Page 9 of Asher's Answer
Is it too soon to feel this way?Probably. Is acknowledging that going to prevent me from wanting him?Nope.
“Which is why I said I’d like to explore the connection,” Charlie answers, sounding amused. “We can go slow…but I already know your interests and mine are more than compatible.” He hesitates. It almost seems strange to see the uncertainty on his face. “Unless you’re not interested. That won’t change the offer of a room and board, okay? I just…” he shrugs, “I’m interested in you, and I’m not gonna hide that.”
I force back the urge to do a little happy dance. This seems too good to be true.
“But…I’m not sure how often I’ll want to be little.”
“That’s okay. Like I said, I’m not looking for someone who is always little. I want a boyfriend to take on dates and hang out with, too.”
The way he says it is guarded, and I wonder why. Is it possible his last little didn’t want that? I’ve read that some people want to be looked after constantly, but I grew up with a controlling father, so I can’t imagine not having some semblance of independence. But I’m getting ahead of myself here.
My gut twists as another realization hits me: I can’t offer Charlieanything.
“Well… I can’t exactly bring any value to this relationship. I mean, I’m homeless and jobless and it’ll look like I’m using you…”
I’m pulled into his lap midway through my rant. This is rapidly becoming a position I enjoy far too much. “Sweetheart,” he soothes, “you’re not homeless. You live here now. And you’re actively looking for a job: one will turn up soon. Also, I know you’re not using me. If anything, I worry that you’ll feel obligated…”
“But I-”
I’m silenced with a kiss to my lips.
His kiss is everything and I’m lost to it within seconds. He kisses me chastely at first, but I open for him and our tongues twist together, finding a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing.
In his mouth, I can taste the sweetness of the coke he’d had with dinner, and I melt into him. He kisses me with intent, but it’s not overwhelming. Fuck the fact that we’ve only just met, this feels too good to stop.
There’s no pressure in Charlie’s kiss, but there’s obvious desire. With me straddling him on the couch, I can feel his erection pressing against mine and it’s so much more intense than any other kiss I’ve had in my life.
Part of me wonders if that’s because he knows my deepest, scariest secrets -the kinks I’ve been ashamed of for years- and that he accepts them…hell, he even wants to partake in them. Or maybe it’s the inherent power play. He’s a Daddy and I’m…well, I want to be his little boy.
“Ohfuck,” I curse, feeling my balls tightening. That last thought almost sent me right over the edge. I haven’t come in my pants since my early teens.
Charlie groans into my mouth. The sound is insanely hot.
Deepening the kiss, I take my pleasure from his mouth and continue to grind against him.
This should feel weird.
I only just met this guy, and I only broke up with Cooper a few days ago -not that we’d had sex recently, come to think of it- but the blood flow to my brain isn’t working so well right now. Besides, Charlie is letting me set the pace here, and I get the feeling that he’d stop the moment I asked him to.
I have no intention of doing that. People have sex with others they’ve only just met all the time, right? Isn’t that what one-night stands are? Just because we didn’t meet in a club or on a hook-up app doesn’t mean we’re not both looking for the same thing….not that I want this to be a one-night hook-up, mind you. I don’t think Charlie does either. Anyway, even if that was the case, the only people who can judge us in this moment are ourselves, and I get the feeling Charlie wants this as much as I do.
If he doesn’t think it’s weird, neither do I.
“Baby…” he breathes against my lips and the gravel in his voice almost does me in. He sounds as needy as I feel. It’s empowering.
Rutting against his answering hardness, my breath quickens and I know I’m going to go over the edge. I don’t want to come in my pants, but I don’t want to stop, either. I buck my hips and hear myself fuckingmewl,“I…I’m gonna…”
“It’s okay,” Charlie’s big, rough hand is at my fly. He’s popping the button and lowering the zip, and the relief once he’s sprung my dick from the constrictive material is immediate. “I’ve got you.”
Those beautiful, reassuring words are heaven to my ears.
I open my mouth to say something, but the words leave me because that same hand is stroking me -skin on skin, my precum easing the way- and it takes all of three pumps of his fist before I’m shooting over his hand and his shirt, crying out my release as I come.
I feel boneless as he tucks me back into my underwear but leaves my jeans undone. He wipes his hand on his already filthy shirt, and I shake off the post-orgasmic haze and reach for his cock.
“Not tonight,” he says, carefully holding my wrist, and I frown. He’s hard as steel in his pants. I don’t understand.
“Why not?”
