Naughty Ladies! Spicy Romance Collection

by Bree Branigan

  She snuggled closer and laid her head on his shoulder, letting her fingers lightly stroke his chest. “Can we make it your home? Please?”

  As soon as she’d said it, she blushed. She’d never seen Baptiste’s place. What if he didn’t live alone? What if he had something there he didn’t want her to see? As it turned out, her doubts were groundless. Baptiste said, “My place? Are you sure?”

  She turned her face upwards, hoping that he would kiss her. He did. When his tongue entered her mouth, and lingered there, she felt an ache; a longing for his touch. She put both arms round his neck, running her fingers through his thick, coarse hair and stood on her toes, pressing her body into his. “I’m sure.”

  He grazed her cheek with his fingers, looking deeply into her eyes. “Okay.” His arm around her waist set her body afire as they walked to his car. They drove in silence, an electric anticipation filling the air. She looked at his fine, muscular arms, at his big hands, his broad, strong, chest and shoulders, at the brawny legs filling his jeans. . . Finally, I’ll be wrapped in them!

  When he parked and opened the door for Charlene, leading her up to his apartment, she felt she was walking on air. The desire percolating between them was tangible. She drew in a deep breath as they entered his apartment. This is it! Looking around, she was impressed. Baptiste’s home was large and modern, tastefully decorated in charcoal, grey and white with splashes of modern art, paintings attractively hanging throughout the spacious living room; the only room she could see. He flipped a switch and soft jazz music filled the room.

  “What would you like to drink? he asked, indicating a well-stocked bar.

  “Red wine,” she said, “please.” Lots of it! she thought to herself. How do I go about this? She sat on his low-slung, grey leather couch, hoping he’d sit next to her. He did. As they sipped and chatted, her courage grew. Somehow, she knew she had to take the lead. Another glass of wine, and she leaned backward, letting her arm lazily drift nearer to him, stroking his jaw lightly. He looked at her through thick, dark lashes, and she shivered. Setting her wine on the glass coffee table, she slid closer, lifted her face to his and, holding him by the shoulders, she kissed him – on the cheek a moment, then his throat. His skin was warm and musky, moist and salty-tasting. Then she slipped to her knees on the soft carpet. She had never done this, but she had heard it spoken of by girlfriends, and how difficult could it be? Everything they said suggested it was worth it, because men loved it so. Baptiste’s breath caught, and he looked at her, his eyes filled with longing.

  Slowly, a little inexpertly, she drew down the zipper on his black linen pants. She could feel him stiffen a little. Even if she had not known where the thing she sought was, she would have made for it unerringly, so big and hard did it stand behind the shielding cotton of his briefs. Briefs that she thought were the sexiest garment she had ever seen. “Open for me,” she whispered.” Looking up, she registered a look of surprise on his face, but he unbuckled his belt and unfastened the button at the top so that she could draw his pants open and slip the briefs to his thighs. And there it was. She was looking for the first time in her life at a man’s cock. And what a magnificent cock! Long, hard and thick, with a vein running the length of it. ‘Cut’ and ‘uncut’ meant nothing to her; the way the foreskin seemed to want to peel back from his tip was something that she assumed to be normal.

  She kissed that foreskin, that tip, and she ran her tongue slowly all the way from there to the little sac that held his balls. That, too, she licked – under, behind, in front, she made love to the whole thing with her lips and her tongue. And then she took him in her mouth. She felt his body quiver, and he let out a soft moan.

  It seemed almost impossible to get her hand around that mighty girth, and so it would be equally difficult to hold it between her lips. Yet hold it she did, and all the time she was sucking on him, she was thinking, ‘Is this a dreadful mistake? Is something this huge supposed to fit inside me? Surely, he will rip me apart?’

  And then the time arrived to put that question to the test, because Baptiste could wait no longer. Suddenly, he became forceful; a new man. He lifted her into the air, kissing her and kissing her and going on kissing her as he lowered her onto the sofa. Standing over her, he peeled off the rest of his clothes, and she saw that what she had thought about tattoos was not quite correct. There was a picture of a dragon, about three inches long, on his left hip. Naked, he was even more impressive than she had imagined. There was no fat on that magnificent body. He was all muscle.

  Then she could look no more because he had rolled her onto her front and was pulling down the zipper at the back of her dress. Keeping her in the same position, he unclipped her brassiere. When he took the dress by the hem she knew it was time to lift herself so that he could get it over her hips. And then she was sitting on the sofa as he lifted it up her body, and over her arms, and dropped it onto a chair. He slipped her bra down her arms and, if she had thought herself in heaven when he kissed her, that was nothing to how she felt as his fingers, his lips, his tongue, and the palms of his hands played with her breasts. And then they strayed to that other place, that no man had ever seen, let alone touched. He stroked her back, her waist, her hips; slowly, caressingly. When he put his hands on the waistband of her panties she lifted herself so that he could slip them down and take one leg out of them so that they hung from her other thigh like a symbol of her surrender.

  And surrender it was, for when he pressed his hands against the inside of her thighs, she opened them willingly, and his lips grazed the inner surface of her upper thighs before drifting across to place a kiss on a sex moist with longing and trembling with desire. His tongue snaked out and ran a path from the bottom of her molten slit to the top and she screamed out with such vehemence that he stopped what he was doing and looked at her, afraid that he was hurting her. “Are you all right?”

  “Please! Please, don’t stop.” The longing whispered through her.

  He laughed, a low, throaty laugh, and returned to what he was doing. Charlene found that she had, at the very northernmost tip of that hot and throbbing pussy, a little nubbin of joy that grew under his ministrations and transferred feelings of unfettered, uncontrollable delight to every corner of her body. She felt she could stand no more without fainting.

  “Please, please, take me,” she sobbed. He raised his face from that magical place and, reaching into a drawer in the end-table, he fumbled with his right hand a few minutes, took out a package in silver foil. Expertly, his fingers opened it and he rolled a condom on to his shaft. And then she found that any doubts about how something so big could fit inside something so small were completely unfounded because he was there. He was inside her. Slipping slowly inside. She felt a piercing for a moment, a puncturing of hymen. That’s it, she thought. There goes my virginity. And then he was moving, and she was moving with him. He filled her. The glory of it sent waves of pleasure throughout her body, and she moaned, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Her nails on his shoulders dug into his skin, arousing him even further. Panting and gasping, their beat became faster, and it wasn’t long before a mushroom cloud of earth-shattering fulfillment was rising from deep within her, and rising, and rising, and then it was as though for the first time in her life she understood why people made such a fuss about sex because she was screaming wordless cries of joy into Baptiste’s ear. She was holding him so tightly, and she was falling back to earth and then his back was suddenly rigid. She may have had no real idea of what a man’s climax consisted of, but she knew he’d had had it.

  They lay, locked in each other’s arms, for what seemed like an eternity, and then Baptiste moved away from her just far enough to ask, “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

  Charlene said, “I feel like I went up a mountain a girl. And when I came down, I was a woman.”

  And she kissed him lingeringly on the lips.

  Chapter 3

  After that first night, Charlene never went back to Bella’s place except
, first, to collect her things, and second, to visit. She had assumed that she would move in with Baptiste and he had assumed the same thing. They were lovers. But they were much more than lovers – they were partners. At least, that was how Charlene saw it. She’d had the greatest conceivable stroke of luck. It was by a pure accident that Baptiste had been there when she had been in trouble, and that he had rescued her. It was by only a little less of an accident that she had gone to live in his sister’s apartment. And now, two accidents had been followed by a third, because she was in love with a man and he was in love with her and they were sharing a home and a life.

  Charlene knew what the future held. There would be a wedding. There would be children. The timing was something to be left to Baptiste. Because he was her man, he would decide. That was how it had been among her own people, and there was every indication it was how it was amongst Baptiste’s. They would grow older together. One day, they would be Darby and Joan. They would be an elderly, mutually devoted married couple who had lived a placid and uneventful life. That was what she wanted.

  Charlene had tried many jobs, and now she became a waitress. For the first time she had a job that she found she was both good at and loved. A waitress could make people’s day an absolute misery or an absolute delight, and there was no doubt which Charlene set out to do.

  Life at work was good. Life at home was wonderful. She had gone up the mountain a girl, and she had come down a woman, and the girl was gone forever. Charlene reveled in sex. She wanted to be naked in Baptiste’s arms as often as possible. She wanted his cock in her mouth, and then she wanted it in her. Brought up by her mother to be prim around men, she found it difficult to understand how she could possibly have become what she was – but she had no desire to go back. Why were women told that sex was for men? It was for men, in the sense that she sought always to pleasure Baptiste, but in doing so she pleasured herself, as well.

  And so, without knowing it, she sowed the seeds of disaster.

  It was around condoms that the first signs of trouble emerged. Baptiste had worn one that first time, and every time since. She asked whether it was not spoiling his pleasure a little. “My darling. Would you not rather be inside me with nothing between us? And let me feel your lovely, lovely seed as it flows into me? You know I don’t have anything horrible to infect you with, because you’re the only man I have ever known. And you know I won’t get pregnant until we want me to get pregnant, because I’m on the Pill.”

  His jaw became tight. His eyes held a harsh glint. She had never seen him look at her that way before.

  He said, “We? You think we will want you to get pregnant? You think we will want to have a baby together?”

  Charlotte’s stomach turned over, the way it will do when someone realizes that the world may not be the way they have been viewing it. ”Well ... I assumed...”

  “You assumed. Do you think you might assume too much?” His look softened when he saw her face. “I’m sorry. I’m being cruel. But... Charlene... I don’t think I want a child.”

  “Oh.” She put her hand on his arm. “Not with me? Not ever? Not even...” She found she could not continue.

  “You were going to say, not even when we are married.” His eyes had a haunted look.

  “Yes. Yes, I suppose I was.” Tears shimmered in her eyes.

  “Charlene, everything ends. You are not the first woman in my life, and I don’t suppose you’ll be the last.” He drew in a deep breath, and his body slumped a little. “Oh, Charlene, don’t cry.” He took her in his arms, kissing her forehead, stroking her back.

  But she couldn’t help it. She lay in bed beside him, listening as he dismantled her dreams. He was her man. He was THE man – at least for her. She knew he could not have been chaste, as she had been, before they met, but his love had seemed so complete. She said, “I thought you loved me. You said you loved me.”

  He placed his hand gently on her cheek. “I do love you, Charlene.”

  She turned away. “It doesn’t seem like what I call love.”

  He sighed. Eventually, Charlene knew that he was sleeping beside her. But she did not sleep.

  THE FOLLOWING DAY WAS Charlene’s day off. Baptiste had things to do of a sort that he never discussed with her. Charlene tidied and cleaned the apartment as though her life depended on it, but she could not rid her mind of thoughts about Baptiste, what he had said, and the crumbling of her dreams. When she could scrub no more, she walked out into the street. Without consciously directing her feet, she ended up at the home of Baptiste’s sister.

  The moment she walked through the door, she was conscious of Bella’s eyes on her, a look of deep concern etched on her friendly face. She sat down. Bella made coffee and put it in front of her. To this point, not a word had been spoken. Now Bella broke the silence. “It’s happened. Hasn’t it?”

  “It?” She tilted her head to the side, leaning toward Bella.

  Bella sighed deeply. “I’ve been waiting. Honestly, Charlene, I hoped this time it wouldn’t happen. I hoped this time he’d realize what he had, and he’d settle down and make a life with you.”

  “I’m not the first, then.” She spoke in a mono-tone, her eyes dull.

  Bella reached over to squeeze her hand. “Oh, Charlene. I’m so sorry.”

  “What is it? Is it me? I thought he loved me. He said he loved me.”

  “I think he does, Charlene. I’ve watched him with you, and I really think he does love you. As far as he is able to love anyone.”

  Charlene felt drained. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

  “My brother has never had any trouble attracting women,” Bella began, speaking with hesitation.

  “No. I’m sure he hasn’t.” Charlene’s face twisted into a wry grin.

  “He had a tendency to give his heart too easily.”

  “What – and then take it back when people thought it was theirs? What sort of behavior is that?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean.” Her eyes glistened, taking on a far-away look. “It may be because of our parents. When I was fourteen and Baptiste was twelve our dad had an affair and left us.”

  Charlene reached across the table to lightly stroke Bella’s arm. “Oh, Bella. I didn’t know.”

  Bella nodded, her voice choking now. Tears filled her eyes at the memory. “Our mother fell apart. She tried, I guess, but she couldn’t cope . . . and she killed herself.”

  Charlene rose and moved to hug Bella. “Oh, Bella. I’m so sorry.” They embraced, the warmth of this wonderful woman filling Charlene with love. My God! What these people have been through! How did I not know after being so close all this time? She felt numb as she sat again, looking into Bella’s sad brown eyes.

  Bella went on. “Baptiste never got over it. Then, when he was still a boy, he fell in love with a woman who was older than he. She encouraged him. Let him think he was someone special. That they’d be together forever. I wasn’t happy, because of the age difference, but I didn’t tell him that, because that would have been counter-productive. He’d have gone after her all the harder. But I knew what would happen, and it did. He got too pressing and she dropped him.”

  Guilt consumed Charlene from within. She gasped. “Oh. Oh, poor Baptiste. And then I talk to him about having children together.”

  Bella, dry-eyed now, looked at her intensely. “Charlene, do NOT start thinking that this is your fault. It isn’t you, it’s him. I’m just telling you how it all started. After her, there was another, and she was also older, and I’m sure she thought it was amusing to have a boy-toy. The things they used to get up to...” She shook her head. “But it ended in the same way. And I think... We’ve never talked about it, but this is what I think...His refusal to commit started then. He’s afraid that, if he lets himself go again, if he falls in love and gives himself to someone again the way he did with those two, then he’ll be hurt like our mother was. Like he was. That’s what I think.”

  “His refusal to commit. There have b
een others before me?”

  “He has the sense now to choose women his own age or younger. They fall in love with him. It’s easy to do. If he weren’t my brother... And he falls in love with them. He’s in love with you, I know he is. But he has this fear now. You can lead him right to the edge, but eventually he has to hold your hand and jump. And he hasn’t been able to do that.” She held her hands up in the air. “I had hoped, with you... That’s why I was so pleased when he brought you here. You seemed like just the right kind of woman for him. And I was even more pleased when you went to live with him. I thought, maybe, this time...”

  “You think it could still happen? If I’m patient? If I give him time?” She leaned forward, her eyes wide.

  Bella shrugged. “I have no idea. He’s my brother, but I just don’t know.”

  “What happened with the others?” Her voice was filled with wonder.

  “Eventually, they gave up. One of them told me it’s possible to understand without being understanding, and I know exactly what she meant. And that brought problems of its own, because after they’d gone, with each of them, he made a nuisance of himself.”

  Charlene paled, her mind swirling. “Well, I can’t believe he hit them. I don’t believe that Baptiste would ever do that.”

  “Absolutely not. A man? Sure, yes, any man who decides to get into a fight with Baptiste had better be able to use his fists because Baptiste certainly can. But a woman? I’m quite certain that Baptiste has never hit a woman, and I’m quite certain that he never would. He has nothing but contempt for men who batter women.”

  “So. His way of making a nuisance of himself?” Charlene tilted her head to the side, lips pursed.

  “He went after them. Laid siege to them. Wooed them. And they both made the same mistake. They both went back to him. Three times, in one case.”

  “And still he couldn’t commit?”

  “I’m afraid that’s right.” Bella breathed deeply, and looked at her with set jaw. “So, Charlene, that’s what you have in front of you. You can go on living with him, never put any pressure on him, never ask for any kind of long-term commitment, never mention children, and you might still be together fifty years from now. Who knows? But if that isn’t enough...”