Chapter 15 #2
I nod, not surprised by Charlie’s change of subject. He’s never done well with emotion, not feeling nor showing it. Likely, I realize only now, because he’s battled with far too many emotions his entire life. Hiding equated to survival.
I push the melancholic thought away and pick up the wrapped present, passing it over to Charlie as he sets the books aside.
He spares me a curious glance before opening the bundle with deft fingers.
He pauses once the paper falls loosely away, the construction of the item not entirely unfamiliar to him.
“It’s not what you think,” I say before he can come to the wrong conclusion.
He lifts the garment carefully. “A corset?”
“No. A corset falls under one’s breasts in order to highlight them. This covers the chest fully.”
His eyes spring to me. Shock. Hope .
“It will bind your chest, my dear. Women at the theatre use one if they are to play a man. The circumstances are different, of course, but I thought it might help you feel…more yourself.”
Charlie examines the material, the laces at both sides meant to be pulled tight, shaping the upper body as smoothly as possible. “Can I try it on?”
“Of course.”
Charlie stands, and I hold the material as he unties his cravat and pulls his shirt over his head.
He stands before me seemingly unabashed, but he doesn’t meet my eye.
I help secure the binding fabric around his midsection, pulling the laces on one side tight and then the other.
It takes a couple times to find the right fit so that it’s even, but once done, I step back.
“Is it comfortable?”
Charlie’s fingers drift over the edges lightly, voice soft. “More comfortable than a corset. My shirt?”
I hand it over quickly, and Charlie pulls the garment back on, tying his own cravat as I watch.
My chest feels tight in a way I suspect is different than what Charlie is experiencing.
He’s come so far already. Taken immeasurable steps.
I can see it in the way he stands and how he no longer tries to act the part of a lady, a role that never fit.
For the first time in his life, he’s being granted the opportunity to let his inner self shine through. And it’s absolutely breathtaking.
I loved him before. From almost the very start.
But what I feel now seeing Charlie find the person he was always meant to be? It can’t be categorized by four simple letters. It’s so much grander than love. Far more vast and dangerous. I fear I would burn the world down just to watch Charlie walk free.
Maybe, one day, I’ll be able to .
With his shirt in place, Charlie walks to the mirror. I follow behind him, watching his gaze in the glass. His chest does look flatter, and he runs a hand over himself, turning to see the effect from all angles.
“If you do not like it, you never need wear it,” I tell him gently. “You’re handsome with or without the bindings, my love. Your comfort comes first.”
He turns to me without a word, his eyes meeting mine as his hands slip under the edges of the coat I’ve not yet removed since arriving home. He slides the heavy fabric off one arm and then the other, taking a moment to hang it in my wardrobe before returning.
Charlie unfastens my waistcoat next. “I love it, Arthur. I do. I wish I didn’t have need for it, but I can’t deny I like how it makes me feel.”
“And how is that?” I ask, fairly certain, by Charlie’s current intentions, I can hazard a guess.
He rids me of my waistcoat before guiding me over to the bed. The backs of my knees hit, and I sit down, welcoming Charlie into my lap.
“Bold.” His hand finds my cock through my trousers, bringing me to hardness as his lips press wet kisses to my neck. “Confident and desired.” He tugs my head back, a breath leaving me as he presses his weight down onto my lap. “Covetous.”
“Is it your husband you covet, dear Charlie?”
His lips touch feather-soft to my own. “Always.”
“Then take what you will from me, my heart. I am yours in every way.”
Charlie kisses me fiercely in response, our lips locked as he unbuttons my trousers with a swift hand.
He opens his own, too, sliding them down his hips and pulling me free before pressing my weight to the bed.
With a roll of his hips, he slides himself along my cock, our breath stuttering in tandem.
Charlie uses me to bring pleasure to himself, the friction along his sensitive bundle of nerves ratcheting him higher and higher until, minutes later, he cries out into my mouth, shaking and shuddering, his nails digging into the bedsheet and against my chest. It’s all I need to find my own climax, Charlie’s pleasure the tipping point that has my muscles locking tight and every fiber of my being vibrating like a plucked cord.
My shirt catches the mess, Charlie continuing to roll against me as he lets out a panting sigh, not allowing a single moment of his gratification or my own to be lost.
When he finally speaks, it’s on a breath. “Arthur.”
The knock at the door has the both of us stilling.
“Your supper,” comes a strained voice.
I clear my throat. “Thank you, Ruby. You may leave it at the door.”
Charlie’s wide eyes meet my own.
“Well,” I say lightly, not wanting him to worry over what Ruby likely heard. “I think it best you feed me, my love. Being ravaged is quite hungry work, I’ll have you know.”
As I’d hoped, Charlie’s lips spread into a smile, a shy yet satisfied glint there.
He runs his fingers through the hair at my temple, his expression turning serious.
“Art. I cannot imagine many people have the capability to love someone the way you love me. I will never take for granted the breadth of your heart. Please know it is always safe with me.”
I lean up enough to pull Charlie in for a kiss, my pulse a quick beat within my veins. His cheeks remain flushed when we part, and I’m certain I’ve never seen a lovelier sight.
I don’t speak it aloud, but what I’ve always known is that Charlie and my heart are one and the same. There’s no splitting the two apart. I was made to love Charlie Valentine, now Kane.
No matter the form in which he came to me.