace, the scrape of the desk across the floor as loud as the rush of blood in her ears. She bowed off the desk, her body blazing with the rush of his powerful strokes, his absolute possession, his delivery of the best sex of her life.

  His fingers dug into her shoulders as he pulled her upright, pistoning into her faster than she’d have thought possible. She entwined her arms around his neck just before his mouth slammed down on hers. One, two, three more violent strokes, then he stiffened, his entire body shuddering with the force of his orgasm, her name a guttural groan on his lips.

  Instead of immediately pulling away he gripped her ass, holding her close as he collapsed back onto the chair, still buried deep inside her. He rained soft kisses onto her cheeks, her lips, the crook of her neck before resting his cheek against her cleavage. “You are amazing. And that was the most epic apology ever.”

  * * *

  Charlie almost tightened his grip when Siobhan attempted to lift off his lap, especially since her soft laughter made those bright blue tassels swing in a hypnotic way. Instead, he contented himself with letting his hands slide down her full curves as she regained her feet. Good God, he could revel in her lushness all damn da
y, but not in a spent condom. “Can I ask you something?”

  She tossed him a smile as she reached for her G-string. “You just did.”

  “Another question then.” He grabbed a tissue from the container on the worktable, then took care of the condom. After tucking himself back into his pants and retrieving his shirt, he gestured between them as she stepped into the flesh-colored scrap then the blue lace panties. “Your outfit. Those moves, the nipple covers. Were you a stripper or a Vegas showgirl before you became a café owner?”

  “No.” She shrugged into her bra, and he mourned the loss of his spectacular view. “For the last couple of years I’ve been a member of the Crimson Bay Bombshells. It’s a burlesque troupe.”

  “Burlesque?” He frowned for just a moment, then recalled several videos he’d seen online. “Oh, burlesque. You do that?”

  “Yeah.” The belt went on next. “I perform as Sugar Malloy. We have a show at Club Tatas one weekend a month, but we’ve been talking about adding another show or moving to a different venue since our audience is growing.”

  A burlesque performer. Everything made sense then. The retro clothes, makeup, and hairstyle, the corset, and the sizzling striptease. “You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

  She laughed as she gathered her stockings, taking a seat in the chair. “Well this gift has given all she can today and is close to being late to rehearsal.”

  “Let me help.” He knelt in front of her.

  “I can dress myself, you know,” she said, but held the stockings out.

  “You most certainly can.” One by one he rolled the stockings up her shapely legs, then took his time figuring out how to clip them into place before helping her on with her shoes. “But I’m fascinated and turned on by helping you. And this gives me the chance to touch you. Besides, you did say I’d end up on my knees in gratitude. Consider me extremely grateful.”

  He stood, reaching for her waist cincher. “Do you have different costumes when you perform?”

  She rose. “Most of them run the frilly lacy route, but I do have a couple of specialty ones,” she answered, holding the corset in place while he hooked the front, then turning so he could tighten the laces at the back. His blonde bombshell transformed into a sex goddess again. “A raincoat one, a couple of leather ones, and one I call Little Miss Lollipop that involves colored sugar. I’m also working on a multi-dancer act to ‘Fat Bottomed Girls,’ which is what we’re rehearsing tonight.”

  “Good God, woman, I think you’re trying to kill me.” He held the dress up so she could slip it on. A mental image of Siobhan in leather holding a belt or paddle sent blood racing to his cock. So did the idea of her and colored sugar, or showing off her delectable bottom. “When is your next show?”

  “In two weeks.” Her brows crinkled. “Are you planning on coming to the show?”

  “Would you have a problem with that?” He knelt at her feet again to begin fastening the snap closures on her dress. “Now that we’ve had sex you don’t want me to see you dance, or would my presence impede your interacting with your other admirers?”

  “Hey!” She thumped him on the shoulder to get his attention. “You really think I’d let you fuck me stupid on my desk if I were doing someone else?”

  Oh, the flash of irritation on her beautiful face, her breasts rising and falling with each indignant breath fired his blood. Maybe he could make a special request and have her break out the leather. All she needed was a paddle or a crop and he’d bend over and take it like a man if it pleased her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, pressing a kiss to her thigh before closing her dress over it. “Unfortunately my dick sometimes does the thinking when it comes to you.”

  She harrumphed, settling her hands on her hips. “Well tell him to stop.”

  “I’ll try, ma’am.” He grinned up at her as he fastened the snaps up to her waist. “But he can get awfully hardheaded at times. Maybe a little discipline would help.”

  Her eyes widened momentarily, then shuttered to half-mast. “You have been a naughty boy, haven’t you?” she asked, her voice low and husky as she cupped his cheek. “Perhaps you do need a little discipline, especially since you look so damn hot kneeling there, helping me dress.”

  “I can help you undress too.”

  “Duly noted. Is that what you want, Charlie? To submit to me?”

  “To do whatever you want, whether that’s obeying a command, getting disciplined, or screwing you hard against a wall.” He shifted to ease the pressure on his revived cock. “If it pleases you and I get to have you as my reward, I’ll try just about anything.”

  “Even if I want you to bend me over the desk, grab my hair, and fuck me stupid again?”

  He groaned. “Especially if you want me to do that.” He paused, staring up at her. “Shall I undress you?”

  She worked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I can’t be late tonight,” she answered, reluctance coating her tone, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to continuing this discussion tomorrow. At my place, say about four?”

  Her voice held a slight note of doubt to it at the end, as if she feared he’d say no. Like there was a chance in hell of that happening. Now that he’d staked his claim—and she’d staked hers, courtesy of that dance—he had no intention of letting her go easily.

  Rising to his feet, he backed her against the desk until he could reach the navy blue belt and clasp it around her waist, his lips grazing her throat, her cheek, then her lips. “Your wish is my command,” he whispered against her mouth. “Until tomorrow.”

  SEVEN

  Siobhan thought she’d made it through the day without revealing anything to Nadia or their staff. Today was Tuesday, however, and that meant a session of Bitch Talk, when she, Nadia, and their friends Vanessa Longfellow and Audie McNamara got together. It was part recovery group meeting, part therapy session, and all sisterly tough love.

  There were times when their weekly sessions were a lifeline. When she and Nadia had escaped from Los Angeles and come to Crimson Bay, they’d almost left when they’d discovered no support infrastructure for those in recovery from drug addiction. Instead, they had decided to establish a support group themselves, holding it on Tuesdays, their slowest day in the café. When business had picked up, they moved the support group to Saturday afternoons, with volunteers from Herscher University’s psychology department occasionally leading discussions. Tuesdays, however . . . Tuesdays were sacrosanct. No matter where they were or what they were doing, the four of them gathered to unwind and unburden.

  Vanessa and Audie arrived together, a study in contrasts. Vanessa was the epitome of grace and class—makeup perfectly applied to her bronze skin, not a wrinkle to her floral sundress, her dark mane pulled back into a sleek ponytail and designer shades perched atop her head. Her outward serenity hid a deep inner turmoil exacerbated by her parents’ relentless belief that she wasn’t perfect enough, successful enough, or just plain good enough for the Longfellow name. While Siobhan understood why her own parents had issues with her, she couldn’t understand why Vanessa’s parents weren’t happy with their daughter as she was—a dedicated volunteer, fund-raiser, administrator at the college, beautiful, caring.

  Where Vanessa was outwardly controlled, Audie was an unleashed force of nature. With red hair as vibrant as her personality, Audie was sexually liberated and proud of it. Audie’s problem was that her appetite for sex sometimes led her to make bad choices in partners—though she was militant about safe sex, she didn’t really care to learn her partners’ names before she took them to bed. She was the queen of one-night stands, an impressive feat in a town built around a progressive college. Though she’d had a date go horribly wrong a few weeks ago, Audie seemed none the worse for it, back to her old habits as far as Siobhan knew.

  Siobhan took her place at the table, her tea steeping in front of her. As always they started by reciting the Serenity Prayer. It was something Siobhan and Nadia had done at the rehabilitation facility they’d be
en in while in Los Angeles, and while they’d both rolled their eyes at the idea of asking God for anything—after all, He hadn’t given Siobhan her family back, hadn’t kept Nadia’s former manager from dying—eventually they took the intent of the prayer to heart.

  “Does anyone want to start?” Siobhan asked. They very loosely followed the meeting structure they’d been introduced to in rehab, especially with Vanessa and Audie battling different addictions. The main thing was that they felt free to share.

  “I’ll start,” Audie said, her usual coffee and muffin before her. “The district attorney finally made a decision on my assault case. Looks like we’re going to trial.”

  “That’s good news,” Vanessa exclaimed, then looked at the others. “Isn’t it?”

  Nadia wore a somber expression identical to Audie’s, and Siobhan was pretty sure hers matched theirs. One of Audie’s one-night stands had gone violently wrong, ending with her making a trip to the hospital. She’d pressed charges, but it had taken weeks for investigators to build the case, a source of constant anxiety for Audie, and by extension, the rest of them.

  “It is good news,” Siobhan said, wanting to assure Audie as much as Vanessa. “It’s a brave thing that Audie’s doing.”

  “What she means is, it’s a brave thing for someone with my reputation for sleeping around to do,” Audie said, no heat in her tone. “A fact that the defense attorney will more than likely attempt to bring up, according to my counselor, which is why I hired my own attorney.”

  “I’m glad you’re still seeing that counselor,” Nadia said, concern wreathing her face. “Did you get your legal advocate through them?”

  Audie nodded. “I wanted someone familiar with assault cases and victims. Though the defense can’t directly put my lifestyle on trial, they’ll go after my credibility when I testify, and nothing hurts credibility more than a little character assassination based on truth.”

  “The fact that you’re a single woman who likes sex has no bearing on the fact that this bastard put you in the hospital!” Vanessa retorted.