Page 70 of Break the Rule
Desperate for it, Charlie mouths at him through layers of cotton and too many ruffles, dry humping the air as he drools on Eden’s skirt.
Some part of him expects Eden to push him away, or to take a step back, to slow Charlie down somehow or erect an invisible wall. That fear prickles at the edge of his consciousness, unfamiliar and unwanted. He’s never cared if someone left, hell most of the time he did the leaving, but the idea of Eden walking out again has something painful tightening in his chest.
“Looks like we found something your mouth is good for,” Eden whispers, dragging his fingers through Charlie’s hair so his nails scratch Charlie’s scalp. It hits the exact pain-pleasure button in Charlie’s brain that makes him melt, his eyes falling shut on a moan when Eden does it a second time.
“My pretty little whore,” Eden praises, managing to make it sound like some kind of term of endearment and not a self-imposed label Charlie adopted years ago because telling people he was a slut or a whore before they called him one made him feel powerful instead of judged. He owned it, but right now Edenis owning him, and that’s something Charlie’s never experienced before.
“I bet you’d love getting that mouth of yours on my cock.”
“Please.”
“Look at you begging already. You want to bury your head under my skirt and suck me off like the good little cockslut you are, Charlie?” Eden’s fingers curl in the back of Charlie’s hair, anchoring him in place as Eden rubs his erection against Charlie’s open, eager mouth—every catch of ruffled cotton making him more desperate.
“Yes.”
The hands in his hair loosen, but Charlie doesn’t have time to mourn them because Eden’s shoving his boxers down to his knees then lifting his skirt to reveal his cock which is just as perfect and pretty as the rest of him. Unlike Charlie, he’s circumcised. His cock is long and thin, just slightly crooked, and the base of it nestles in a patch of nearly white blonde hair like that on his head.
The crown is flushed bright pink, a bit of precome pooling at the tip, and Charlie wastes no time retrieving a condom from the entryway table where he’d stashed some extras the night Eden stood him up. He tears it open, rolling it down Eden’s length with his mouth and smirking at the sound it draws from him.
As soon as Charlie’s mouth surrounds the tip of Eden’s erection, he drops his skirt over Charlie’s head so that Charlie is choking on Eden’s cock while hidden under the ruffled material. It’s not the first time Charlie’s had his head under someone’s skirt, but it’s the first time he’s had his head underEden’s skirt,and he appreciates every second of it.
“Fuck,” Eden curses, his legs shaking as if Charlie has done anything more than hold his cock in his mouth. He’s barely moved.
Focusing on the weight of Eden’s cock on his tongue and the delicious sounds he makes, Charlie begins to bob his head, entirely unprepared for the way Eden’s hands fist in his hair through the skirt.
There’s not an ounce of Charlie that is humble, but even he can admit he’s barely sucked. Eden must be incredibly responsive or sensitive, either one is a boon to the part of Charlie’s brain that gets off on pleasing his partners. It doesn’t take long to figure out that everything he does makes Eden groan and grunt. He tries to pull back to see Eden’s face but Eden shoves him back under the skirt, thwarting Charlie’s attempts to watch Eden come undone.
If Eden won’t let him look, the next best thing is to hear him. He’d been fairly quiet when fucking Charlie before, vocal in his commands and his desires but restrained with any other noises. He’s not quiet now, broken off grunts and whines fill Charlie’s ears as he sucks Eden’s cock like he was born to do it. He pulls out every trick he knows, his hands roaming up Eden’s thighs and around to fondle his balls while he takes him in as deep as he can. Charlie’s got a gag reflex, but he’s also got a decade of practice under his belt, and he knows exactly how much he can push it. Push it he does, sucking Eden down as far as he can go before pulling off and doing it again.
The sounds Eden makes get louder and increasingly more broken off. A moan that turns into a sob, a curse that goes quiet. Almost as if he forces himself to try and take back the sounds before he can finish them.
Wanting to hear them all, Charlie lets his hands roam until he’s massaging Eden’s ass and fingering his taint while choking on his dick—spit sliding down his chin, making a mess of his face. It must be splotchy and flushed from the heat of being hidden under his skirt.
When Eden comes, there’s no warning, no sounds. If anything, Charlie thinks he’s gone too far, one finger slipping between Eden’s ass making him go deathly quiet and still before the condom is swelling with Eden’s release.
Gasping for breath, Charlie pulls off and suckles Eden’s thigh, kissing the juncture of his upper thigh then the tip of his softening cock before pulling the condom off to tie up. Eden’s skirt flutters, falling down around his thighs and exposing Charlie to the cool air. Pride floods Charlie when he takes in Eden’s splotchy, post-orgasm face.
Fully prepared for a thank you or maybe to be told what a good cocksucker he is, he tips his face up to Eden’s in anticipation. To his surprise, what comes out of Eden’s mouth is neither.
“Fuck you, Charlie.”
13EDEN
Pleasure thrumsthrough Eden’s veins, sharp and intense, flooding his system with the same endorphins. No one has ever touched Eden the way Charlie does. No one.
There is a hunger in Charlie, a desperation, and for all Eden likes to goad him about being a slut, maybe that’s all it is. Maybe Charlie is that eager with anyone. But for a guy like Eden, whose only experiences with sex were harried or transactional, who performed and was used for someone else’s pleasure, there’s something deeply overwhelming about being touched like someone can’t get enough of him.
Eden thought he was prepared. No one has sucked his dick before, but he’s sucked plenty. Enough he quite literally lost count. It’s the easiest trick to turn—and the quickest. Eden’s fucking good at sucking cock, and he knows it. Letting Charlie do something to him that no one else had ever done seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe because Eden was too horny to think clearly, but also because Charlie King—older, successful, handsome Charlie—quite literally got on his hands and knees and crawled to Eden, begging.
He hadn’t needed to beg. Eden was going to let Charlie suck his dick either way, but there had been no denying how powerful Eden felt. More than that though was howwantedhe felt.
No one has ever begged for Eden.
Of course, he’s been desired before, wanted in a myriad of ways. Eden was chosen over and over. As a kid, he’d been trotted out like a show pony to prospective parents—his delicate looks and angelic features made him look docile. His fair skin, blond hair and bright blue eyes were a beacon for conservative parents. Then they’d gotten to know Eden, and things changed. Things always changed when someone got to know Eden. It was no different turning tricks. He knew exactly what to do to be the person someone was paying him to be. There was no part of Eden that was real for those men because no one was picking therealEden. No one was dropping cash for a mouthy, trauma-riddled teen. They wanted the doe-eyed, docile version of him, and that’s what they got.
It’s part of what makes sex with Charlie so exciting. He’s never gotten to be himself with a sexual partner, never gotten to be mouthy and demanding without the threat of repercussions. Maybe it’s not what he wants all the time, but it clearly turns Charlie on, and it puts Eden in the position of power, making it the closest thing to safety he’s ever felt during sex.
Somehow, instead of making him relaxed and happy, this pisses Eden off. How dare Charlie be so fucking good at sucking cock. How dare he be the antithesis of toxic masculinity, letting Eden do and be whoever he wants in and out of the bedroom without trying to change or control him. How dare he make Eden feel wanted for the first fucking time in his life.
