Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) (54 page)

Grabbing another clothespin, he tweaked her sexy nipples and applied the gentle bite of a pin to each.

What a fucking sight. Tied, blindfolded, nipples clamped, legs spread, ice dripping from her pussy and those thigh high boots framing it all so perfectly.

One last thing. Holding the stem of a cherry, he teased her mouth with it until her tongue finally angled the juicy fruit enough that she bit it.

“
Unf.”
She licked her lips and smiled. “Again?”

He let her have two more, then began teasing her engorged nipples with the juicy fruit. Same for her clit.

Out of nowhere he started singing
Cherry Pie
. Her moans sang harmony. When he crooned how sweet she tasted and that it made him wanna cry, he meant it.

If he hadn’t been working off a plan he might have devoured her pussy but they were both at their limits and he still had one more thing in his bag of tricks.

His cock.

Gentling easing her legs out straight, Cal trailed his fingers up her legs. When each clothespin was snapped off, he immediately sucked the nipple into his mouth to ease the sting. It was a shame to untie her but he did. And finally, the blindfold came off.

He stood by the side of the bed. She rubbed her wrists and blinked a couple of times. Finding his eyes in the dim light, she watched but said nothing.

He slid out of his jeans. Her eyes immediately fixed on his swollen cock. She seemed, transfixed. So he loomed over her and leisurely stroked his flesh.

“Now, baby girl. We make love. Slowly. Deeply. My cock wants to fill you up. Make you come. Hard.”

She looked him in the eye.

“No more fucking around Charlize. This,” he gestured to her with his hand. “This is what I want. You. Wet. Aching. Desperate. I want your moans, your cries. I want your tongue in my mouth and your hands in my hair. I want your legs around my waist and that beautiful pussy meeting my cock stroke for stroke.”

Her eyes dilated, turned smoky.

“And when you come, I’m going to whisper in your ear.”

That’s all he said. It was enough.

He climbed onto the bed; she spread her legs and welcomed him without reservation. Kissing her with all the passion he had, Cal readied her for his possession. Rubbing his hardness up and down her slit until he was covered with her juices, he ruthlessly massaged the head of his cock to her nub.

With one hand beneath her ass, holding her firmly in place and the other gripping her head as he ravished her mouth, Cal teased the entrance to her body until they both moaned and shook. And then he sank home. Slowly. So slowly he forgot to breath, that’s how spectacular it felt as he slid deep, deeper.

She held onto her shit for less than a minute and then broke free. Grinding against him, her legs gripped his hips, her hands clutched at his hair and she began to buck wildly. Cal let her have the first orgasm without any effort on his part. He just enjoyed the ride. Her pussy clenched. She keened softly, frantic for his kiss. He pressed deep and rolled his hips. She went off like a controlled explosion, milking his cock, shaking all over, and moaning through an endless climax he felt along the entire length of his shaft.

Cal didn’t wait for her to come back. Doubling down, he did exactly what he said. He made love to her. Slow. Deep. She gushed with desire and hunger. More. Her body begged for more. He gave her all he had.

He whispered to her. Sexy things. Lewd things. Telling her with his body and his words how he felt.

As another orgasm built inside her, he paced himself so the ecstasy would claim them at the same time. She got desperate. He tamed her with the heavy thud of his cock pounding into her body.

She tightened and he knew the moment was upon them. This time when he came, it would be a climax like no other.

He growled and asked if she could feel how deep he was inside her. She whimpered and held him tighter. And at the precise moment she came undone, he whispered next to her ear, “I’m falling in love with you Charlize Baron-Wilde.” And with that, he emptied inside her, grunting from the effort and exquisite pleasure.

He’d never said those words before to anyone.

B
OY, SHE LOVED BRYNN’S NEW
, modern utility room. The closet laundry she shared at her last tiny flat was awful. Most of the time she’d hand washed what she could because actual washing machine time was a joke.

But this space? Wow. Jax and his crew created a unique washer-dryer set-up with a deep utility tub, long counters, and tons of upper and lower cabinets. There was even a built-in drying rack.

For Charlie, the best part was the crafting area with desk drawers and fantastic natural light from the windows. That’s where she was now, parked at the worktable while she waited for her laundry to finish. Trying not to make a huge mess, she was finishing a pen & ink drawing with watercolor accents. It helped her focus—doing something creative. Great landing zone while her thoughts lifted off and blew every which way.

The current tally as it stands right now, she thought. Last few days the newlyweds started making return noises; Rhiann was out of a job, free-falling and radio silent. Her parents managed to find more creative ways to drive her crazy; Nana stepped up her efforts to lure Charlie to the City of Brotherly Love and to complicate things just that much more, she’d hit a stupid glitch in the matter of wrapping up her degree.

Did she care about any of it? Barely.

But Caleb? Him she cared about morning noon and night. He’d told her he was falling in love. What did that mean? Though she didn’t say anything back, Charlie barely managed a sensible thought ever since.

They were playing house. It was the only way to explain their antics. Every night after work, he came to the big house for dinner. A dinner she spent hours planning, shopping for and preparing. She met him at the door in a cute dress, with drinks at the ready.

Genuinely interested in his day, she’d curl up on his lap, sipping a martini while he shared every detail of his efforts to finalize the business operation plan he, Jax and their dad agreed on.

She offered to create a logo. Something dignified and manly, he’d requested. None of that swirly font bullshit she designed for the Bakery and Tea Room.

Then, she’d feed him like a boss. Charlie wanted a goddamn medal for the variety and complexity of the meals she whipped up. One of his favorites by far was a beef wellington so tender and delicious she took the extraordinary step of snapping a food-selfie that she promptly shared with Nana. After all, it was her recipe—written on a scrap of monogrammed vellum that felt half a century old.

He always helped clean up. Doing the dishes became a favorite activity. Especially when he ground into her ass from behind as she labored over the sink.

Each night, after the dishes were done and everything was in order, they’d gather up some toys, grab whatever filled the dessert bill and they would walk hand-in-hand to the studio. An unspoken rule overshadowed the intimate part of their relationship. Not in the big house.

A comfortable synchronicity built between them. She spent as much time planning their playtime as making dinner. And by playtime, she didn’t mean anything sexual. Falling into an easy pattern, not at all unlike their time together in Rome, they hung out. Talked. Played games, laughed, relaxed.

She beat him hardcore playing Go Fish and Old Maids. He’d triumphed at strip poker, something she was never going to live down. They played with the kinetic sand he liked so much, made tiny animals from clay and did a bunch of cheap paint-by-number kits she bought off Amazon.

The snow was forgotten, but it was mud and yuck season, so outdoor time was a stretch. Instead, they played Twister, danced and cavorted like kids using Brynn’s Wii. He roared when she explained that her oldest sister had a serious gaming habit. After that, he made her ball up and learn how to navigate Grand Theft Auto and some Call of Duty game she would never fully understand.

Sometimes they watched TV but cuddling on the sofa inevitably led to them missing whatever was on, so not a lot of that went on.

Their evenings ended the same way. On her back in his bed. Or bent over his drafting table. Or riding him on a fainting couch she had moved from the basement of the big house into the loft.

He always wanted her to spend the night, and occasionally she did, but generally he walked her home and kissed her at the door just like any dating couple.

They didn’t bother at all to hide what was going on. Everybody knew. Jonas knew, so did the guys he managed. Amy certainly knew, the other folks working in Brynn’s business knew. That they were lovers was not exactly a secret.

But she still hadn’t admitted anything to her sisters, and she wasn’t sure what Caleb shared with Jax. Being a relationship newbie put her at a disadvantage. What were they doing? Was all this normal? Was it too soon to talk about feelings and futures and stuff like that?

Charlie put the brush down and sat back. God. She just didn’t know. Sometimes she felt like everything was happening way too fast. But if they were getting out ahead of themselves, how come it felt so right?

The dryer dinged to let her know it was finished. Actually, ding was the wrong word. It played a little song. What’s the world coming to? She laughed at the absurdity of it then immediately wondered if it was possible to program a personalized tune.

Wheeling over to the dryer, Charlie laughed out loud. The long rectangular room was perfect for scooting around on the rolling chair she used at the worktable. Breaking to a stop with her Chuck’s squeaking from the effort, the dryer was quickly emptied and laundry folded—all from her chair.

“You have a domestic side, Charlize.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. How did he manage to sneak up on her like that without any sound whatsoever?

“Laundry doesn’t do itself, y’know.”

He chuckled. “It did when I had a housekeeper.”

With mock outrage, she looked him over and smirked. “Did you just have the balls to call me a housekeeper?”

In a comical pantomime, he covered his crotch with both hands and shook his head no.

Her smile at his antics was genuine. So was the way she felt. He took the laundry out of her hands, pulled her from the chair and kissed her soundly. They sat side by side on the worktable and he showed her his phone.

“I have to drive into Philly. Take a look at this,” he said. “Saw it on a guy’s website. He repurposes stuff. Barn walls into sliding doors and wood pallets into furniture. Great stuff.”

She took the phone and studied the picture. Wow. “Is that a buffet cabinet?”

“It was. Now it’s a changing table. See this molding he put around the top? Safety first. There are two big drawers and a cabinet on each side for baby supplies. It’ll fit perfectly in the nursery alcove with enough room to spare for a diaper bucket and a trash can.”

“It’s awesome,” she assured him with a smile. “Brynn will love it.”

“It’ll be easy for me or Jax to adjust the height. Since she went with a shabby kitschy theme, this just seemed perfect. And when it’s finished being a changing table, it can be used for other things.”

“So, you have to go today? To Philly?” She handed him the phone and he closed the screen and dropped it onto the table.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Couple of hours. No big. I still wanna crank up the grill tonight so this trip’ll be a quickie.”

Charlie giggled. “Speaking of quickies,” she purred as her hand caressed his thigh and slid toward an ever-present bulge.

“Seriously, Ms. Wilde? In the laundry room? Have you no shame, woman?”

Cackling with laughter, she made it near impossible for him to refuse. Not when her hand started undoing his belt. “All shame checked at the door, Mr. Merrill. Along with my panties.”

“What?” he barked. “No panties? I hope you’re kidding. What if you ran into Jonas?”

This was a regular theme with him these days. For some reason, he was overly critical of and obviously annoyed with every move poor Jonas made. The guy was too young. Too brash. Too cocky. And his low opinion didn’t make sense. Jonas was none of those things.

Cracking a joke didn’t seem like a great idea so she redirected his attention. “You get that this is the laundry room, right?” She had his belt undone and the zipper on his pants down in record time. She knew this routine well. He’d let her touch him. A little bit. And then he’d take control and she could kiss anything more good-bye.