Secrets of Desire
5.
Of course Miles never lets them out of his sight for the next couple of days. Instead of snoring his day away on the couch with a whiskey buzz, her uncle looks for hers and Monroe's company. Charlie is sharing an evening and a bottle of whiskey with him.
Miles sits next to her. His knee is close to her leg as the both of them sit in silence without feeling the need to fill the silence with meaningless words. Miles just put the bottle to his lips when Charlie hears the heavy rhythm of Bass' boots behind them. The wooden boards of the porch sigh heavily under his weight and the memories of a bathroom filled with late afternoon shadows and the scent of sweat and lust.
He sits down next to Miles. Her eyes are still following drops of rain that are caressing the last leaves of the year before they hit the forest ground.
She can feel his eyes even before she turns her head his way. It does not take long before his eyes try to find hers over their casual conversation.
Miles and him are sharing memories of cities spread over half the continent. Miles is doing his best to pretend he does not feel the same as Bass about both men being together again with a bottle between them, sharing stories they only know.
Bass adjusts his leather jacket as he watches her. Her eyes finally meet his. Charlie can see a whole battle taking place in his eyes, a battle she feels within herself as well. The battle of wanting and not wanting to want.
'Can I have some?' Bass' voice is husky when he nods to the bottle in her hands.
Charlie tries to ignore the smolder in his words. 'Sure.'
Their fingers touch as Charlie hands him the bottle. The dangerous game they are both paying burning in both their eyes with Miles so, so close.
His eyes are exploring her face and stop at her lips. He forgets his whiskey for one fucking moment. They fucked. They have barely talked after all the fucking. And he finds himself in unsure territory.
Hell, he knows it was probably some one time hate fuck. Anger fuck. Whatever. He knows he'll probably will not have her again. And hell, he wants her. Again. Like fucking now.
But this is Charlie Matheson. She is danger and stubbornness and loyal fierceness in the swing of her hips and the deadly aim of her crossbow. She he watches her. He waits. He drinks and shares a bottle with his brother and her.
Neither of them speak after their short exchange of words. But Bass tastes her as he takes a sip from the bottle.
Two hours later and Charlie can't control herself. Not anymore. She feels annoyance mixed with lust as she turns to her other side, readjusting her blankets in a bedroom filled with the darkness of the first hours of the night and the sounds from the forest outside. It is driving her crazy. All those burning looks from Monroe, without his hands there around her hips to soothe that angry lust.
She has given up on the fight of telling herself she does not want to feel him again. Them again. His fingers, his skilled hands. His demanding eyes. Words that form orders so easily. His rough scruff, his infuriating low voice.
Her body has known it for a very long time. Her mind is finally catching up as the wall she has put between the both of them is slowly tumbling down. Everything is different now. Her life. The way she sees herself in that life. That world out there that has gotten so much bigger. All the truths that came with that expanse. The way she sees Miles. Monroe. Bass.
She is all alone when her bed is there for her to fall asleep in alone. The echo of his groan of release so close.
She has seen him fight. And this man comes like he fights.
She knows it will not be enough. But she can't control herself. Her fingers find her warm inviting thighs and moist soft curls as Charlie closes her eyes with a soft sigh.
When Charlie had gotten up from her place next to Miles on the porch and wished them goodnight, he had really tried to ignore the enticing curves of her hips and ass. His eyes had followed her as she had walked that ass of hers over to the kitchen door.
But even sitting side to side with a brother who would definitely kill him over and over again for thinking what the hell he was thinking, was not enough to control his damn cock and his damn mind. When Miles had been focussed on the bottle of whiskey in his hands, Bass had looked at the small smile that had been playing with her lips when her eyes had met his in a way they never met Miles'.
He is on his way to his room to get some fucking sleep. He is frustrated as hell. His hands are in his pockets. When he walks past her door he tells himself to keep on going. But then, his trained ears pick up on something that makes him hold his breath. Images of what the hell is going on, on the other side of this damn door in front of him are invading his thoughts.
There it is again. That sound that forms that one image of Charlie coming all around his damn cock. It has been there on repeat in his damn mind as nonstop torture. He pulls his hand over his moustache and mouth. It is driving him fucking insane. His right hand can't give him what only she can.
He craves to feel her again, that wet and tight feeling of Charlie so fucking close. He fucking wants to hear it again, that moan that had escaped her lips when he found that right spot deep inside of her.
He craves to personally show her everything she is probably reading about in that damn book of hers. Another soft sound of Charlie out of breath is reaching him through her closed door. He looks over his shoulder. He knows that a brother deep in miserable thought with a bottle of whiskey in his hands outside is no threat for the next couple of hours.
He has thought of it before. Hell, he has thought of this many fucking times. Her touching herself, the fucked up idea of him being the man that would make push her over the fucking edge. Being the man that would make her come with wet fingers buried deep inside of her. And now she is so fucking close as he hears another soft mean. Being patient when Charlie Matheson is panting only a couple of feet away from him makes all the remaining rational thoughts leave his damn mind within five seconds.
Bass does not hesitate as he opens her door. He does not even bother with knocking or waiting for her to invite him in. He does not give a fuck right now.
He finds her in her bed. Out of breath, on her right side and with her back turned towards him. Her blonde locks are falling over her shoulder blades and pillow. He can see her arm and her hand between her thighs as contours under the blankets. A candle is burning in its candlestick on the night stand. That damn book with images that are pulling at his cock now too, open and on her nightstand as well.
His eyes move over the page, where a woman on her knees is being well fucked. Her tits enticing and sending another bolt of lust to his , the anonymous hot as fuck woman in that book being fucked from behind in the same way he fucked her in that bathroom fill his chest and balls with pride and lust.
She is silent now. He can sense how she is holding her breath for just a couple of seconds. The room smells of her and the biting cold of the night. Fuck, he wants her. He wants to show her so fucking badly what he can do to her. He wants to do what she is doing there, right before him, tucked under those blankets.
Charlie can hear how he kicks out his boots. She knows she should be pissed. But Monroe just walking his ass in without even asking for her permission and him standing next to her bed now, is only turning her on even more.
She can hear the sound of leather in two large hands and without looking at him he knows he has thrown his leather jacket on the bed. She feels her clit throbbing with him in the room with her. She feels the warmth of her own thighs around her hand. And then, she can feel the shift of his weight on the mattress behind her as he joins her and his hard thighs are making contact with her bare legs under the blankets.
He moves one of his arms under her neck as he gives in to the craving of wanting her against his damn chest. She is warm and when he moves the blanket over the both of them he can sense the warm scent of arousal. The slightest sigh and her tilting her ass towards him are all the approval he needs.
'Couldn't sleep huh?' Bass grunts with a grin on his face.
He smirks smugly at the way she is rolling her eyes and at the same time is responding to his touch. Charlie wants to curse something at him but she knows he will not buy it. She does not even buy it herself.
The rough skin of his fingertips are stroking her hips. Charlie's hand is still placed over her soft and wet curls between her legs when her fingers slowly add more pressure against her clit as Monroe touches her side in slow agonizing but deliberate strokes.
She can feel his cheek brushing her jaw line as his body is an endless shield behind her. She does not even feel the brisk night air in her room as Monroe keeps her warm with his body and the whiskey on his breath.
Her bare legs are rubbing against the rough fabric of his jeans. His warm breath and his scent of whiskey and man are so close. She can feel the scar on his lower arm brushing her skin, the same scar that is imprinted in her wrist and herself.
She feels a possessive kiss in her neck. Bass soaks up the way she is panting because of the way he is touching her as he tastes her again, his lips roaming over the skin of her neck. He moves his tongue over her earlobe and bites it softly.
His hand is now moving from her belly to her thighs. He feels how she is inviting him, how her thighs slowly open for his hand. She tilts her hips forward to meet his hand. The wide palm of his hand brushes the wet curls above her clit. He grunts a curse roughly in her ear.
She feels a surge of want almost crushing her at the way she makes an impact on him, hard cock twitching behind her against her ass now.
He is adding more pressure when his fingers are now roaming smoothly over her clit. Her wet fingers are falling against his hand, when he takes over her course to her orgasm. It's his skin against her skin when she feels his fingers at work. His fingers brushing her entrance. New waves of lust are making her head spin.
'Don't..' Charlie's mind desperately tries to find the right words as her mind is dizzy with need for more.
She feels the smug huff of breath, his breath, behind her as it is crashing against the skin of her neck. He is enjoying this. She should be angry. She can't. Because his voice is there again.
'What..Charlie..' Her name has never sounded more obscene as he is pronouncing it right now. '...tell me...Charlie..' There is infuriating endless ego in his voice but also a low vibrating certainty she cannot outrun anymore.
Charlie squeezes her thighs together around his wide hand. Her own hand still crushed between her own thigh and his hand. 'Don't stop...' She finally finds the strength to talk again as she can sense his hot mouth so close to her jaw, his fingers on her clit. 'Don't stop Monroe...'
His eyes turn from deep blue to a hint of darkness at that last word of her. He bites her neck harder than he did before, as he hears his last name rolling of his lips, instead of the name he craves to hear from her. He knows she knows as he can sense the tension running through her. His hand claims the inside of her thigh roughly.
Charlie pants, feeling the change in him Bass...Bass...Bass, his name is pulsating through her mind between the throbs of her clit under his fingers. But she is not ready yet. So she melts into his arms as she makes more space between her thighs to let him in. She gives in, opening up for him, moaning softly as she presses her whole body against him.
Her melting into his chest and touch soothes a dark edge inside of Bass. He kisses her shoulder more gently now, his mouth moving over the skin he has just attacked before.
Bass moves his free hand under her shirt. His hand claims her left breast. He adds more pressure, taking personal pleasure in making her moan again. He takes his damn time and Charlie is done waiting. A strong throb in her clit almost too painful with anticipation now. She is about to explode. The sound of the name that is pounding through her mind every time he strokes her clit is almost rolling of her lips.
He can hear the battle in her wild breathing, in the way she is trying to gain more fraction with her thighs around his damn hand. He can see her struggle. But even he is not cruel enough to make her wait.
His fingers claim his clit all for himself and Charlie forgets about ego and how much she is supposed to not want this. And then, the possessive kiss from before turns into a softer one, as his lips move over to her shoulder and his arm presses her against his cock, hard and waiting for her behind her. Bass watches how she is losing herself because of his fingers buried between her thighs. She is fucking beautiful.
'Got you...' Bass's voice is husky and so close to her ear as he makes slow circles around his clit. Experience dictates his rhythm.
He slips a finger inside of her. And then another. He lets them slip inside of her in deeper until he finds a spot deep inside of her with skilled fingers. It makes her feel dizzy and wanted and taken care of. A new sensation she has never felt so deep inside of her fills her and pulsates through her belly.
There is pleasure and lust swirling in her lower belly and between her thighs. The build up of pleasure almost too much now.
'I can't...' she pants, she moans as he rubs her body against chest. He keeps her locked in one place with a strong arm and warm breath in her hair. There is a sob escaping from her lips. 'Bass...I can't..'
Bass lets out a sharp wave of breath when his heart beats strongly in his chest. There is a surge of heat moving through his heart and cock when she finally reaches out for him. Him.
But there is no smug ego, only the shattering need to hold her and make her come and hold her so fucking close he is not sure either of of them can breathe anymore.
He adds more pressure to her clit as he keeps on moving his fingers inside of her with a slow certain rhythm.
'You're okay...let go...' Bass whisper roughly in her ear... 'Let go, Charlie...'
She feels the build of impossible pressure with his harsh breathing behind her and her panting around his fingers. And when she is sure she can't take it anymore his soothing voice is close to her ear again when she tries to hold on for one second until she can't stop herself falling over the edge and she has to let go.
She comes hard, with her thighs around his hand and him pulling her towards his chest while he is muttering her name into her hair. Her thighs stay strongly around his arm clenching around hard muscles and the scared flesh on his lower arm .
Her orgasm is deep. Her body keeps on coming around his fingers and arm between her legs.
Somewhere far away she notices how Bass slowly brings her down from her pulsating heavy high with a gently brush of his hand that cools her heated skin and breathing that is out of control.
Her heavy breathing fades into slow relaxed breathing. She does not want to move. She can't move. The last thing she senses is a warm chest and Bass adjusting the blankets around her before she falls asleep.
His hand is still wrapped between her thighs as he feels the shift in her body and her weight against his chest and legs. His fingers are still soaked with her release. Her skin is still heated and warm against his shirt and he can feel her radiate through the fabric of his shirt. His shirt is soaked with his sweat. And hers.
He is still hard as fuck. But she is asleep. Her warm ass is pressed against his hard on of the fucking century. He feels the start of panic. He can't even remember how long it has been since a woman fell asleep against his chest without a presidential order telling them it was expected of them.
He thinks back to the many whores in Philly that never gave him what he truly craved for, too far gone to even admit that to himself. He thinks back to the whores in New Vegas. Drunken fucks and desperate girls who all wanted a piece of Jimmy King. He thinks back to the one woman that had pulled him away from death when he had arrived in Vegas. But Charlie is not Duncan. Hell, she is so much fucking more and she does not even know it herself.
He feels more panic in the pressure in his jaws, in the lines of his neck. There is new sweat clinging to the shirt on his back. His heart beats faster. But then her breathing evenly in his arms yanks him away from the spread of deep, dark panic.
He knows he shouldn't. He knows he should get the hell out of her bed and her room. But then he feels her hair against his scruff. He feels her asleep with so much trust in his embrace break through that panic. And the panic and the urge to leave her bed fade with every soft sound she makes in her sleep.
And when she moves closer to him in her sleep and the warmth of her body melts into his chest under the blankets, Bass finally gives in. She gives him no other choice as he falls asleep with his hand hidden between her warm toned thighs.
Author's Note Thank you so much for your reviews for last chapter, I am so grateful for all of them! I will publish a new chapter next week and I hope to meet you there for another chapter? Enjoy your day! Love from Love