Page 131 of Break the Rule
“You didn’t have to, Eden. I’m a lot of things, but oblivious isn’t one of them. I know what you did in the past, and I know some of them hurt you. I can’t change that, but I can do whatever it takes for you to feel safe.”
Safe.
Oh, how that word makes Eden ache. What would it be like to feel safe all the time? Not just when he’s hidden away at home with Addy and Ella but out in the world? What would it be like to not be afraid he shouldn’t wear the makeup or skirts he likes? What would it be like to be loved and not be afraid of being left behind? What would it feel like to besafe?
“Don’t cry, baby.”
Is Eden crying? He touches his cheeks, surprised to find wetness there. Stupid fucking feelings. He didn’t give his body permission for this.
“Maybe we should just talk.”
“No.” Eden doesn’t want to talk. He wants to fuck. He wants to be fucked. He wants to be filled with Charlie, wants to touch and kiss and consume. He wants to pretend for one goddamn moment that he’s not an amalgamation of trauma hidden behind a pretty facade.
He wants to feel good. He wants to enjoy sex with someone who likes him and not think about the past or the future, about the people who hurt Eden or about the possibility that Charlie might change his mind.
He wants to be fucked by Charlie and forget everything except for this moment.
“I think I can handle that,” Charlie says, expression softening. This time Eden doesn’t close his eyes or look away. He devours it, memorizes it, knows that if one day Charlie leaves at least he will have this memory of Charlie looking at him like he’s perfect.
“I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud,” Eden admits, yanking off his sweatshirt and tossing it to the floor. “You make me do stupid things.”
“I hope we can do a lot more stupid things together. Preferably while naked.”
“Slut.”
“Yourslut,” Charlie reminds him, stretching himself back out on Eden’s bed and raising his arms, belt still wrapped around his left wrist.
Shucking off his boxers before climbing onto the bed to straddle Charlie’s waist, Eden grabs the belt, wrapping it around Charlie’s right wrist until he can’t move his hands. There’s no headboard to tie them to but he trusts Charlie to keep them there, pressing them down into the pillow as he lowers his mouth to Charlie’s and kisses him.
Growing up, nothing was his to keep. He didn’t have his own bedroom. No toys. No family. Hell, at more than one point, he didn’t even have his own socks or underwear. He got shunted around with borrowed belongings in a trash bag. He belonged to no one and nothing belonged to him. Eventually, Eden gave up caring about possessions; they never lasted anyway. Or so he thought. He wants to possess Charlie, to keep him like the kind of special treasure he was never, ever allowed to have.
Charlie King ishis.
22CHARLIE
“You’remine, Charlie.”
Arousal floods Charlie at the unexpectedly possessive tone. Sure, Eden's been in control in the bedroom before—lots of times—and has had Charlie on his back or his knees or any which way he wants him. But he’s never looked at Charlie quite like this, like he wants toownhim.
It is the single hottest thing to ever happen to Charlie, and he tugs at his wrists, almost forgetting he’s tied up. Right. No touching. He doesn’t need to ask why. Eden’s given him enough scraps of information that Charlie can imagine why Eden needs to be in complete and utter control right now. Charlie doesn’t want to dwell on the why because it sours his good mood, fills him with anger and helplessness when he thinks about what his beautiful boy has endured.
These kinds of thoughts would probably get him punched if Eden knew what he was thinking. What Eden doesn’t understand is it’s not pity. It’s love. Charlie isn’t stupid enough to say that yet, knows Eden would only run again if he uttered the three words on loop in his brain right now. But he knows it's true, thinks maybe it’s been true since the first moment he laid eyes on Eden.
Eden is tenacious and strong and so fucking beautiful it takes Charlie’s breath away. He can’t believe he spent all week moping when he could’ve been here with Eden, like this. Thank fuck for his brothers talking sense into him, reminding him that his fragile ego that had never actually been rejected before was being a dickface. Sure, Eden ran, but Charlie knew, somewhere deep down, that Eden wasn’t running from Charlie, but from himself.
He gets it now. Eden might run, but Charlie will follow. He’s always going to follow, for as long as Eden will let him.
“Whose slut are you?” Eden asks, crawling on top of Charlie. His hair falls down around his face, framing his delicate features. If Charlie’s hands were free, he’d be touching it right now, possibly another reason why Eden needed to tie him up.
“Yours.”
“That’s right.” Eden leans over him, yanking open the drawer on the end table. He stops, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “I don’t have condoms. I don’t…I’ve never brought anyone home. Not that I brought you, you just showed up.”
Charlie recognizes the defensiveness for what it is, nerves.
“Remember? We’ve been tested, and we’re negative across the board. There hasn't been anyone else since the day I met you. It’s only been you for a long time, Eden.”
Despite his assurances, Charlie is fully prepared for Eden to change his mind about Charlie fucking him. Sex without a condom is a big step, and one not everyone wants to take, ever. Something Charlie respects. He’s comfortable with it, but that doesn’t mean Eden will be.
