Chapter 12 Charlie #3
“Bad enough to do anything,” Charlie admits, pretty sure he could come from kissing alone, if Eden would kiss him again. He’s not kissing Charlie now, he’s teasing him, letting his own lips brush over Charlie’s, only to inch back when Charlie chases his mouth.
Charlie feels like a goddamn dog chasing a bone. He’s hungry for it, hungry for Eden.
“Beg me,” Eden goads, blinking those blue fucking eyes of his at Charlie. “Beg me like the fucking slut we both know you are. Beg me to bend you over and fill you the way you’re gagging for it. Beg me to own you.”
“Fuck,” Charlie curses.
“Nu-uh, Charlie.”
“Get us inside and I’ll beg,” Charlie tells him. “My keys are in my front pocket.”
There’s a half-second pause where Charlie isn’t sure what Eden will say or do, but then his nimble fingers are digging around in Charlie’s pocket until he withdraws the key, leaning around Charlie to slide it into the lock and turn it.
When the deadbolt clicks, Charlie moves, all but dragging Eden inside the house and kicking the door shut behind them, holding Eden up with one hand while he locks the door again before lowering Eden to the ground.
Charlie yanks his shirt off, throwing it God knows where before flicking open the belt on his pants, letting them fall open before dropping to his hands and knees.
He turns his eyes on Eden, watching his slowly dawning awareness and the way his skirt tents with his arousal as Charlie crawls towards him.
“What are you doing?” Eden questions.
A thrill runs through Charlie as he crawls between Eden’s legs beneath his skirt, tipping his face up in submission.
“Begging,” Charlie whispers.
The myriad of expressions that cross Eden’s face—surprise, awe, arousal—sear themselves into Charlie’s brain. Eden is a work of art come to life, and Charlie wants to revel in him.
“Please, Eden. Fuck me. Use me. Do whatever you want with me because I’m your slut. Yours.”
“Mine,” Eden whispers, curling his fingers under Charlie’s chin and tipping it up further so the line of Charlie’s throat is arched close to the point of discomfort.
It makes him hyper aware of the movement of his Adam's apple when he swallows, the position oddly exposing and more than a little arousing.
“Yes.”
“You really would let me do whatever I wanted to you, wouldn’t you?” Eden asks, fingers toying with Charlie’s lips.
Charlie hums his agreement, trying to suck Eden’s fingers into his empty mouth. Eden doesn’t let him, pulling them back and making Charlie whine.
“You have such a pretty mouth, Charlie.”
Preening under the praise, Charlie grins. He’s not embarrassed to admit how much he likes being told he’s handsome or talented. Where Andrew hides away from praise, Charlie revels in it. Especially from Eden.
“You know what it’s good for, don’t you?” Eden croons.
Confident he knows where this is going, Charlie spreads his legs wide to seat himself in the perfect position, letting his lips fall open.
“Telling you how beautiful you are?” Charlie smirks, unable to resist a bit of playful teasing. Especially because it’s true. Eden looks so fucking beautiful tonight. Every night. Everything about him is perfect. Something he says out loud because Eden scoffs.
“Shut up, Charlie.”
“You could make me.” Charlie can’t keep the edge of desperation out of his tone, folding his hands in his lap to try and hide his own erection where it strains against his pants.
Sex is not new for Charlie. Being horny is not new for Charlie.
Being this fucking desperate for it? That part is very new for Charlie.
It sends hot waves of arousal and embarrassment through him.
“I could, couldn’t I?” Eden pushes a few stray pieces of hair out of his eyes before lowering his gaze to Charlie. “Is that what you want tonight? You want me to fuck your mouth? You like every single one of your holes being used, Charlie?”
Charlie curses, pressing the palm of his hand against his dick.
This has got to be a record for Charlie.
He hasn’t felt this close to coming without being touched since he was seventeen and realized how much he liked sex.
Admittedly, he was an ignorant teenager, so he was probably bad at it back then, but it’d still been fun as fuck and felt incredible.
“You want it, don’t you.” It’s not really a question so Charlie doesn’t answer, barely containing a moan when Eden steps between the spread of his legs—the ruffles of his skirt tickling Charlie’s cheek before he lets the hardness of his erection rub against Charlie’s open mouth.
Desperate for it, Charlie mouths at him through layers of cotton and too many ruffles, dry humping the air as he drools on Eden’s skirt.
Some part of him expects Eden to push him away, or to take a step back, to slow Charlie down somehow or erect an invisible wall.
That fear prickles at the edge of his consciousness, unfamiliar and unwanted.
He’s never cared if someone left, hell most of the time he did the leaving, but the idea of Eden walking out again has something painful tightening in his chest.
“Looks like we found something your mouth is good for,” Eden whispers, dragging his fingers through Charlie’s hair so his nails scratch Charlie’s scalp. It hits the exact pain-pleasure button in Charlie’s brain that makes him melt, his eyes falling shut on a moan when Eden does it a second time.
“My pretty little whore,” Eden praises, managing to make it sound like some kind of term of endearment and not a self-imposed label Charlie adopted years ago because telling people he was a slut or a whore before they called him one made him feel powerful instead of judged.
He owned it, but right now Eden is owning him, and that’s something Charlie’s never experienced before.
“I bet you’d love getting that mouth of yours on my cock.”
“Please.”
“Look at you begging already. You want to bury your head under my skirt and suck me off like the good little cockslut you are, Charlie?” Eden’s fingers curl in the back of Charlie’s hair, anchoring him in place as Eden rubs his erection against Charlie’s open, eager mouth—every catch of ruffled cotton making him more desperate.
“Yes.”
The hands in his hair loosen, but Charlie doesn’t have time to mourn them because Eden’s shoving his boxers down to his knees then lifting his skirt to reveal his cock which is just as perfect and pretty as the rest of him.
Unlike Charlie, he’s circumcised. His cock is long and thin, just slightly crooked, and the base of it nestles in a patch of nearly white blonde hair like that on his head.
The crown is flushed bright pink, a bit of precome pooling at the tip, and Charlie wastes no time retrieving a condom from the entryway table where he’d stashed some extras the night Eden stood him up.
He tears it open, rolling it down Eden’s length with his mouth and smirking at the sound it draws from him.
As soon as Charlie’s mouth surrounds the tip of Eden’s erection, he drops his skirt over Charlie’s head so that Charlie is choking on Eden’s cock while hidden under the ruffled material.
It’s not the first time Charlie’s had his head under someone’s skirt, but it’s the first time he’s had his head under Eden’s skirt, and he appreciates every second of it.
“Fuck,” Eden curses, his legs shaking as if Charlie has done anything more than hold his cock in his mouth. He’s barely moved.
Focusing on the weight of Eden’s cock on his tongue and the delicious sounds he makes, Charlie begins to bob his head, entirely unprepared for the way Eden’s hands fist in his hair through the skirt.
There’s not an ounce of Charlie that is humble, but even he can admit he’s barely sucked.
Eden must be incredibly responsive or sensitive, either one is a boon to the part of Charlie’s brain that gets off on pleasing his partners.
It doesn’t take long to figure out that everything he does makes Eden groan and grunt.
He tries to pull back to see Eden’s face but Eden shoves him back under the skirt, thwarting Charlie’s attempts to watch Eden come undone.
If Eden won’t let him look, the next best thing is to hear him.
He’d been fairly quiet when fucking Charlie before, vocal in his commands and his desires but restrained with any other noises.
He’s not quiet now, broken off grunts and whines fill Charlie’s ears as he sucks Eden’s cock like he was born to do it.
He pulls out every trick he knows, his hands roaming up Eden’s thighs and around to fondle his balls while he takes him in as deep as he can.
Charlie’s got a gag reflex, but he’s also got a decade of practice under his belt, and he knows exactly how much he can push it.
Push it he does, sucking Eden down as far as he can go before pulling off and doing it again.
The sounds Eden makes get louder and increasingly more broken off. A moan that turns into a sob, a curse that goes quiet. Almost as if he forces himself to try and take back the sounds before he can finish them.
Wanting to hear them all, Charlie lets his hands roam until he’s massaging Eden’s ass and fingering his taint while choking on his dick—spit sliding down his chin, making a mess of his face. It must be splotchy and flushed from the heat of being hidden under his skirt.
When Eden comes, there’s no warning, no sounds. If anything, Charlie thinks he’s gone too far, one finger slipping between Eden’s ass making him go deathly quiet and still before the condom is swelling with Eden’s release.
Gasping for breath, Charlie pulls off and suckles Eden’s thigh, kissing the juncture of his upper thigh then the tip of his softening cock before pulling the condom off to tie up.
Eden’s skirt flutters, falling down around his thighs and exposing Charlie to the cool air.
Pride floods Charlie when he takes in Eden’s splotchy, post-orgasm face.
Fully prepared for a thank you or maybe to be told what a good cocksucker he is, he tips his face up to Eden’s in anticipation. To his surprise, what comes out of Eden’s mouth is neither.
“Fuck you, Charlie.”