Read Cherry Bomb Online

Authors: JW Phillips

Tags: #romance, #erotic, #love, #betrayal, #bdsm, #bbw, #younger man, #older woman, #single parents, #parents and single life

Cherry Bomb (13 page)

BOOK: Cherry Bomb
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With every ounce of control, I had in my
body, I eased into her. Feeling how tight and wet she was, I
screamed out, sweat trickled down my chest.

Unreal.
It had never felt so real. It
hit me. I never put on a condom. The buckling of her body, the
moans, took my mind from the thought. She felt absolutely
unbelievable.

She raised her head to place a kiss on my
lips and lifted her hips to meet my thrush. With each stroke, I
went deeper and deeper into the tightest pussy I’d ever had.
Hearing each purr, she made was the sexiest sound in the world.
Pure music to my ears.

She grabbed both my shoulders with her hands
for support. Then lifted her knees to give me better access.
Fuck, yeah.
But I couldn’t come and leave her wanting. I
kneaded the palm of my hand against her clit, rubbing fiercely.

I gripped her breast and worked them with my
other hand. “I want to feel you come around my cock, I want to see
your beautiful face when you do, I want to hear your sweet voice
call out my name.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Cherry panted. “Fuck,
Master.”

I took her hand and sucked on her fingers.
“Damn, baby. Not only your pussy but every inch of your body taste
delectable.”

She spasmed wildly around my cock and
screamed out my name as an orgasm wrecked her body. When her
pleasure came, mine washed over me.

“Let me come in you. God, please, baby.”

“Jesus, Drake,” she panted, and shamelessly
circled her hips onto my thrusting cock.

Jerking back my hips, I rammed her one more
time, spilling my seed deep within her body.

Cherry Webb

 

 

I woke with a start before remembering where
I was. After the most intense orgasm of my life, I collapsed in
Drake’s arms. He carried me over to an oversized king bed. Where he
tended to me. Then laid beside me, pulled me against his chest
until I crumpled up into his arms and fell into a sudden state of
unconsciousness.

I could still feel the warmth from the cloth
as Drake tenderly washed it over my body after we finished on the
swing. The sight of him on his knees stroking my most intimate
places, cleaning me as if I would break if he handled me wrong was
not the experience I pictured I would have at a BDSM club.

Each new side hidden deep under his hard
outer layer that was revealed melted a place on my heart that only
he had ever touched.

The bed vibrated against my body. I turned my
body to catch Drake sleeping, his hand gripping the sheets so
tightly his knuckles were white.

I glanced up at his face and noticed a single
tear sliding out the corner of his eye.

He was crying.

Hard enough to cause his body to shake.

Not what I expected from a man like
Drake.

I looked over at the door leading to the
bathroom, and wondered if I should ignore his tears. Drake didn’t
strike me as a man who would share much of himself with anyone.

I sat up. I thought about finding myself some
clothes to leave. But I couldn’t ignore that pain radiating from
his body.

I twisted at my waist and tapped him on the
shoulder. “Drake? Are you okay?”

He gulped back a large breath, and blinked
his eyes before slowly turning his head to look at me. His eyes
were swollen and blood-shot. I stroked my hand over his cheek. His
eyes softened but grew more sadden in the same instant. “Cherry,”
he said, almost questioningly. “Lay down and let me hold you.”

Just as if we were playing out a scene in the
playroom, I did as I was told at once. Pressing my back to his
chest, he nuzzled his stubbled jaw on top of my shoulder, his arm
tightened around my waist. His chest pounded against my back as his
hard, labored breath started to even out.

“Please don’t hate me. I know I’m fucked, but
damn this feels good.”

He rolled on his back and covered his eyes
with the back of his arm. I flipped on my side to face him.

“It always turns vanilla with you.” His voice
had turned raspy and raw. I studied the hand he had placed on his
chest because it was safer than looking at his face. I counted to
ten before I decided to look at him but just as I got the courage,
he sat up, his back facing me.

“Are you mad I asked for vanilla? I’m sorry.
It was just I had never felt so connected to anyone in my life and
I just didn’t want to lose that connection.” I laid on my back and
stared at the ceiling.

“Never mad at you. Just . . . Hell, I don’t
know. I’ve never thought I was capable of vanilla. Until you . . .
And in that moment . . . that was what I wanted too.”

I sat up and tied my hair in a knot on top of
my head.
Why did I get the feeling Drake's life was more screwed
than mine ever pretended to be?

He turned where he had one knee bent on the
bed and the other one hanging off the side. Pulling me back down to
where my head was laying in his lap, he untied the knot my hair was
in and twirled a finger around it. “My life had been a cycle of one
fuck up after another. I hope you never leave, then I pray that you
do, then I remember that God doesn’t answer my prayers, so for a
second, I feel relieved because maybe that means for once I get a
taste of this. But then I have no idea what this is. I don’t date.
I don’t care about anything, much less some woman I’ve fucked. But
for some crazy reason, I get the feeling you’re not just some woman
I’m fucking.”

Drake wasn’t aware of it but in the few days
we have been together, he had taught my soul how to soar. For a man
I barely knew, he had made my life both exciting and scary as
hell.

“Drake, tell me about you? Your family?”

“There’s not much to say, as far as my family
there’s me, my brother, dad, and sister.”

“What about your mom?” I asked gently, taking
in the tremendous pain still present in his eyes.

“Is a two-bit meth whore.” He closed his eyes
before letting out a deep sigh.

I sat in silence, holding his hand, letting
him work through the turmoil he was presently in.

I wanted to ask him if his mom was why he was
crying. If I was why he was crying.

Then for the first time, I noticed a small
scar running across the wrist of the hand I was holding. I had the
strangest urge to kiss it, somehow wanting to make it better. But I
stop myself and felt myself crawling into my tough outer shell,
blocking the pain around us.

“Do you want to get out of here? I know a
great little seafood place. We can put the top down on the car and
maybe ride through the countryside.”

Whatever is bothering him, I was right and he
didn’t want to talk to me about it.

"That might be skewed into something called a
date."

"I believe you're right. But you have been my
exception from day one."

 

Cherry Webb

 

 

The charming town of Collierville was the
best of both worlds, small town living in the center of the big
city.

It had been months since I had taken the time
to visit. For a while, I came every week with friends to eat at
this small little tea room and browse among the abundance of gift
shops. After I went to work at The Biz, it slowed down to a monthly
trip. Now it had even cease to exist in my realm of things to
do.

Most of the residents were wealthy,
suburbanites. The kind of place I envisioned visiting when I was
with a man like James. Not Master.

After receiving several envious stares, I
felt like Drake belonged there more than I did. Taking in the
perfect form of Drake in a skin-tight, black t-shirt and an even
tighter pair of blue jeans, it might have been the fact that he
did. After destroying the clothes I had worn there, I was presently
in a dungeon t-shirt, his college sweatpants, and thankfully, the
underwear I had stuffed in my purse earlier that morning.

After leaving me alone for thirty minutes, he
reappeared holding the shirt and pants, proclaiming they were the
smallest articles of clothing he could find for me to wear. By the
grin he was sporting, I would guess it was precisely what he wanted
me to wear. The strangest thing was, I felt relaxed and more like
me in these threads than any of the clothes James demanded I wore.
Maybe, Drake already could read that this was more me.

Drake darted his eyes to the left to avoid my
stare I was sure, and spotted an art festival going on around the
historic courthouse.

“Do you want to stop and look around? I need
to stretch my legs for a few anyways,” he asked.

“Of course, I haven’t been to an outdoor
festival in years,” I said, more wanting an opportunity to get to
know him than to actually shop.

“You will love this place. Claire, my
step-mom, drags my dad here almost every week.”

His step-mom.
Another piece of the
puzzle to his life. I wanted the clear picture of what made him who
he was, but something deep down knew the pieces would come in a
small trickle.

“It’s not The Dungeon but it will do in a
pinch,” I said and traced a tattoo of some type of bird on his
forearm.

“I have a life outside of the club.”

His muscles flexed under my touch. But what
grabbed my attention were the multiple tiny scars that covered his
arms.

“What happen? Where did you get all the
scars?”

He parked the car before answering. “I used
to be a cutter,” Drakes said softly and reached over to wipe my
windblown hair off my forehead. His hand stilled as he cupped my
jaw. His thumb caressing my cheek, the way he was looking at me so
intensely, I struggled to take a deep breath. It was the stare my
body responded to in a way even I couldn’t understand.

“Do you still?”

He lightly laughed and shook his head.
“No.”

“When did you stop?”

“When I discovered I was a Dom."

Drake Hart

 

Rolling the top down on the Saab seemed like
a terrific idea at first, but with the wind whipping around our
face, the beeping of horns, the sounds of faulty mufflers, the
general hustle and bustle of the city blocked out any chance of
talking.
And hell, I wanted to listen to her ramble about
anything. Even if it did require me to answer unwelcomed
questions.

"Does that bother you?"

She twisted her puckered lip, contemplating
me. The pressure in my chest lifted when I was briefly blinded by
her remarkable smile as she shook her head. We were both just two
injured souls, trying to feel whole.
But her fucked-up meter was
nowhere near mine.

I shut off the motor and asked her to please
stay in the car. I confused her with that request, but for once I
wanted to show someone I could be a gentleman, and found myself
smiling again when she obeyed as I walked around to her side of the
car to open her door. The way her eyes danced as she climbed out of
the car, biting on the corner of her lip, caused an unfamiliar
thump in my chest.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re most welcome, Mrs. Webb.”

I took her fragile hand in mine and relished
at how delicate she was. Other than Katie, I had never wanted to
protect someone so much in my damn life, to the point at times I
forgot why she was really with me.

The area was congested with people but that
was a good thing, it caused Cherry to move closer to my side. We
followed a stone path leading to a series of tents, holding booth
after booth ranging from handmade furniture, to homemade breads,
and everything in between.

Her walk came almost to a crawl as we moved
closer to a table filled with an assortment of bracelets. I
stopped, knowing she would never ask. I wish she was more sure of
herself with me. The truth was I would do just about anything for
her. The only place I dominated was in the bedroom, outside there
we were equal. She immediately picked up a small leather band that
was made to fasten around her wrist. It resembled a slave collar.
The thought of her wearing it made my dick twitch.
What the
fuck?
I didn’t do the commitment thing. Much less, give some
woman a sign of ownership.

She placed it against her arm before laying
it back down on the table.

“I love that on you,” I said, and I did.

“Love it too,” she said, and fingered over
the inlay of silver flowers sprinkled amongst the leather.

I slipped the bracelet out from under her
hand and slid it on her wrist. The ridiculously powerful urge to
see her branded grew stronger. I wasn’t collaring her. Just showing
her that what we had was more.

I leaned in and whispered into her ear, “I
want you to wear this and nothing else the next time we play.”

The heat wept out of every pore in her body,
signaling her cheeks were soon to blush. I kissed her neck as she
ducked her chin against my chest.
Damn, she was so
responsive.

I snapped the bracelet on her and handed the
sales lady my credit card.

“Sir, that’s sterling silver and one of a
kind. It’s a hundred dollars.”

I waved my hand at her. I didn’t give a damn
how much it was. The smile Cherry was beaming at me was
priceless.

“No one has ever give me something for no
reason.”

“Glad I was your first. Just do me a favor
and never take it off.”

Cherry’s eyes rose to meet mine. It startled
me how much I already felt for her. I wasn’t supposed to feel those
things. I promised myself I would never go there.

We walked the festival hand in hand like we
were a normal couple, roaming the aisles between tables, eating
cotton candy, even taking a ride on the Ferris wheel. I had never
had a day just set aside for fun. I liked it. Even the muscles in
my back had started to relax. She could be the one to finally make
me happy. If only we had a chance.

“Sir, where have you been? I haven’t seen you
around the club in days.” A soft, breathy tone came from behind
us.

BOOK: Cherry Bomb
5.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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