Charity For Nothing: The Virtues Book III (14 page)

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Authors: A.J. Downey

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BOOK: Charity For Nothing: The Virtues Book III
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“Charity,” he gasped and I shushed him.

“Shh, I want to do this for you,” I murmured. I unzipped his pants and worked them down his thighs until his cock sprang free, thick and long, standing at attention. I wrapped gentle fingers around him, stroking him softly, looking up at him so that he could see that yes, I really wanted this, as I took him into my waiting mouth.

Slightly salty, with a hint of musk, was how he tasted and I was in heaven as I let him travel over my tongue to the back of my throat, careful not to choke. There was an art to giving head, one I had perfected as a teenager, and it was really something I loved to do. What I couldn’t fit of him in my mouth, I kept wrapped in my fingers, letting my saliva lubricate him on my withdrawal; I worked him gently, making love to him slowly with my mouth.

“Oh, god!” he cried, perfectly sculpted chest rising and falling with quick breaths, in and out, pausing and crying out when I worked a particularly sensitive spot on the underside of him, near his head, with my tongue. He kept his hands on the back of his neck, fingers laced, a tension to his body, head bowed and those beautiful gray eyes watching me and I slowly descended, taking him in, working him inch by inch into my mouth, holding him until I had a need to breathe only to back off of him swiftly when it became paramount that I do.

He fought himself not to thrust, but I didn’t mind if he did. He dropped his hands to his sides, balling them into fists, careful not to grab my head, trembling with the exertion not to do so, and while I appreciated it, it wasn’t required. I let my hands find his, twining my fingers with his, letting them find the spaces between his when he let his hands relax out of the tight fists he’d been making. I locked our hands together as I took away the aid of my hand on his cock. Relaxing my throat, I swallowed him whole, all the way down. When his head rested in my throat, I swallowed around him, his hips jerked again in reflex, all on their own, and I backed off quickly so that I could breathe. Nothing kept his head bowed, his eyes squeezing shut as he gasped, and struggled to maintain control. He wanted to thrust, he wanted to thrust so badly, but he didn’t.

I couldn’t imagine how long it’d been for him since a woman last did this for him, especially given what he’d told me, so I have to admit I was impressed at not only his level of control, but his staying power as well. I licked and sucked him patiently, his hands gripping mine so tight, they trembled, the skin of his fingers mottled red and white, the split in his knuckle nearly opening up again. His whole body held a fine tremble to it now and his cock jerked reflexively in my mouth telling me before he could that he was nearly at the end of his rope.

He tried to warn me anyways, “Oh god, I’m gonna come!” and I swallowed him down. He spilled down my throat in a hot wash and I took it, backing off and taking in air only when I was sure he was done. He slipped from my mouth, a glistening strand of saliva between my bottom lip and the head of his cock which I found both alluring and erotic, but then his hand was under my chin, tipping my head back and his mouth was on mine, plundering, exploring; taking with a frenzy borne of need.

He pulled me up and I kicked off my shoes, his hands at my waist, were already lifting my tee and I raised my arms above my head, letting him have it. He stripped it off, mouths crashing back together, lips and tongues clashing, each fighting to dominate the kiss. Nothing was winning by a landslide and I really liked that about him.

Before I could even lower my arms, his fingers were scrambling at the back of my bra, going for the clasp. He unhooked it and I let it fall. He kicked out of his boots, stepping on the hems of his pants to pull first one and the other leg free, while his hands smoothed over my skin, roaming my torso, kneading my breasts. I was letting my hands do every bit the same amount of wandering, stuttering when I found a seam of scar just below his waistline at his back; wrapping around his thigh running down the side of his leg, I think, nearly to the knee. I tried to draw back, to look, but Nothing stopped me. His hands going to either side of my face, cupping it, keeping our mouths locked until the resistance left my body and I moaned leaning into him.

He found my waistband when he knew he had me back under his thrall and worked the button and zipper on the front of my shorts, pushing them down until they fell at my feet. He broke the kiss we’d been feeding one another’s fires with and pushed me backwards, going to his knees at the side of the bed. I fell back and before I could push myself up, he wrapped powerful arms around my thighs just above my knees and pulled me until my ass rested on the very edge of the bed.

“Just relax, baby, and keep your ankles high,” he murmured and pulled my panties aside, licking a wet line from my opening to my clit. I cried out and arched my hands finding the silk of his hair and pressing his mouth right where I needed him. He hummed in appreciation and my hips jerked of their own volition, much like his had.

He lapped at my clit, finding what sent shivers through my body, what sent me to shuddering beneath him, and then followed through by exploiting the ever loving hell out of those spots until I lay sopping, begging him for a deeper touch. I craved him like I craved no other. He wound me up and watched me go, his gray eyes full of all the right kinds of evil. He knelt up and pulled me down again, only this time he paused to ask, “Condom?”

“Fuck it,” I responded and he grinned and tilted his head to the side, ripping my panties
off
and tossing them aside, before driving himself into me to the hilt. I arched, back bowing to damn near the breaking point which served to drive me even further onto his penis and oh, holy
god
. I now knew what it meant ‘to see stars,’ flashbulbs of pleasure going off behind my eyelids.

“You, didn’t come, the last time, we did this, did you?” every pause in his speech, punctuated with a hard thrust.

“No!” I gasped out.

“Gonna, have, to make, that up, to you!” he said and drove me fucking wild. He set a strong, near punishing, rhythm. His thumb finding my clit and rubbing it as he towered over me. Just looking at the long, lean, fine as hell line of his body as he worked himself in and out of me was enough to get me halfway to orgasm. The way he fucked me, he was running himself over that sacred spot inside of me, turning me on, tuning my body up, until my toes curled and that sweet pressure built, it only took a few teasing strokes of his thumb to send me hurtling into that abyss no one ever wanted to come back from.

I was vaguely aware, that in the really real world, my back was arching again, my body bent nearly double backwards as he encouraged me to keep coming, to milk his cock for everything it was worth, and I was pretty sure my body had this, because my mind was nowhere near being able to handle his commands.

Holy, god almighty.

It was intense,
he
was intense, and you never would have known just how intense by looking at him or by his day to day interactions with people.

He let up on my clit, thank god, I didn’t think I could take anymore I was so hypersensitive. His gray eyes swept me from the crown of my head all the way down, lingering on my heavy lidded eyes, which I could appreciate. He’d slowed his rhythm to slow, lazy strokes, letting me recover, letting me catch my breath and I could appreciate that too.

“Come on, come up here,” he took me by the hands and pulled me up into his arms, winding my legs around his hips. I twined my arms around his shoulders, and he picked me up, getting his feet under him and lifting me, arms shuddering for just a moment until he got the weight and feel of me. I was enamored by the fact that he hadn’t pulled out of me.

He walked us up onto the bed on his knees and laid me down more comfortably, joining me on the mattress, leaning over me, smoothing stray strands of hair from my ponytail away where they clung to my face. He was gentle, far gentler than the moment before; than he had been in his kitchen.

He picked up his pace and I almost mirrored him in a way, combing my fingers through his hair and holding it out of his eyes as this incredible connection, this shared moment, this shared energy, built between us. He closed his eyes, turning his face to nip lightly at the inside of my wrist and I felt myself contract around his cock in an unexpected aftershock. He bowed his head and moaned, picking up pace and I pulled him down from where he was bracing himself off of me with his arms.

He folded against me, and we held each other, him moving inside of me, the frantic energy of before winding into a softer, sweeter thing. We went from fucking, to a languid sort of sex and edged right into, dare I say, making love in the span of only a few minutes time. It was a strange sort of feeling, making love to a near perfect stranger, which is what we were, really. Intense attraction aside, we hardly knew anything about each other and really had only spent a handful of days near one another…
God this was moving fast!
In all fairness, Hope had warned me…

“You’re thinking,” he uttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m not doing this right if you’re thinking,” he murmured and kissed the side of my neck, worrying at that spot that sent a wash of tingles all down my body. I shuddered and felt his lips curve into a secret smile against my skin as he quickened his pace, thrusting into me that much harder, hard enough that I thought he was trying to come through me.

He boosted himself back up onto his knees, his hands curving under my ass, supporting my lower body so that he could go searching for the right angle to penetrate me at, the one that would send his dick riding over that,
oh my god,
he found it.

The head of his cock slicked over and over my g-spot and I swear to god, that warm golden glow of ecstasy built twice as fast as the first time. He licked his thumb, the devil in his eyes and sent me crashing into that warm bath feeling. I was drowning and I never wanted to come up for air. I could stay good and drowned in this man’s arms. I didn’t care. Here felt like heaven.

 

Chapter 18

Nothing

 

She slept, tucked close against me in my arms, her head on my shoulder and it’d been so fucking long since I’d had this feeling of contentment. Only problem was the soul crushing guilt that came along with it. I held up my hand and stared at the gleam of my silver wedding band, now living on my right hand after the guys had ridden me so hard about still wearing it. The switch from left to right had only come last year and still felt weird.

I sighed into the night, and looked down, pressing a light kiss to the top of Charity’s head. I couldn’t explain to myself, let alone her, what had compelled me to do her again. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve a guy who couldn’t make up his mind. Who couldn’t let go. She deserved someone who could give her all of them, or at least most.

It was what was keeping me awake. The guilt made up of equal parts betraying my wife’s memory, and betraying Charity’s good will and kind heart. I knew a little something about that. I used to have a good heart, too. Saved as many as I could, always doing the right thing, even after joining the MC.

I’d joined about two or three years after Corrine and I had gotten here, before she’d gotten pregnant with Katy. Cutter had been the one to talk me into it, saying he had great plans for The Kraken. Mac, the previous president, had still been president when Cutter had approached me and asked me to think about it. The Kraken had a real different reputation back then. One known for their human trafficking. Not sex trafficking mind you, no, these guys were more smugglers, smuggling human cargo along with expensive and illegal Cuban cigars out of their country of origin. For a nominal fee, of course.

Cutter hadn’t wanted me involved with the heavy illegal shit as much as he could avoid me being in it. He knew what it would do to Corrine, and to my livelihood as a paramedic. No, Cutter wanted to keep me on the down low, wanted to start giving the club a better image, one of civility, one of respectability. He’d convinced Mac that The Kraken had needed it, and he wasn’t wrong.

The other reason he wanted me? To give some much needed medical attention to some of the refugees from the communist country. Some of those poor people got out by the skin of their fuckin’ teeth, and they didn’t always come out of there healthy. On that front, I’d been happy to help. A real fuckin’ humanitarian effort.

I started to drowse, listening to the cadence of Charity’s deep and even breathing. What I hadn’t counted on, which I should have expected given how stressed the fuck out I was over this new woman in my life, unexpectedly dropping in from the goddamned ceiling, was a recurrence of the dream.

It was late, the rain coming down in sheets so thick the headlights almost hurt my visibility rather than helped it. Katy was asleep in her booster seat in the back and Corrine and I? We were having the same fight we’d been having, about me working the night watch.

“I need you home. Katy needs her daddy home, why can’t you see that?”

“Is this about the club?”

“No! It’s never been about the club. I love Hossler, I love the guys, the club is like a real family with the way Cutter and Pyro and the rest are around to help. That’s just it though; it’s always your damn brothers fixing things around the house. You’re either working, or asleep! No, Dominic, this is about the hours you keep. You’re always putting work first, and you need to be paying attention to what’s going on at home. I’m sick and tired of you being tired all the time, I want my husband back and Katy wants to spend some with her dad that isn’t the five minutes before you go out the door for your shift, or the two before you drag yourself into bed to die for the day. ”

“Corrine, I don’t understand why this is even a thing, I’ve always worked the night watch, since before I even met you, that’s
how
I met you,”

“Right, that was nine years ago, Dominic! You have a wife, and a beautiful daughter and there’s more to life than just work, and me now, you have to stop this! I need you to grow up before you find we’ve moved on without you, I’m sick of being the only one trying here! I want my husband and Katy wants her father. We don’t want anyone else.”

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