Where you touched her mattered less than how. And how you touched her mattered less than how you read her signals.
In case it seems excessive that I wanted to bring Charis pleasure in the dressing room of a hoity-toity clothing boutique, I'll remind you that getting a woman off is one of my favorite hobbies, Charis is my favorite person, and I fucking hate shopping.
"You don't have to come," I teased in her ear. "But if you do, I'll make you fried chicken for dinner again."
Her eyes grew wild.
"I know your pussy is wet, Sloane. This is turning you on, the fact that we're messing around in here while out there a bunch of ladies are shopping in total ignorance. Am I right?"
She kicked her heel back, but it was only half-hearted.
"I can smell that you want to come. You want to come bad. Your pussy's tightening up. Tell me you know it."
She nodded.
"And it turns you on that I know it, that I know what your pussy's doing without even touching it and I'm not gonna stop until you come."
Hesitation, gasping, nod.
A knock sounded, making her jump out of her rapt focus on me.
Damn, and I'd just been warming up.
"Everything all right in there?" called a cheerful voice.
I took a deep breath. "We're fine, thanks," I called, smoothing out the frown in Charis's forehead. I pressed my finger to her lips until the footfalls went away.
"You're fine, you're okay," I murmured. "We have ten outfits in here at least. They're busy. Nobody's coming in here, but if they do use their key, I'll get Ryanna to bail us out of jail. She'll keep our secret."
"Asher Norrell, you are beyond inappropriate," she seethed.
"I know, right? It's unbelievable sometimes what I think I can get away with. Seriously," I laughed.
"Argh. I don't know what I was thinking. You know what, go away. Go. Just-no. Wait. No." Char was running her hands through her hair, brimming with frustration.
"You know you want it, your pussy wants it, needs it … " I cajoled.
"We can't have sex in here, devil man!"
I put my hand over her mouth. "Shh. Remember, whisper. No sex. This is a no-mess, no fuss deal. I won't even go below your waist. Give me a few minutes and you'll get your thrill without anyone the wiser."
"My thrill?"
"Your oxytocin explosion, your nipplegasm, pick a euphemism."
"Really? You won't … I mean … really? Can it be done?" Now I'd engaged her intellectual curiosity, too.
She was toast.
"Mm. Consider it a magic trick. It'll be your new favorite way to go shopping. You want to actually bet?"
"No! You are such a politician. If I weren't so … "
"Horny? Wet? Much of a sexual firecracker?"
"Tempted. You tempt me, Asher," she whispered.
"Sloane." I looked into her eyes and groaned softly, planting my legs farther apart and thrusting my hips against her ass.
Honestly? I didn't know if I really could make her come this way. Not every woman can. But I knew she wasn't leaving this room without an orgasm.
I rumbled, "You say that and now I have to see you come, no joke. Where were we … oh, yeah, right … there. Fuck, you're like velvet and satin on my fingers, girl. Some baby's gonna be in seventh heaven sucking this nipple one day. You like that idea? You gonna give our tit to a baby one day? You like that? That? Shh, shh, shh. I love those sounds, but you have to be quiet. This quiet," I whispered, breath-soft.
This is the kind of thing you do. It's like soothing a high-strung horse with soft sounds and sugar. I'll tell you how I know about soothing girls another time. (Hint: my cousin in Yakima has a ranch, and two of his hands are girls who like teaming up to teach the boys all the tricks.)
Charis pressed her thighs together and I swear the little room got steamy. I had to fist my hand to keep it from wandering down from that one breast to her pussy. I would lay my entire fortune on what I'd find there.
Instead, I kept up the litany of praise and verbal lovemaking, telling her in her ear what I wanted to do to her, how close I was to losing my cool, describing how my cock felt (using nicer words than insanely bloated of course-ya gotta make your dick sound mighty, not like you'll weep if it doesn't get help), and I saw her grow twitchy.
Suddenly her hand came up to press against her other breast, still in its bra cup. I took the hint and slid the fabric off that breast. Now both were bare and I proceeded to work both nipples at once, tugging, twisting, scraping, hurting her just enough to keep driving her higher, and Char bit her lip and stood there.
Because apparently I'd called it on the tit play. She loved this.
"Another time I'll kiss and suckle these beauties till you scream," I breathed into her ear. "If I put my mouth on you now, I'll mess up my jeans. So I'll just pet them until your pussy bursts into opera song right here in this store."
At my silliness, she snicker-giggled, but also twisted needily.
"Shh, you just think about your pussy. Think about my big cock shoving into you, Sloane. Think how it will feel."
Now she was writhing against me with her ass. In the mirror, I could see the dampness darkening her panties. I knew she wanted my fingers in there. Her left arm even moved, like she was about to get in on the action. I halted her with my hand. Listen, I'd kill to see that, but I'd promised she could trust me.
"God, woman, when I get you home I'm gonna bend you over the first piece of furniture I see and fill you with cock. Maybe you'll sit on my lap and we'll watch a movie with me all up inside you. What should we watch? How about a dude with his face between a babe's legs? I'm sure I can find something like that for us."
Her whimpers were getting louder. Holy shit, this was working too well. I spun her around and pulled her down with me to the bench. She landed straddling my lap, making me officially hate my jeans. I took her with my mouth, muffling her cries, and my hands took her breasts, and I felt her strain against me.
Her smell. Her wildness. She was gone.
I felt like such a moron to have missed the passion in her for so long. She was moving like we were having full intercourse, her hips seeking, trying to rub her pussy on my abs. This, this is what I love about women-when they need it and show it.
And Sloane.
When she gets going, she shows you fucking everything. How can you not make it your life mission to please a woman like this?
Unless you're a prick named Reggie.
I pulled away from her mouth, breathing harshly.
"I'm not gonna touch that wet pussy till we get home, but damn, girl. You want it? You want a big hard cock in you? You soaking those panties really good for me?"
With those crude words, I pinched both nipples and licked her lips, parted with those little panting breaths she took-and she suddenly stiffened.
A low rumble came from her throat.
Quickly I swallowed her cries with my mouth.
She was amazing. Her eyes went almost black as she held my gaze, her expression going blank. Her body shuddered against me. My cock was in physical pain while I held her. I wanted to cram fingers, cock, tongue inside her to take up that sweet little dry orgasm.
But I couldn't risk it, not here. If I managed to embarrass her today, I'd be screwed forevermore.
Instead I kissed her mouth over and over, my hands smoothing over her breasts while she went crazy in my arms, until she calmed.
Not so, me.
I was so fucking turned on I was quaking like the San Andreas.
"You just slaughtered me, coming that way," I growled, holding her cheeks so she couldn't miss seeing that I meant it.
"Oh, God. Oh, God, oh fuck, oh, Ash. I never, oh, geez."
"Shh. You did good, you did awesome." Too fucking awesome. My cock was in bad, bad shape. I couldn't stop shaking. Maybe this hadn't been one of my brightest ideas.
I said hoarsely, "Okay, that was awesome, but I've gotta get outta here or I'm gonna explode."
Despite my good intentions, I kissed her neck, moving down toward her chest.
Had to stop now.
But she was so fucking delicious.
She gave a little laugh. "Are you kidding? You can't leave here like that." She reached down to stroke the front of my jeans, where a thunderstorm was threatening.
I couldn't stop myself from arching into her hand. "Shit, you keep doing that and I really will get us locked up."
"Aw, we can't have that." Suddenly she was sliding down, off my lap and the bench and onto the floor. Kneeling. Smiling up at me.
Her desires and intentions clear.
And I almost came just reading her mind.
CHAPTER 28
Three Years Ago-Being Lazy
Charis: What time of day do you think human beings are adapted to waking up?
Asher: Who? Wha? You doin' a crossword puzzle? What's going on?
Charis: Oh, were you asleep, Sir Asher? Nah, I was just wondering. Maybe it's dawn. Or maybe it's a set time that persists trans-seasonally.