*127: The Castle

By the time Jon used his wristband to unlock the suite door, Charlie had forgotten about her hurt at his response.  Really, what had she expected him to say?  It wasn’t like she’d made any wishes come true for him, so he couldn’t reciprocate, and she knew his limited patience with emotional conversations.  His reply was exactly the one she should’ve anticipated, but she couldn’t seem to control the emotions that were overwhelming her.

She chalked it up to the simple fact that she was a woman and he was a man.

“You ready, Cinderella girl?” His inquiry was accented by a lifted brow as he held the door open only inches. 

“Ready for what?” she volleyed back.  “The suite or what’s going to happen inside?”

Even with the teasing lilt permeating Charlie’s voice, handsome features went bland before he forced a smile.  “Both.”

She had no idea what prompted that, but Charlie tugged on his t-shirt to keep him from going through the doorway.  When he turned inquiring eyes on her, she met them with earnestness.  “Good.  Because I’m very ready for both.”

His nod was short.  “Then let’s do it.”

Stepping from the marble foyer into the suite, Charlie’s gaze shifted much as it had all day.  She was so very afraid that she would miss something that her eye muscles had gotten a workout from the moment they’d disembarked the plane.  The workout continued as she busily scanned their accommodations for the next three nights.

On the right side of the room, two queen-sized beds were draped with blue and gold damask and had wooden chests at the foot.  One of those chests had her Main Street purchases lined up on top of it while the other held their luggage, but Charlie paid them little mind.  She was too busy taking in the fireplace, antique writing desk, the draperies at the heads of the beds…

“It’s not very big,” Jon remarked.

That may be true, but when so much attention had been paid to detail, what did it really matter?

There were two arched doorways, she noted – one on either side of the fireplace.  The closest to her was the bathroom while its mate at the other end of the room led… somewhere else.  She chose to investigate the bathroom while he went the other way. 

Dual bronze sinks were seated in a marble countertop with each having a mirror mounted above.  The interesting thing about the mirrors was that they were recessed inside cathedral-style windows, giving it an authentic medieval feel. 

Carrying on that theme, the big garden tub opposite the sinks had pillars at each corner, along with a marble rim.  More impressive than that, though, were the three walls enclosing it.  Each bore the shape of a cathedral-style window inset in it, and those windows were mosaiced to appear as stained glass – one of which was Cinderella’s castle.

Beyond the sinks on the left was a shower with heavy brocade curtains, and at the end of the room was a princess vanity, complete with a dainty stool to sit upon and apply makeup. 

Peeking through the doorway between it and the tub, she found the water closet occupied by a square toilet.  There were cornices with drapes and tapestries hanging in there as well.  The throne was fit for royalty.

“Oh My-lanta,” she muttered to herself as a low whistle from behind her echoed off the tile. 

“Fancy.”  After offering his abbreviated approval of the room, Jon’s head tipped to the right.  “There’s a little sitting room in there with just enough room for a sofa, chair and ottoman.  The ceiling’s cool, though – some kind of dome-looking thing, and there’s a couple stained glass windows like in the bedroom.”

Charlie, of course, couldn’t just take his word for it.  She had to scoot around him with a quick kiss and go check it out herself.  Other than the oriental rug and gilded mirror, he’d covered everything, though.  He was also right about it being small.  The hotel room they’d used in California was bigger than this, although not as ornate.

“This is… beyond amazing,” she admired when turning back to find Jon watching her from the doorway.  “Have I thanked you lately?  Or enough?  If there is such a thing.”

His eyes had deepened to a shade dark enough to make her think of midnight, which naturally carried with it the connotation of glass slippers, princes and cinder girls longing to be princesses.  The voice that answered her was filled with a darkness that also mimicked midnight, but it didn’t evoke thoughts of fairytales.  It spoke of a completely different kind of story.

“Fight with me, Counselor.”

With an inquisitive cock of her head she parroted, “Fight with you?”

“Fight with me.”  His feet were as quiet as his affirmation when gradually crossing the opulent carpet to where she stood.  “I want the rush that comes with fucking you when you’re mad.”

He didn’t touch her, despite the fact that she could feel underlying energy radiating from his every pore.  It was so pronounced that the six inches separating them were no challenge to breach, and she felt the zing of awareness that accompanied being caged with an intense Jon who blatantly had sex on his mind.

The chills that danced up her back also puckered her nipples, making Charlie feel far from confrontational, but if this is what he wanted…  If it was what he needed to downplay the emotional scene after the fireworks, she’d give it to him.

“Not much of a fucking Prince Charming, are you?”  The taunt was cold as she tossed her chin in the air.  “You couldn’t possibly pay any more money to get the scene right yet still can’t manage to say anything but you want to ‘fuck’ me?  Romantic son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

His grin lit the room with a feral glow that was reflected in the depths of those midnight eyes.  The man that played Superman by day was about to become an untamed creature of the night, and Charlie held her breath in anticipation.

“You don’t want a fucking Prince Charming.”  Hands that were the polar opposite of tender shoved under her t-shirt, immediately bypassing the skin stretched over her torso to crudely paw at her bosom.  The bra cups were scraped aside so that he could clamp both nipples between thumbs and forefingers, tugging almost painfully.  “You want the guy who’s gonna push his face between your legs and stay there until you’re hoarse from screaming.”

“Mmmhhhh...”  She wasn’t supposed to be succumbing to this.  She was supposed to be fighting, so Charlie slapped away his hands.  “How the hell do you know what I want?”

“Because I know you.”  He was right back where he had been, mauling taut nipples and greedily kneading the softness behind them while bending to nip the tendon between her neck and shoulder.  “I know what gets you off.”

“Maybe you only think you do.  How can you be sure I’m not just faking it for your ego?” 

Again, she reached up to move his hands, but he knocked hers away instead of the other way around. 

“Nobody’s that good an actress.”  He wrestled the bright green cotton over her head, and the t-shirt hit the back of the sofa, quickly followed by her bra.  “And I’ve tasted your orgasms.  There’s no faking that flavor.”

Charlie’s panties were officially drenched.  How bad was she that his crudeness was such a damn turn-on?  That this man who would create a bed of roses and bring her to Cinderella’s romantic hideaway would seduce her with the reminder he’d tasted her most intimate surrender? 

“You’re full of it.”

Willfully removing the arms that had snaked around her naked torso, Charlie broke away to go back to the bedroom and kick off her shoes.  If she didn’t gain some kind of control over herself, this wasn’t going to be much of a fight, so she plundered in the suitcase at the foot of the bed, looking for panties. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking a shower.”

Plucking one scrap from the pile of silk in the back of her bag, she glanced up to see that his chest was now bare, too.  Muscles rippled as he slowly strode toward her, cloaked only in the light dusting of hair that nature had dressed him with.  Each rib was as defined as his bicep when it constricted to grab hers.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” 

She tried forcibly removing him again, but it quickly became clear that her success in the first round of escapism had only come about because he allowed it.  This time, she remained firmly captive and unable to do anything but glare at him, silently demanding her release.

“I said ‘no’, Counselor.  What part of ‘dirty’ and ‘unapologetic’ don't you get?” 

The panties were ripped from her hand and flung back toward the suitcase so that he could also rip open the button on her capris, jerking hard enough to incite the rasping zipper at the same time.  Before she could register the air against her exposed tummy, his hand was crammed down into the front of the panties she wore, unapologetically seeking lips that were already swollen with desire. 

“Your move, Counselor,” he coached as a finger found entrance to her body.  “Don’t you remember how this game is played?”

“Is that what this is?  A game?”

They were the only words she could come up with as he manipulated the secreted flesh in the way only he knew how, and she clung to his shoulders to keep her balance.

“A game you like just as much as I do.  If you won’t admit that, your wet pussy tells me all I need to know.  It’s ready to be fucked any way I wanna fuck it.”  The grin that covered his face in that next instant was classic cat-eats-canary.  “And it just got wetter.”

“You’re a pig.”

“That’s it, baby,” he approved into the curve of her neck as he stroked in and out.  “Fight with me and I’ll fuck it good.  I need it a little rough tonight.”

With his fingers playing her cervix like a Steinway, she’d give him anything he wanted.  That meant, though it pained her to do so, Charlie pushed at his arm, thereby dislodging his hand - and leaving her empty and aching.  She allowed the irritation over that to fuel the two-handed shove to his chest, leaving him to look up at her from the flat of his back on the mattress. 

“That the kind of rough you had in mind?”

Her taunt had scarcely been issued when he jackknifed up into a seated position, grabbed her by the waist and threw her to the side.  She had just registered the pattern of the coffered ceiling when he was on top of her, pinning both hands high against the bed and driving a solid titanium erection into her belly.

“Even better.”  His approval came with a blast of heat for her throat as he roamed it with an open mouth – flicking his tongue here, sucking there, kissing in yet one more spot.  “If you aren’t ready to take this to the end, tell me to stop now.”

With his hot, hard body pushing her into the mattress, Charlie’s heart beat with the fierceness of an oncoming freight train.  Insistent hips drove her deeper and should make her feel oppressed, but she didn’t.  Not with him.  She’d always known he wouldn’t cross that invisible line.

“Do something with that thing in your pants besides use it for a kickstand,” she panted, bucking against him in a half-hearted struggle that only made her pant harder when he didn’t budge.

“Ohhhh, little girl…”

The sentence hung in the air between them, unfinished and intimidating – or arousing, dependent on who you were.  Arousing was her take.  Charlie was flushed, horny, burning from the inside out and willing to dance in any direction he chose to lead. 

“Little girls don’t do it for you, Bongiovi.  You need a fucking woman to go toe-to-toe with you.  Someone who hovers on the verge of dominating you.”

Pushing up on the hand that wasn’t cuffing her wrists, he rolled his hips forward and radiated perverted delight while observing, “Doesn’t look like you’re the one dominating here, baby.”

“Shut up and fuck me, you arrogant prick.”

“I shouldn’t want to taste that dirty mouth of yours, but fuck if I can keep from it.”

“Mmmpfff!” 

His possession was so sudden and complete that it emptied Charlie’s lungs of air, leaving her chest to burn as he branded the soft recesses of her mouth with a dominating tongue.  There was nothing that he didn’t swipe over and claim as his own, and when he possessed a deed of ownership over it all, Jon went deeper.  Charlie’s lips were imprinted with the outline of her teeth as he consumed her like a wildfire. 

“Fuck, yeah,” he breathed through saliva-coated lips as she gasped for any molecule air in the vicinity.  Her throat burned and lips were bruised yet all she wanted was more of him.  “I need to have my dick that deep in you.  To fuck you so long and hard that you’ll feel empty without me inside you.”

“I’m empty now, goddammit!  Do something about it!”

She was almost infuriated by the husky laughter as he slid down her body, licking her nipples when passing by to stand at the bedside.  Strong, capable hands were releasing the buttons of his fly without care as to whether they were usable again or not, and Charlie felt much the same as she shimmied from her panties and capris. 

Finally free of clothing, she scooted further onto the bed while he shucked denim down his legs to fist himself harshly, watching with indigo eyes as she let her legs fall open.  Indigo became black with dilation as she slid a finger along the crease that was too flooded to offer resistance.

“You can’t order me to do something and then start playing with yourself.”

“I didn’t know that,” she nonchalantly murmured at his gruffness, slipping a finger inside her.  It was no substitute for his thick ones, and couldn't hold a candle to the appendage that he held onto for dear life.  “Nobody told me that rule.”

The growl he emitted while crawling up beside her was satisfying to Charlie’s most primal inner being.  She didn’t even mind when he powerfully wrenched free her naughty hand and popped the finger in his mouth. 

What was to mind?

Sculpted cheeks hollowed with suction and when his blackened pupils found hers, and Charlie thought she might come from that alone.  The connection he visually forged while his tongue curled around her knuckle was one step closer to the finish line.  She thought she may get to victoriously burst across that finish line when he sucked again, but he wasn't going to allow that.

Her finger was withdrawn with a wet ‘pop’, and he it fall idle in favor of mounting her again.  His crushing weight was an aphrodisiac as Jon pinned both hands over her head while his knees pushed hers apart. 

“With you, there are no fucking rules.  There never have been,” he grunted over her cry of pleasure when he drove unerringly home.  Stretching her.  Perfectly filling her.  “You make them and break them in the same goddamn breath.”

Charlie’s eyes fluttered shut as he picked up the rhythm.  She focused on the sensation of him angling just the way she liked it and the feeling of him bumping in the way that was most likely to set her off.  She reveled in the way he vulgarly cursed her with every stroke.  Those rank and foul words were sweet nothings from the man between her legs, and a warmth seeped from the center of her chest outward.

He wasn’t romantic in the traditional sense, but Jon had his own brand of affection and there was no mistaking it.  As she’d once thought herself, he liked fighting with her better than making love with anyone else, and with each rock of the mattress Charlie fought him harder.

Nails scraped down his back as she battled to be on top of the orgasm heap.  Her flesh ached as though it was already burnt, but she had yet to go up in flames.  Her insides pulsed with the inevitable blaze, even as he tirelessly stoked the fire – again and again and again. 

Still, she struggled.

He leaned down to harshly bite her shoulder and, in between driving pushes, Jon demanded,  “You’re going to… come for me and you’ll goddamn like it… like you’ve never liked anything before it.  Do you understand me?”

Her head writhed against the mattress, ponytail becoming more bedraggled with every toss.  “Yes.  God.  Anything.  Please.  Just.  Please.  Fuck.”

She didn’t even make sense to herself, but he understood.  Harder came the thrusts.  Faster came the pushes.  More vigorously came the mating of the two animalistic souls that had known their mate before their hearts had any idea.

“Come on, Counselor.  I’m about to bust a ball holding it back.  Come for me.”

Her rude, crude motherfucker was just exactly what she needed. 

“Talk to me,” Charlie breathed the plea, her forehead crinkling with sheer frustration at what was on the horizon – just beyond her reach. 

“Talk to you?  You want me to talk?”  Steam filled her ear along with the raspy voice that worked magic on her libido.  “Well, I want you to come.  I want you to scream the fucking castle down.  I want you to rip my back to ribbons.  I want you to fall apart in my arms.  And if you don’t.”  He rolled them both to the side without missing a beat and laid a heavy palm against her rump.  “I’ll make you.”

Face to face… legs intertwined… his scent pervading her nostrils while she felt him erotically abuse every never ending she had… 

“Nnnnngmmmhhhh!!”

Charlie buried her face against Jon’s shoulder cried into it, at least releasing everything that was too much to hold in. 

“Ah, that’s it, baby.  So good.  Love to fuck you.   Yes.  Yesss.  Jesus, yes!” 

Pumping so furiously that he needed to steady them both with death grip on her hip, there was a rumbling deep in his throat.  He was producing the distinctive, unintelligible noise that was one of Charlie’s favorite in the world. 

Her lover had found his completion. 

In her.

Panting hotly into her neck, Jon took his hand from her hip, still milking out the release with gradually slowing strokes.  The fierce paw that had gripped her so aggressively only seconds ago was now light as a butterfly’s wings when it came to stroke Charlie’s hair.  He ceased the movement of his hips while still nestled deep inside her, mindlessly petting her over and over again much in the same way she petted his back. 

She knew what he was feeling, because she felt it too.

This fighting thing they did removed all the filters, and had them baring themselves in a way that they seldom otherwise did.  As he’d once said, what happened in the bedroom stayed there and while that level of freedom had the power to bring them closer,  they were both exposed at the end.  She needed him to cover her back up, and a hard arm held her tight, revealing that he felt the same. 

Gentle lips found her cheek, and his breath dusted over her as warmly as his kiss. 

“There’s so much I wish I could say to you,” he muttered.  “But I don’t know what it is.  I’ve got so damn many things inside me that I can’t even tell what’s there, much less put words to it.  You’re gonna have to settle for love.”

For the second time that night, Charlie’s eyes filled with tears. 

Because love with him was far from settling.