Page 69 of Break the Rule
“So bad.”
“Bad enough to beg?”
“Bad enough to do anything,” Charlie admits, pretty sure he could come from kissing alone, if Eden would kiss him again. He’s not kissing Charlie now, he’s teasing him, letting his own lips brush over Charlie’s, only to inch back when Charlie chases his mouth.
Charlie feels like a goddamn dog chasing a bone. He’s hungry for it, hungry for Eden.
“Beg me,” Eden goads, blinking those blue fucking eyes of his at Charlie. “Beg me like the fucking slut we both know you are. Beg me to bend you over and fill you the way you’re gagging for it. Beg me to own you.”
“Fuck,” Charlie curses.
“Nu-uh, Charlie.”
“Get us inside and I’ll beg,” Charlie tells him. “My keys are in my front pocket.”
There’s a half-second pause where Charlie isn’t sure what Eden will say or do, but then his nimble fingers are digging around in Charlie’s pocket until he withdraws the key, leaning around Charlie to slide it into the lock and turn it.
When the deadbolt clicks, Charlie moves, all but dragging Eden inside the house and kicking the door shut behind them, holding Eden up with one hand while he locks the door again before lowering Eden to the ground.
Charlie yanks his shirt off, throwing it God knows where before flicking open the belt on his pants, letting them fall open before dropping to his hands and knees. He turns his eyes on Eden, watching his slowly dawning awareness and the way his skirt tents with his arousal as Charlie crawls towards him.
“What are you doing?” Eden questions.
A thrill runs through Charlie as he crawls between Eden’s legs beneath his skirt, tipping his face up in submission.
“Begging,” Charlie whispers.
The myriad of expressions that cross Eden’s face—surprise, awe, arousal—sear themselves into Charlie’s brain. Eden is a work of art come to life, and Charlie wants to revel in him.
“Please, Eden. Fuck me. Use me. Do whatever you want with me because I’m your slut. Yours.”
“Mine,” Eden whispers, curling his fingers under Charlie’s chin and tipping it up further so the line of Charlie’s throat is arched close to the point of discomfort. It makes him hyper aware of the movement of his Adam's apple when he swallows, the position oddly exposing and more than a little arousing.
“Yes.”
“You really would let me do whatever I wanted to you, wouldn’t you?” Eden asks, fingers toying with Charlie’s lips.
Charlie hums his agreement, trying to suck Eden’s fingers into his empty mouth. Eden doesn’t let him, pulling them back and making Charlie whine.
“You have such a pretty mouth, Charlie.”
Preening under the praise, Charlie grins. He’s not embarrassed to admit how much he likes being told he’s handsome or talented. Where Andrew hides away from praise, Charlie revels in it. Especially from Eden.
“You know what it’s good for, don’t you?” Eden croons.
Confident he knows where this is going, Charlie spreads his legs wide to seat himself in the perfect position, letting his lips fall open.
“Telling you how beautiful you are?” Charlie smirks, unable to resist a bit of playful teasing. Especially because it’s true. Eden looks so fucking beautiful tonight. Every night. Everything about him is perfect. Something he says out loud because Eden scoffs.
“Shut up, Charlie.”
“You could make me.” Charlie can’t keep the edge of desperation out of his tone, folding his hands in his lap to try and hide his own erection where it strains against his pants. Sex is not new for Charlie. Being horny is not new for Charlie. Being this fucking desperate for it? That part is very new for Charlie. It sends hot waves of arousal and embarrassment through him.
“I could, couldn’t I?” Eden pushes a few stray pieces of hair out of his eyes before lowering his gaze to Charlie. “Is that whatyou want tonight? You want me to fuck your mouth? You like every single one of your holes being used, Charlie?”
Charlie curses, pressing the palm of his hand against his dick. This has got to be a record for Charlie. He hasn’t felt this close to coming without being touched since he was seventeen and realized how much he liked sex. Admittedly, he was an ignorant teenager, so he was probably bad at it back then, but it’d still been fun as fuck and felt incredible.
“You want it, don’t you.” It’s not really a question so Charlie doesn’t answer, barely containing a moan when Eden steps between the spread of his legs—the ruffles of his skirt tickling Charlie’s cheek before he lets the hardness of his erection rub against Charlie’s open mouth.
