*89:It Was Us

“I fucking love you, too.”

The words replayed in his head, making Jon's chest tight, and he pulled her into a firm embrace trying to relieve it.  The counselor’s admission wasn’t a complete surprise but hit him harder than he was prepared for, leaving nothing to do but silently bury his face in a curtain of fragrant hair and surrender any lingering anger to a much softer beast.

The minute he’d heard Tico’s Tinkerbell revelation, Jon’s temper went through the roof, and it had only gotten worse in the thirty minutes between the airport and his bedroom door.  Coming up those stairs tonight, he was primed and ready to unload his fury on her until every last remnant of frustration had been vented

That’s not exactly the way it happened, though. 

When he stepped through that doorway, it was like running into a brick wall.  Anger was derailed by desire for a moment when eyes fell upon his bed, and the dark-haired beauty lounging there exorcised Dorothea’s ghost more efficiently than a gaggle of Ghostbusters.  The seductive picture that she made had his breath catching and cock twitching before his subconscious smacked him around, reminding Jon that he was mad at her.  

Then the anger raged anew, enabling him to extract the pound of flesh he was entitled.  Now that it was his, tenderness tangled with raw, animalistic desire, and he carried both of them along for the ride, not caring which prevailed.

“God, you feel so good.  Smell so good.”  The whispers were hot against his neck, and her arms banded around his torso as though she had no plans to let go.  “I missed you.”

He fitted his mouth over hers, and an utterly feminine groan provided access to the taste he’d been dreaming about – sweet venom.  Sweeping his tongue through the soft grotto of her mouth, he greedily drank of the distinctive poison that he craved from that very first bite.

Chiara’s fingers began their familiar digging at his back, driving home just how much he had missed this – missed her and everything that came along with her.  It spiked his testosterone to excruciating levels.

“I love you,” she breathed into his mouth when he severed greedy lips to breathe.  “I didn’t mean to, but I do.”

Her lips were red and rosy from the kiss, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dilated.  In a word, she was fuckable.  He yearned to do just that, but Jon also required something more than words to make up for what he perceived as a lack of trust – in him and their partnership.

“Show me.” The benevolent demand was made as his hands tumbled through silken tresses to embrace the silhouette of her neck.  His touch was in gentle alignment with his words because he wasn’t seeking conflict.  He sought only confirmation.

Her eyes blinked sluggishly, and a glaze of lust evaporated in the presence of confusion.  “Show you?”

“Show me,” he repeated with fingertips nudging aside the thin straps of her gown to slide from her shoulder.  “Don’t fight me for control this time.  Give it to me now, while it’s a conscious choice.”

The counselor was used to being in charge.  She only relinquished control to him once her body’s desires overrode her brain, and Jon was well aware of it.  It was one of his favorite moments during sex – when she crossed over from Charlie to that woman with the dual personality, and then ultimately fell into warm and open Chiara.  He got hard even thinking about it.

His palms lightly skimmed her shoulders and down lightly toned arms.  The same terrain was covered in reverse while he waited for her to make a decision.  

“This is about trust, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”  Trust and love went hand-in-hand for him, and right now, he needed her to show him that trust so that he could fully give his.

Her nod was slight, but confident.  “Whatever it takes.”

That response alone was almost enough to cement his confidence in her, but she’d given him the green light.  Jon was going to take it and see where they went. 

“Good.”  He expressed his appreciation with a sensual lick along the seam of her lips, which immediately parted for him.  This time, he didn't take advantage of it but stepped away to say, “I’m going to take a quick shower.  Go wait for me in bed.”

When he would’ve left the closet, she latched onto his hand and opened her mouth once before closing it again.  The second time, she spoke quietly.  “Don’t do it for me.  I wasn’t kidding about how good I think you smell.”

She’d bitten back the order for him not to shower in order to revise and reword it into something that conveyed her wants without demanding.  It was minor, but still proof positive that she was letting him drive the bus tonight.  Odd how a little thing could carry so much meaning.

“Go get in bed,” he reiterated with another easy touch of lips.  “I need a minute.”

More than a minute, probably.  Now that he’d secured her agreement, Jon had to figure out what the hell he was going to do with it.

J J J J J

Charlie wasn’t exactly nervous as she waited in much the same position as when he first arrived, but she wasn’t relaxed.  Giving up her authority – or giving up the right to fight for authority with him – wasn’t something that came naturally to her.  He’d better grasp just how momentous this occasion was, and how indicative it was of her trust in him.  She wouldn't do it for just anyone, nor had she.  Ever.

“Counselor.”

His quiet summons came as he emerged through the bathroom doorway, and the only thing he wore was an erection.  Seeing no droplets of water or wet hair, she assumed he'd taken her wishes into consideration and skipped the shower.  Desire pooled at the thought of his scent enveloping her in a cloud of masculinity.

“Jesus.  How long before a naked you doesn’t take my breath away?”

The corners of his mouth twitched, but his smile was rigidly controlled as he stood at the bedside.  “Probably the first time I miss or forget something important to you because I’m working.”

“Then don’t do it,” she suggested, rolling onto her stomach to crawl to the side of the bed she’d mentally designated as his. 

“Easier said than done.”  Blue irises were clouded with something indefinable as he combed lazy fingers through her hair.  “I want to fuck you.”

“Good to know that you’re not going to bludgeon me to death with that thing.”

This time, he wasn’t able to keep the twitch from blossoming into a smile.  “I also want you to say nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.  You’ll offer no guidance or direction whatsoever.   Just accept whatever happens."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Charlie lost some of the confidence in her decision to do this.  “So you want me to be a fuck doll?”

“You can choose to look at it that way,” he agreed with a shrug, withdrawing his touch to curl one around his cock for a firm stroke.  “But it’s actually you trusting me to get you off, which is almost inconsequential as far as trust goes.”

His hand motions held her mesmerized.  The way thick fingers carelessly flexed with the exact pressure needed to keep him stiff and ready...  It was noticeably rougher than a woman dared, but his intensity was still firmly leashed.  She’d never actually gotten turned on watching a man prime himself before, but with him…

“Nothing is inconsequential about my deliberate passiveness,” she murmured from her kneeling position at the edge of the mattress.  His thumb scraped over the tip to remove a bead of moisture, and Charlie was transfixed by the utter eroticism of the male display.

“You like watching me jack myself?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She could only spare a millisecond to glance up at his face before her attention again became riveted to what was going on at the juncture of his thick thighs.  “It’s so… primal.  Raw, unapologetic pleasure.”

“That’s what sex is, baby.”  The thumb of his left hand scraped over her bottom lip while his right continued to manipulate.  “Especially with you.  Now no more talk.  Suck me.”

Charlie felt the blood coursing through her, pooling between her own thighs to ebb and flow like a scorching tide of erotica that heated only her very core and the outermost layer of her skin.  Everything in between was lying in a state of limbo, waiting for its turn to be awakened as she slid from the bed to kneel before him.

When she attempted to replace his grip with her own, he grunted, “Nuh-uh.  Gimme.”

Laying her hand inside his wiggling fingers, Charlie meekly acquiesced so that he could place her touch against the stiffness and bulging veins that pulsed expectantly.  With his wide palm over the back of her hand, he curled their fingers and guided her touch, squeezing so that she would fist him harder. 

He was tutoring her like a virgin who had never done this before but, rather than being insulted, she found it unbelievably intimate and… hot. 

“That’s it.”  It was with a quiet groan that he took off the training wheels and left her to act on her own.  “Keep doing that while you suck the head.”

Swirling the tip of her tongue around the circumference to make it slick, Charlie then closed her lips around the swollen mushroom head that was already weeping again with eagerness.  She hollowed out her cheeks while sucking and pumping aggressively.

Jon’s hands were once again tangled in her hair, where he so often had them, fisting it almost painfully as he watched her maneuver. 

“Feels good,” he breathed his approval while gently rolling his hips forward into her mouth and hand.  “So fucking good.  I missed you.”

Charlie’s womb convulsed with the raspy admission, and her thighs involuntarily clenched to put pressure on her palpitating clit.  This was nothing like the bondage and submission thing she’d been expecting.  It felt more like bonding than bondage – and she liked it a lot.

She had no idea how long it was that she knelt there, only that her lips were raw and puffy from licking and sucking every square inch of skin that made him a man.  Over and over she worshipped him with her mouth while dominant hands stayed fisted in her hair to dictate exactly how she did it.  Pace, depth and every swipe of her tongue were at his word, and continued to be so until the he was as hard as living, breathing marble.  He slipped deep inside her throat with a guttural groan and, when his balls drew tight under her touch, Charlie prepared to taste even more of him.

“Enough.”

The surprising command came before he did, but clutching hands still entrenched in her hair and greedy hips pushed his want through the sucking portal of her lips one last time before  sliding free.  Her eyes fell like a magnet to the freed head of his cock, slick with her saliva, and Charlie wanted it desperately.  

She wouldn't ask for it though.  This was for him.  He deserved this night of submissive repentance and, oddly, she ached to give it.  

Jon extended a hand to help her up and onto the bed, inching up the hem of her gown as he followed her in.  There were no panties to interfere with his search and plunder, but the stiffness she'd spent so long priming didn’t immediately seek haven between her legs.  Lazy fingertips instead trailed over her hips, thighs and stomach, erotic in their softness.  

“Watching my cock slide into your greedy little mouth is the best kind of porn,” he murmured against her jaw as wandering fingers finally slid into the slick center of Charlie’s body, and her hips reflexively lifted to meet them.  “It makes your lips all swollen and rosy, begging to be kissed, but your pussy…  I’ve been craving the taste of you.  All of you.  And since I can’t decide which end to start at…”

Her whimper of disappointment was plaintive when his fingers left her empty.  It faded into a sigh when those same fingers glided over her bottom lip and then the top to gloss them.

“So I’ll take both.”

His breath was nearly as hot as the tongue licking the carnal flavor from her lips, and the hedonism of it had her groaning with unexpected excitement.  It was the opening he needed to push inside her mouth and fuck her with his tongue, stroking long and deep while holding her head immobile.  He was in control and demanded that she take his feverish assault as her just punishment.  

Charlie wasn’t going anywhere.  If pouring his soul into her mouth while he worshipfully kneaded her breast and plucked its nipple through the silk was punishment...  She’d stay right here and be his submissive concubine from now until the end of time, and Jon seemed to know it.  

The intensity of his kisses continued while possessive hands branded her with his scorching fingertips.  The top of the gown slithered down to her waist, bringing both breasts out for his pleasure, and his touch alternated between caressing the soft globes and sharply tugging and tweaking their tips until she cried into his mouth with the exquisite agony.  

“Counselor.  I need to fuck you.” 

He slipped away to clamp her knees together and push them into her right shoulder.  Quivering thighs naturally pressed together as well as the swollen folds that ached with desire, and he sank into the resulting tight slit. 

She fought to stifle the inhuman sounds gurgling from her throat, because Charlie had no desire to hear her neediness.  Not when he was filling her ears with domineering promises.

“I’m going to pound you...” 

She sucked in a sharp breath when he did.  In this position, she was at his mercy and fully exposed, leaving him to ravage nerve endings that were already sizzling with electricity.  

“I’ll do it until your pussy lips are as tender as the ones on your mouth...”

He pushed forward again, the textures of his body and hers creating such a sweet friction that Charlie writhed with the sensation.

“After that…”

The silk gown that was more like a belt than a gown at this point was was bunched in one of his fists, and Jon fondled it as he retreated and speared her anew.  The sound of it was so raw and uncensored that she began to feel the trembling build deep inside. 

“I’m gonna do it some more…”

The noise he made was as earthy as the sound of their bodies parting and joining with primal force.  Over.  And over.

Slick.

Sweaty.

Smacking.

Sensuous.

Sinful.

“Until I come inside you so fucking hot that I scorch away the memory of anybody else.”

Submission.

Surrender.

Succumb.

It was too much.  She'd given him everything and all she wanted in return was him.  His passion.  His love.  

Charlie did a freefall from the top of the cliff that he shoved her from, and with only a few more bars of the bawdy soundtrack of their mating, he jumped behind her.. into her.  The heat he’d promised blistered muscles that were seized in the throes of their own release, but the fiery blast prompted them to relax for a split second – so that they could seize again with an intensity unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

She was scorched, seared and... sated.

Languid legs slid from his shoulder as a heavy-breathing Jon curled behind her without breaking the age-old physical connection between man and woman.  Charlie’s breath was as harsh as his own and her chest ached.  Her heart had never been this full for a man before and, when his sweaty arm settled over her waist, she relished the closeness. 

“You did good, Counselor.”

A lazy smile tickled the corners of her passion-abused mouth as Charlie's eyes drifted shut.  “I think that was you, not me.”

“It was us.”

She couldn't disagree.