Chapter 32 Charlie
charlie
I had spent the entire week believing I was unlovable, letting my mother’s cruel words fester.
She hadn’t just called me a worthless loser for marrying some lowly former hockey player—that much was real.
But in my head, the attack never stopped there.
I could hear the things she would have said if she’d wanted to go for the kill: An athlete?
What does an athlete even see in you—with that body?
You’ll be left before the ink on the marriage license dries.
Her imagined voice followed me everywhere, slicing into me while I picked apart my reflection, convinced every flaw was proof she would have been right to say it.
Jacob had tried to reach out a few times, but I ignored him. I shut everyone out, even Austin.
Yet, as I watched him in the mirror now, his tongue dragging across my skin, I’d never felt more beautiful.
My body moved without thought, my hips grinding against his face.
The breasts I used to hate, always thinking they were too big, too much, now bounced with each pulse of pleasure.
My hair, never blonde enough—too caramel for her standards—fell in soft waves down my back.
With every touch, he reminded me why he’d told me to stand in front of the mirror—so I could finally see the beauty he saw.
“Yes, Austin,” I moaned.
His tongue went to my sensitive nub as he licked, applying gentle pressure.
“So fucking sweet,” he growled between sucks.
The mirror reflected more than just my body—it showed me a woman who was desired, cherished, and wholly alive. Every flaw I thought I had was worshipped under Austin’s touch. The image was intoxicating, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I believed I was beautiful.
Austin’s tongue circled my clit with slow, deliberate strokes, his lips sealing around it before he gently sucked. He slid his fingers up and tangled them in the strip of hair on my pussy.
“You know,” he murmured. “I love this. It’s perfect—soft, natural, just like you.” He slowly traced it with his thumb.
Tears pricked my eyes, but the need pulsing through me was too strong to let them fall. I clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I panted.
“Austin,” I cried out, my voice breaking, “I need you inside me. Please—I can’t take it anymore.” I scrambled to pull him closer, desperate and trembling. “I need you now. Please.”
He leaned in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss just below my navel, his voice a rasp against my skin. “Are you sure?”
I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want it to be you.”
There was so much more behind my statement. I needed him to show me how beautiful I could be. I needed him to worship me. I was choosing him.
“There will be lines, honey. Lines we’ll cross. Lines that’ll blur.”
I met his gaze, unwavering. “I know. Let them.”
“Okay,” he said softly, and his lips curved into a tender smile. “If you change your mind, you tell me. We stop the second you want to.”
He released my leg and walked over to the bed, pulling the cream-colored bench from its place at the foot.
He threw off his shirt and the rest of his clothes, throwing them into the corner of the room.
He dragged the bench across the floor, positioning it directly in front of the mirror where I stood.
“B-But we could just use the bed,” I stammered.
“No. I want you to see what you do to me. And I want to watch you.”
As he positioned the bench, my stomach twisted. I’d never watched myself like this before.
“What if I look ugly?” I blurted. “Or what if I do it wrong?”
Austin froze for a moment, then straightened and turned to me.
“You could never be ugly,” he said firmly. “Not to me. Not ever.”
I thought of all the times my mother’s voice had chipped away at my confidence, telling me I wasn’t enough—not pretty enough, not good enough.
Yet with Austin’s unwavering gaze on me, I felt something shift.
For the first time, I wasn’t just trying to be beautiful despite her words.
I was determined to rewrite them entirely.
I’d be everything she said I couldn’t be.
I swallowed down my fears, letting a new sense of determination wash over me.
“Sit,” I said, motioning to the bench.
Austin smirked but didn’t hesitate, lowering himself to sit on it.
We adjusted our positions, angling ourselves so the mirror captured a side view of our bodies.
I could see the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his muscles flexed as he settled in, and the curve of my own body as I moved to him.
My reflection no longer felt like something to avoid—it was a revelation.
In the mirror, I saw myself—soft curves, flushed skin, and steady thighs framing my hips.
I was strong, I was beautiful, and for the first time, I could see it for myself.
My eyes fell to Austin. His thick, muscular frame filled the bench, broad shoulders relaxed, and his chest rising with heavy breaths. It was his eyes, dark and brimming with lust, that made my pulse race. His hard length stood ready.
Without a word, he scooted back. His hands quickly found my waist as he guided me. I placed my knees on either side of his thighs, our bodies aligning perfectly. The mirror captured everything—the strength of his frame beneath me, the hunger in his gaze, and the tension that sparked between us.
“I was so scared,” I whispered as I hovered over his length.
His brows furrowed. “Of?”
He tightened his hands on my waist, and I brought my forehead down to his.
“You said you loved me,” I breathed, desperate for him to confirm it again—away from the cameras, to me and me alone.
“Y-You don’t have to say it back. I didn’t, uhm, don’t expect you to.”
His eyes roamed over my face, searching for something, anything—an answer I didn’t have. Not yet. His gaze was intense, filled with hope and fear, as if my response could make or break him.
“Let this be my answer, for now.”
As I sank onto him, the stretch was devastating, his thick cock pushing past my entrance, forcing me open inch by inch.
The burn was sharp, the pressure intense, and it made my breath hitch in my throat.
He filled me completely, his size overwhelming, every inch pressing deeper until I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began. His hands clamped down hard on my hips.
A loud, desperate moan ripped from my throat, and I threw my head back, my hair spilling in wild waves down my back. The feeling was unbearable and perfect all at once, my body trembling as it adjusted to him.
“Fuck, Char,” Austin groaned. “Look at us. Watch how fucking good you look.”
I forced my eyes to the mirror, my chest heaving as I watched our bodies come together.
His cock disappeared inside me, and he stretched me wide with every roll of my hips.
My tits bounced with each thrust. His gaze was glued to the sight, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he groaned again, his restraint hanging by a thread.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned back to him, and he didn’t hesitate.
He latched onto my nipple, sucking hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.
The sharp pleasure made me cry out, my hips grinding down on him, desperate for more.
From this angle, I was just a little taller than him, and it gave me the perfect leverage to ride him harder.
His lips tugged and teased, his tongue flicking mercilessly, and the sound of his groans against my skin sent another wave of heat pooling between my legs.
“Look at yourself,” he demanded. “Tell me what you see.”
I looked down at Austin and grabbed onto his shoulders, digging my nails in as I started to bounce on top of him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and I looked back at the mirror.
“Use your words,” he growled.
“I-I see . . .” I struggled to form a coherent thought.
He was so big, stretching and filling me in a way that made everything else pale in comparison. No one else could ever make me feel like this. No one. He gripped my hips tighter, guiding my movements, helping me ride him harder, deeper, as he groaned with pleasure.
I turned my focus back to the mirror, my eyes locking onto the image. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his curls wild and untamed as his head tilted back. The sight of his body beneath mine, his thick cock disappearing into me with every thrust, was hypnotic.
“I see us,” I murmured.
“Is that ugly?”
His eyes flicked toward the mirror, directing my attention back to it.
I watched as our bodies moved in perfect sync, my curves rolling against his hard frame, his hands gripping me possessively.
I saw a wife seeking and claiming pleasure from her husband, a woman unapologetically taking what she wanted.
“No,” I whispered. “It’s . . . beautiful.”
Austin’s gaze returned to mine, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. He nodded in approval. “Exactly.”
He returned his attention back to my nipple, and I arched backward, offering myself to him completely. What was unfolding between us was a slow, burning passion—sensual and deliberate. It was everything I had ever craved.
I gripped his shoulders tightly, my body curving into a perfect backward C.
I thrust my hips forward, feeling him bury himself deep inside me, then I pulled back just as quickly, relishing the way his thick cock bottomed out with each movement.
I wasn’t just giving; I was taking. Greedy.
Desperate. Driven entirely by raw, carnal need.
“You feel so good,” I mewled.
Each thrust sent him slamming into my G-spot, a burst of white-hot pleasure coursing through me every time. My head fell back, and I let the sensations consume me.
Austin’s grip on my hips tightened as his thrusts deepened. His lips brushed against my ear, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down my spine.
“Are you on birth control?”