A heads daughter (Waterloo road)

031

Tom opened the door to see Charlee there. He frowned as he looked to her. "What?"

"I am having your baby! You do not get to do this! You do not get to push me away like I'm nothing! I am the mother of your child!"

"Don't come here yelling at me."

"Then don't tell me that you think it's best we don't talk! I'm pregnant!"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Why did you tell your sister I'm the father?" He asked as he looked to her.

Charlee wiped away some tears. She looked to him. "Because I'm feeling so alone right now. I have no one to talk to. And my sister is the only one who I can rely on. My mum hates me for god knows what reason. Everything seems so messy at the moment," she sobbed.

Tom saw the look of heartbreak on her face. He knew how he had been treating her was wrong. And he felt bad. "Don't cry. Go and get yourself a drink or something," he said.

Charlee walked into the kitchen. She knew how it was all a mess at the moment. And she hated how complicated her life had been. She just wished it would be simpler.

Tom walked over to her. His lips found hers as she settled back on her elbows, traveling to her neck as his fingers bunched the scrap of material she'd donned as a shirt above her breast.

She felt his tongue tease her puckered peaks, lightly trailing over them enticing small hitches in her breathing.

His hand ventured lower, slowly circling her clit with each pass he made along her slit. His mouth engulfed her nipple, softly sucking as two fingers slid into her.

Charlee's hand instinctively nestled in his hair, watching both his mouth and fingers at work.

The visual along with his ministrations had her breathing labored and her hips grinding against his hand long before his thumb pressed against her clit.

His eyes shifting to meet hers sent her over the edge, her moan stifled by his lips covering hers again.

Her hand tugged at his hair when his fingers curled inside her, coaxing everything he could from her climax before gently easing her back down.

Charlee's chest was still heaving when he pulled her to her feet, spinning her so she faced away from him.

"Bend over the counter," he said.

Her lip twitched at the fact that he hadn't asked, merely maneuvered her where he'd wanted her.

She knew the outfit consisting of his shirt and her black lace panties would lead to sex, his domineering side was a pleasant little bonus.

His thighs tickled the back of hers as she rested her elbows on the granite surface.

A hand quickly pushed her so her chest was flat against the counter, the other moving to lift his shirt she was wearing high enough to grant him access.

Charlee moaned as he filled her, lifting her slightly with each thrust.

"Fuck, Tom..." She grunted, her palms flat on the counter.