Chapter 22 Charlie
“You’re mine, Charlie.”
Arousal floods Charlie at the unexpectedly possessive tone. Sure, Eden's been in control in the bedroom before—lots of times—and has had Charlie on his back or his knees or any which way he wants him. But he’s never looked at Charlie quite like this, like he wants to own him.
It is the single hottest thing to ever happen to Charlie, and he tugs at his wrists, almost forgetting he’s tied up.
Right. No touching. He doesn’t need to ask why.
Eden’s given him enough scraps of information that Charlie can imagine why Eden needs to be in complete and utter control right now.
Charlie doesn’t want to dwell on the why because it sours his good mood, fills him with anger and helplessness when he thinks about what his beautiful boy has endured.
These kinds of thoughts would probably get him punched if Eden knew what he was thinking.
What Eden doesn’t understand is it’s not pity.
It’s love. Charlie isn’t stupid enough to say that yet, knows Eden would only run again if he uttered the three words on loop in his brain right now.
But he knows it's true, thinks maybe it’s been true since the first moment he laid eyes on Eden.
Eden is tenacious and strong and so fucking beautiful it takes Charlie’s breath away.
He can’t believe he spent all week moping when he could’ve been here with Eden, like this.
Thank fuck for his brothers talking sense into him, reminding him that his fragile ego that had never actually been rejected before was being a dickface.
Sure, Eden ran, but Charlie knew, somewhere deep down, that Eden wasn’t running from Charlie, but from himself.
He gets it now. Eden might run, but Charlie will follow. He’s always going to follow, for as long as Eden will let him.
“Whose slut are you?” Eden asks, crawling on top of Charlie. His hair falls down around his face, framing his delicate features. If Charlie’s hands were free, he’d be touching it right now, possibly another reason why Eden needed to tie him up.
“Yours.”
“That’s right.” Eden leans over him, yanking open the drawer on the end table. He stops, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “I don’t have condoms. I don’t…I’ve never brought anyone home. Not that I brought you, you just showed up.”
Charlie recognizes the defensiveness for what it is, nerves.
“Remember? We’ve been tested, and we’re negative across the board. There hasn't been anyone else since the day I met you. It’s only been you for a long time, Eden.”
Despite his assurances, Charlie is fully prepared for Eden to change his mind about Charlie fucking him. Sex without a condom is a big step, and one not everyone wants to take, ever. Something Charlie respects. He’s comfortable with it, but that doesn’t mean Eden will be.
“You could—” Charlie starts, words cut off when Eden crashes their mouths together, leaving Charlie helpless to do anything but writhe and moan beneath Eden while Eden devours his mouth.
His kiss is relentless, something frenzied in it.
Their first kiss had been desperate, but that was different, this is—demanding.
As if Eden has accepted Charlie is his and is taking everything he wants.
As Eden’s tongue slips into Charlie’s mouth, there’s movement, and it takes Charlie’s kiss focused brain a second to make sense of what is happening.
“I wanna see,” Charlie says, unsure why it comes out sounding like he’s begging.
“Why?” Eden asks, whether he’s serious or merely wants to hear how desperate Charlie is for him makes no difference. Charlie is happy to oblige.
“Because I need to see those perfect fingers of yours sinking into your body. I wanna see you open yourself up for me, getting yourself ready for my cock.”
“It’s not that big,” Eden huffs, back arched and face slightly pinched.
Charlie would give anything to be able to touch Eden right now, to kiss away the lines on his face and be the one whose fingers are slipping into his body.
For now, he can wait. Maybe if he’s a good boy, next time Eden will let him do the honors.
“I’m big enough to fill you.”
The words have Eden groaning, unexpectedly responsive to one little sentence.
“You like that idea, baby? You like the idea of my cock inside of you, filling you up?” Eden grunts, his breath hot against Charlie’s cheek.
Maybe he doesn’t need to look, because feeling Eden’s dick against his hip as Eden tries not to rub off on him while prepping himself is so fucking hot.
“You like it,” Eden grunts.
“Damn right I do. You have any idea how good you’re going to look bouncing on my dick? How much I want to see you fucking yourself, using my dick for your own pleasure.”
Eden whines, the sound broken by another moan that must come from Charlie, even if he doesn’t realize he is making it. Has he ever been this desperate to be inside someone? He doesn’t think so.
“Wanna fill you up. Wanna see you make yourself feel good with my cock, watch you take everything because it’s all for you. Everything is for you.”
“Shut up, Charlie.”
“Make me.”
“Fine,” Eden grits out, his lube slick fingers suddenly on Charlie’s erection. The pleasure is spine-tingling and all too brief, but Charlie doesn’t have long to mourn the loss of Eden’s hand because then Eden is on his knees, lining Charlie’s cock up and sinking down on it without warning.
One of them, maybe Eden, maybe Charlie—it’s impossible to tell which of them—moans loudly. And oh yeah, that's Charlie because he makes the sound again when Eden rises onto his knees and slams back down, doing exactly what Charlie goaded him to do—take.
There’s nothing slow or gentle about this fucking, and while that is something Charlie would very much like to explore at some point, for now he lets himself enjoy the feeling of being inside of Eden.
Charlie’s fucked enough people that the physical part, good as it feels, is nothing new.
What is new are the feelings in his chest. Giant, loud feelings screaming at him to worship and claim and protect.
Sex has always felt good, but it’s never felt so consuming.
“Eden,” Charlie cries, unable to pretend he’s anything but desperate. He tugs at the belt around his wrists, wanting to touch so bad it hurts. Still, he keeps his arms above his head, ignoring the tightness in his shoulders and the aching in his heart.
“Stupid fucking cock is huge,” Eden groans.
“Thought you said I wasn’t that big.”
“I lied,” Eden admits, resting his hands on Charlie’s chest. “You’re big.”
“Is that a good thing?”
Eden nods, blowing the hair out of his eyes as he rocks his hips. “S’good. Feels good.”
It’s hardly the most effusive response, yet it lights Charlie up like a goddamn firework.
His baby feels good, because of him. Or at least because of his dick.
He’s not actually doing anything but lying here looking pretty, but that too, is what Eden wants—what he needs—and being able to give him that is satisfying in ways Charlie never dreamed.
Sex is great. It’s always been great. Charlie’s a slut for a reason, after all. But this? Sex with someone he actually cares about? It’s fucking life-altering.
Something about the sight of Eden fucking himself, all that pale skin and fair hair, sets Charlie on fire.
It’s not just the way it feels, not just the tightness surrounding him or how gloriously intense it is to be inside Eden without a condom, it’s all the little sounds he makes and the way he’s not holding back.
Eden feels safe with him, even if that takes Charlie being restrained a bit, and that feels good in a way he’s never experienced during sex.
Physical gratification is good, and Charlie is dangerously close to coming already, but the emotional satisfaction of having Eden back with him—of being inside of Eden—is enough to have Charlie near his breaking point.
“I’m gonna come.”
Surprise flickers across Eden’s face, his movements slowing. Instead of the frantic pace he was setting, he rises up and slams back down, before grinding slow and deep, pulling sounds from Charlie he didn’t even know he could make.
“I want to come.”
“I bet you do,” Eden grins. “Because you’re a slut for me, aren't you?”
“Yes,” Charlie pants. “You feel so good. So tight. So hot. So perfect. I could fuck you forever.”
“Clearly not, if you’re about to come already,” Eden snorts, dropping his hands down on either side of Charlie’s head.
He opens his mouth, not exactly kissing Charlie, more just dragging his lips over Charlie’s open mouth.
His movements still, neither of them doing more than sharing breath, the tip of Eden’s tongue dragging over Charlie’s bottom lip then into his mouth in a kiss so deep and dirty Charlie’s toes curl.
“You gonna come for me like the needy whore you are?”
“So close,” Charlie whines. “But…but you aren’t yet.”
“Don’t you worry about me, Charlie. You said I could take what I want from you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“What does that mean?” Charlie asks, trying to chase Eden’s mouth when he pulls back.
“You’ll see,” Eden tells him, pushing him back onto the mattress with a hand to the chest.
Expecting Eden to keep riding him, he’s unprepared to have Eden completely pull off his dick.
“What—oh. Oh fuck,” Charlie curses, eyes rolling in the back of his head when Eden deep throats him. That’s all it takes, the tip of his cock slipping down the back of Eden’s throat, for him to shoot his load, filling Eden’s mouth with his release.
This is the point where Eden would usually be teasing Charlie about being a slut or coming too fast, so the silence is surprisingly enough to pull Charlie out of his haze of post-coital bliss. Kneeling between his legs is Eden, come dripping down his chin and his mouth closed and full.
“What are you doing?” Charlie gapes.