Chapter 16 #2
I pushed forward, crowding him up against the counter. “I’m asking what you want, Charlie. I’ve told you what I want—you. All of you. However I can have you. So, tell me how to make you feel good. Tell me how to ground you.”
He gripped my collar. “I want to feel you inside of me,” he whispered.
My breath shuddered out. “Okay,” I answered, voice tight. “Did you ever try on your own?”
Charlie buried his face in my chest. “Yes. With my fingers.”
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” he said, voice muffled. “Sometimes I could reach this spot…”
I groaned, pulling him away from the counter and backing him up toward the bed. “Yeah? And how did it make you feel, baby?”
“Good.”
“I’ll give you that again.” I laid him back on the sheets and watched his eyes go molten. “I’ll make you feel so, so good.”
He yanked me down on top of him. “I don’t want anyone else, either, you know,” he said, kissing me roughly. “Even if I had billions to choose from. I’d find you all over again.”
“Charlie.”
There was little talk after that. I couldn’t get over how alive he felt beneath me, shuddering under my fingers as I pulled off his shirt, dropping kisses down the planes of his chest.
Stretched out, his belly pulled tight, and I couldn’t help but use my teeth and tongue to taste the soft skin underneath his navel. He reacted beautifully, shivering and jerking at my touch like a live wire.
He nearly squeaked when I lunged up to suck a nipple into my mouth, flicking it with my tongue. Clawing at the back of my Henley, he pulled it up as far as he could and shoved his hand down the seat of my pants to grip my ass.
“Wanna feel you,” he whined.
I sat up, straddling him, and tugged my shirt over my head, tossing it away.
Usually, I avoided this part with Josh and others before him.
We’d either fuck in the dark or I’d leave my shirt on because I didn’t like to feel analyzed or exposed.
Seeing the comparison of our bodies in their eyes burned.
But there was only raw hunger in Charlie’s as he drank me in, gaze darting across my hair-covered chest and following my prominent happy trail down to the soft pouch of my belly that I’d never been able to get rid of. “C’mere…” he mumbled, tugging on my torso.
I scooted further up until my knees were tucked into his armpits. His hands ghosted along my chest and belly, as if testing how firm I wanted to be touched. “I can’t stop looking at you,” he breathed, digging his blunt nails in. “Since the day we met. I wanna—”
Pupils blown so wide his eyes were nearly black, he shimmied backwards to brace his shoulders on the wall behind him, elevating his head.
“Wanna what?” I prompted, voice reedy.
He groaned, as if frustrated he couldn’t find the words, and buried his face in my stomach instead.
With a deep inhale, he breathed me in and reached up to scratch his nails through the dense hair across my pecs.
“I wanna taste you here,” he said, so needy and wanting it made my cock pulse.
He rubbed his cheek against my chest, his hands, lips, and tongue dragging across every inch he could reach.
I leaned into it, nearly purring. “God, Charlie,” I moaned.
“I wanna know what you feel like, everywhere,” he continued, biting at the soft swell of my belly, and again at the sensitive skin under my nipple. “I wanna know what it’s like to be covered by you, to drown in you.”
Fucking hell. I’d never felt more seen, more wanted, more worshipped than by him in that moment.
“Yes,” I replied. To all of it. “Yes, baby. Whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He flicked my nipple with his tongue and pulled away to peer up at me, grinning feral and wide. “Whatever I want, big guy?”
I nodded dumbly. I was a dog on a leash, ready to beg for the scraps of whatever he gave me.
Ready to grovel, if it made him happy. “Uh-huh.”
Wasn’t I the one meant to be taking him apart? And yet there I was, silly putty in his hands.
“Good. Because I want you to show me how to suck your cock.”
I swore, unprepared to hear such unfiltered need in his voice. My dick pulsed again, still trapped in my pants, and I helped him along in yanking them down until it bobbed free, the thick length fully hardening inches from his wet mouth.
Charlie watched in rapt fascination as a bead of precum formed at the tip. For a second, I worried he had second thoughts. “It’s alright if you’d rather not—uh!”
Charlie leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the head. I slammed a hand onto the glass above him to brace myself; even that tiny touch made me lightheaded.
Alright, so the man knew what he wanted—who was I to argue?
“That’s really good, baby,” I gritted out, eyes wide. I couldn’t help but kick my hips forward once, twice, tagging him on the mouth with the head. “Keep going.”
Charlie might hold my leash, but he bloomed beneath my praise. Growing more confident, he wrapped one hand around the shaft, thumb slotting into the sensitive V on the underside of the tip, and dug his other hand into my meaty backside.
“I love how hairy you are,” he mumbled, massaging my ass cheek. “Here. Everywhere.”
“Uh-huh,” was all I managed in reply before he yanked me forward to lick off the next drops of precum that formed, one after the other.
My hips stuttered with each teasing touch, blunt cockhead dragging across his perfect, pouty lips before he captured it again with his tongue.
My brow furrowed. “Baby,” I ground out, both hands up on the glass now to keep from gripping the back of his head and feeding him my cock the way I wanted. “You gonna get a move on? I’m dying, here.”
He laughed, deep and throaty, before slurping down as much of me as he could at once, both hands gripping the backs of my thick thighs.
His mouth felt neither warm nor cool, like an exact match to my own body temperature. But it was wet, sloppy, and whatever he was doing with his tongue nearly had my eyes rolling back.
“Oh, God,” I croaked. “I love the way your mouth feels. So good.”
He peered up at me. Tears clung to his long lashes, and his throat fought to keep me inside.
Fucking. Hell. “Such a pretty fucking crier.”
He pulled off with a soft pop. “Call me pretty again.”
And then he swallowed me back down, the muscles of his throat working overtime to fight his gag reflex.
I stopped protesting my own urges and tangled my fingers in his hair. With a proper grip, I gave a tentative rock of my hips, just enough to suggest, to ask for permission to thrust deeper.
He palmed my ass in assent, a wicked gleam in his eye when he burrowed his fingers between my cheeks and traced around my rim.
I jerked forward. “Pretty baby likes to tease? That’s a two-way street.”
He groaned and swallowed.
With a shout, my back bowed like he had my soul in his throat and not my dick. I couldn’t shift my hips very much with my pants still wrapped around my knees, but I made do, cradling his nape while I surged forward and claimed his mouth.
“I wanna watch your throat take me all day,” I panted, dragging my thumb over his Adam’s apple. “You’re doing so good.”
He whimpered.
My other hand left wet condensation streaks on the window as I moved, slipping along the fogged-up glass. Release barreled toward me. My cock swelled, and I pulled out roughly, blinking heavily and trembling from the intensity of stopping right before the point of no return.
Below me, he gulped down air, chest heaving. “I like doing that,” he panted and grinned, cheeks wet with tears.
“I like you doing that, too,” I replied when I caught my breath.
He laughed. “More. Let’s do more.”
I scrambled up, kicked off the rest of my clothes, all sense of self-consciousness gone, and helped him out of bed so we could switch places, with me sitting on the edge and him standing in front of me.
Shifting from foot to foot with a pair of my joggers still cinched around his waist, all of his earlier bravado fled, and he looked uncertain in a way he hadn’t before.
The pent-up tension from my near-orgasm relaxed, and I gently reached out to bring him forward, wrapping my arms around his middle and resting my chin on his stomach.
I peered up. “All good, baby?”
His eyes went from hesitant to trusting in a blink, and I knew I’d sketch him like this later.
“All good.” He wiped his face and cleared his scratchy throat. “You?”
I quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’m not actually sure you are a ghost. Judging by what you just did to me, I think a succubus is a more apt description.”
He flashed me his dimples.
“Yes, I’m very good, Charlie. And now it’s your turn.” I dipped my fingers into his waistband. He was still hard, tenting the front of the soft cotton in a way that was so erotic I knew I’d sketch that, too. “If you want?”
He nodded, resting his hands on my shoulders.
I placed kisses up one side of his stomach, burrowing my face in the heady scent concentrated in his underarm—sun-warmed cotton—before kissing back down the other side, stopping right below his navel.
Slowly, I tugged his pants down in increments until just the tip of his cock peeked out, glistening and begging for attention.
He wasn’t wearing any underwear, so precum leaked all over. I rested my thumb just under the head, gently teasing up and down. “Oh, pretty baby. Look at you. Did you like sucking me so much you made a mess all over yourself?”
He whimpered, fingers bunching in my shirt. “Yes.”
Charlie was sharp and witty most of the time, but this version of him, soft and needy, might become my favorite.
Because it was mine.
I leaned forward and licked the tip, teasing him just as he’d done to me.
“Holy shit, Reece.” His hands scrabbled along my shoulders, fingers rooting in my hair. I tugged his pants down the rest of the way, supporting his weight as he kicked them off each foot until he was bare before me.