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Charlie had known you since you were sixteen. He hired you for the first time when he was still with Nicole, before the entirely messy divorce had unfolded.
You were bright eyed and eager to please, which he liked. He was even more gratified when Henry took an immediate liking to you, especially since Henry didn’t click with many others.
He adored the way that you adored Henry, how you indulged to him one time that you saw the job more like hanging out with a friend; that you didn’t see Henry as an obligation, but as someone you enjoyed being around.
He was especially thankful that following the divorce you still didn’t seem to mind in the slightest to keep babysitting for him when he had obligations he simply couldn’t get out of; or in simpler terms— him not wanting to bring Henry to the theater and keep him up past his bedtime.
Charlie cursed himself for the way he took more notice of you the moment you turned eighteen— the way you interacted with Henry, the way your lashes would flutter when you wished him goodnight before you left, the way your soft lips would curl into a gentle smile when he’d walk in the door.
He scrutinized the way he could recall every flick of color in your irises. The way your skin looked soft and supple. He damned the innocent air that surrounded you, the one he so desperately wanted to defile and tear into with his teeth.
He knew it was wrong, and he hated himself for it. But goddamn could he not help himself when he got sight of you.
He looked forward to the private moments when Henry was fast asleep that you two would share a small and admittedly polite conversation, typically about the books you were reading before he would unfortunately wish you goodnight and safe travels home.
He cherished those moments because while you’d ramble on about everything you and Henry had done in the evening, he’d get to stare into your eyes— look over your gorgeous features— and if he was feeling particularly daring and depraved, sneak a glance down your body.
Tonight was no exception. It was a little after ten pm when he pulled open the door. He watched as you perked up at his arrival and he selfishly relished in the attention.
“Hi, Charlie. How was everything at the theater?” you spoke in a hushed voice, same as you did every night. He watched as you shut the book in your hands, placing it in your lap as he pulled off his coat and set down his case.
“Oh, you know…” he said with an airy chuckle, allowing his eyes to look over you again as they did when you first arrived earlier this evening. He looked forward to looking at you more so when he’d arrive home, in the privacy of just you and him.
“Henry’s asleep?” he asked, eyes looking over your chosen outfit. The shirt you wore from a band that he without a doubt believed you’d barely knew of their greatness as they came before your time. That pleated tennis skirt that stopped just at the beginning of your thighs. His eyes wandered farther, down to the ankles of your socks and that pair of utterly adorable mary janes.
You nodded curtly, and he watched those lips of yours pull up into the corners. “He had dinner- all he wanted was mac and cheese, so I gave in." you giggled sweetly, "Then we played board games for a while before he went to bed at eight, like you asked.”
‘Good girl’ had almost burst from his lips, but he quickly stifled it with a gentle clearing of his throat. “Perfect. What is it this time?” he nodded toward the book in your lap. You picked it up, outstretching it towards him. “It’s uh, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, are you familiar?”
Charlie hummed as he turned the book over in his hands, he noticed the way your eyes followed his movements. “I am actually. Quite a controversial novel, but I’ll admit the writing is fantastic.”
You nodded again, “I couldn’t agree more. It’s written beautifully considering…" Your gentle chuckle filled the room with such an air of purity, he couldn’t help but crack a soft smile as he handed you back the book.
He watched as you stood, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt— his sign the night was ending… tonight, he couldn’t let that happen. He held up a thick finger, “Hold that thought, will you?”
He took notice to the confused look in your wide eyes, but you nodded once more, and with the okay he slipped into his bedroom momentarily, running his fingers along his vast collection of books until he found what he was looking for.
Returning a moment later with a haste to his steps as he couldn’t wait to be facing you once more, he held out the book in your direction. “Here, this is for you.”
He watched your eyes look curiously to the book in his hand before you took it in both of yours. He watched as your eyes wandered the cover of his copy of Lolita, your lashes fluttered in astonishment and disbelief before those eyes of yours met his. “Charlie… you can’t be serious…”
He chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m partial to hardcovers myself,” he used a thick finger to tap the book now in your hands. “This is a first edition print, but it’s still in mint condition.”
His words made your fingers loosen slightly on your grip, your eyes widening a bit more. “Charlie…”
He shook his head, “No, no, take it. I want you to have it.”
Your brows knit lightly as you looked at him, trying to find any ounce that he wasn’t serious— but oh, was he. Just the idea of your small, nimble, perfectly manicured little fingers caressing the pages before you’d turn to the next one made him more than sure of what he was doing. He loved your hands, and how little they were in comparison to his— but then again, everything about him was huge in comparison to you.
“I’m going to give you a hug for this, that’s your warning.” you giggled, making him smile again. His eyes followed you as you turned to carefully place the book on the couch before you turned to him again, practically colliding with him as your arms did their best to wrap around his broad frame.
He easily entangled his arms around you, it only took one of his arms to encompass you, but he indulged himself in wrapping them both around your back, gently rubbing it with his hand.
He felt you sigh softly, felt the rise and fall of your chest against him as his hands slowly tangled into your hair, playing with it around his fingers.
You looked up at him— you looked like an angel. Your eyes wide, blinking softly as you looked up at him. Your cheeks tinged with color.
His heart kicked up speed, he could feel his own cheeks growing pink with fluster. His hand trailed from your back, using his knuckles to caress their way up to your cheek until he took your face against his palm. You were utterly still under his touch as he drew you in closer— his longing to feel you against him was unbearable...
“Would you maybe… let me kiss you?” Your breath hitched in your throat, your chest stuttering slightly in response as he held your gaze to be locked in on his. Your perfect lips parted, but they made no sound. His inquiry had rendered you speechless, forcing you to nod in response.
He felt as his lips curled up into a smile, unable to stop himself. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek, urging your neck to crane further upward to meet his height as he leaned in, watching as your eyelids fluttered shut. He pressed his lips against your plush and plump awaiting lips.
He could feel your heartbeat against his own body, and for a moment he couldn’t discern whose heart was beating faster with the thumping of his own heart ringing in his ears.
He felt your arms snake around his body and press flat against his chest, he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. The feeling of your hands on him was like pure bliss— a sin he’d so often dreamt about. He couldn’t stop himself from letting his hand fall from your face as his arms encircled you, finding their way to the backs of your thighs, feeling just how plush and smooth the skin of your legs were against the pad of his fingers as he pulled you closer to him. He let his thumbs caress your flesh.
He also couldn’t stop the gentle groan of pleasure that pulled from his lips. You were pure ecstasy to him. Your body against his, the gentility of your lips, the sweet and mild smell of your shampoo– all of it overwhelmed his senses and drew him into you, if he had half a mind he’d admit that all of this grew a kindling flame of obsession for you.
Now that he was in, he was all in. All his cards in your basket. Previously he just loved the small things about you but now he felt he had a deeper knowledge of you that dove beyond the surface, and he was drowning in you.
He pulled away just slightly, his lips ghosting over yours not wanting to be apart from them for too long.
“You taste so sweet.” he purred before diving back against your lips, catching your bottom between his teeth as he tugged at it gently. When you whimpered at his actions he felt like his brain was going into overdrive. He was dizzy, his head full of just you and he couldn’t get enough of it.
Your voice was soft, slightly embarrassed, and stuttered as you spoke. “Ch-Charlie… I’ve wanted to kiss you for quite some time now.”
He hummed at your words, fingers teasing shapes into the flesh on the back of your thighs, making your bottom lip quiver as he looked you over. He had you eating out of his palm and that’s exactly where he wanted you. He saw the embarrassment flicker through your eyes at your own admission and he pulled you impossibly closer again– if you were any further against his body you’d be inside his bones, and he wasn’t sure that he minded that idea all that much. Those perfect fingers of yours trailed up and down his chest pulling a deep sigh from within it.
He buried his lips against your neck, tasting how sweet and soft and warm you were and he couldn’t help but imagine how you’d taste from between your thighs. He purred your name, “Jump…” he instructed.
He saw the slight confusion flood over your expression, and he pinched at the back of your thighs again. To his relief, you obliged. Your arms tangled around his neck and with a leap he quickly grabbed hold of your waist as your legs wrapped around his hips.
It seemed you couldn’t control yourself just as he, and your lips immediately found his as he walked you backward before pinning you between him and the wall. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” he hummed against your lips, his cock twitching in his slacks as you whimpered again.
“J-Just don’t drop me, will you?” you piped up, a hint of nervousness in your tone and he chuckled darkly.
“I would never, I’ve got you.” he assured, pushing you against the wall with his hips as his hands gripped your sides. His lips crashed into yours with intense fervor, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip before prodding his tongue into your mouth. You tasted like candy– so incredibly sweet it almost made his teeth ache but he couldn’t get enough.
His fingers teased the hem of your shirt, feeling the fabric of your top against his skin. “Can I take this off?” his tone was as polite as he could manage, but there was a hint of order to it, like it wasn’t truly an inquiry but a warning that he was going to remove it anyway. His lips found your neck again and he was pleased when he felt you nod against him, adorable little whines and mewls gurgled in your throat in desperation. “Arms up, sweet girl.” he hummed.
You didn’t seem to completely trust him to not drop you as you nervously lifted your arms— but just barely. But drop you, he would absolutely not. He dug his hips into yours, forcing a gentle groan to lurch past his lips as his imprisoned cock pressed against your concealed core. The action made your arms rise up as you gasped softly and he wasted no time to tug your shirt over your head.
He pulled back a moment to admire you– your neck, your collar bones, the bulge of flesh that made up your ever-so-perfect and supple breasts and how they bubbled over the white and lacy confining fabric of your bra.
His fingers trailed up your abdomen, feeling the heat radiating off your skin and onto the pads of his fingers and wandered farther, finding their way to the small pink rose embellishment in the center of your breasts. He flicked it gently, chuckling to himself as even your under layers held a breath of innocence.
He couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering as he compared you to the little pink rose, so small, soft and innocent— it was a simple rendition of how he saw you.
His attention was drawn back to your fingers pulling needily at his own top, fingering the buttons of his dress shirt. “Want me to take this off, pretty?” He watched as your teeth bit down on the plush of your lip and you nodded.
He’d never known his fingers to work so fast, grazing from one button to the next with incredible ease as he worked up to the very top button. He couldn’t control his excitement as you assisted him in pulling the top off his arms. He watched as your eyes roamed across him, taking in the rise and fall of his broad chest. One of your arms fell from the grip around his neck, tracing down his pecs.
He held onto your hips, fingers gently gripping at your flesh as he resisted every urge to dig his fingers in, bruise you beneath his touch. You were soft, too pure for that– but he desired with every ounce of himself to taint you.
His lips found your neck again, and he teased his tongue along your skin, before placing open mouthed kisses further down your neck, finding finality against your collar bones. He could feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest against his chin. “Charlie…” you whimpered.
God– he loved the sound of his name off your lips. It made his groin ache, longing to be buried deep in your cunt, begging to hear how it would sound as you screamed it, trembling around him.
Your hips shifted beneath his hands as more whimpers fell from your lips. You grinded your core against his hardness in a desperate attempt for friction, drawing a groan from his throat. “You want something, little girl?”
You whined in embarrassment again, your head finding its way to the crook of his neck as your arms tangled around it once more, holding yourself steady.
He chuckled again, diving his hands between your bodies and dipped his thick fingers beneath the waistband of that oh-so incredibly short skirt you wore this evening. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers teased your clothed core. “This what you want? You need attention here?”
Your pathetic mewl only made his cock twitch again— christ, was he impatient. But you were an angel, he intended on treating you like such... luring you in gently before truly defiling you.
Your hips bucked against his hand, and his lip curled into a smirk again. He slid his fingers over your clothed slit again. “I’m gonna need to hear your words, sweet girl.” The pet name drove you crazy– he knew so from the way the heartbeat between your legs pounded against his awaiting fingers.
“P-Please…” you pleaded pathetically. He hummed again, “Of course, pretty.” His fingers pulled your panties aside and he finally achieved one of his deepest desires– getting to touch you between those pretty little thighs. You whimpered against his skin, tightening your arms ever so slightly around his neck as his fingers barely even touched you.
He slid his fingers between your slit, gathering your wetness on the length of his fingers, and he teasingly sucked his teeth. “For such a good girl you’re so wet…” he purred, pressing his cheek against your forehead. The heat of your face burned in the crook of his neck and you mewled. It was so easy to fluster you.
He stroked his fingers through your core a few times, letting them caress your sensitive nub every now and again to earn more whines of desperation out of you before his fingertip teased your entrance. “Mmm… I’m gonna make you feel so good, little girl.” You whimpered pathetically again and he couldn’t stop himself from smirking.
He took his longest finger and slowly pushed it inside of you, feeling the way your velvet walls sucked him deeper and clenched around him. You felt like a glimpse of heaven, and he longed to bury his dick inside of you instead, but you were incredibly tight only around one finger.
He teasingly sucked his teeth again. “Now, how am I ever going to fit my cock inside your perfect little pussy, hmm? I might split you in half.” His words made you clench around his finger again, and you dragged your hips again. He took the hint, withdrawing his finger before prodding it back inside of you, earning a soft and stuttered sigh out of you.
He let his eyes flutter shut as he rested his head against yours, fucking into you with his middle finger until he thought you were ready, then he eased his ring finger inside you, curling his hand and dragging his fingers as he seemed to pet you from the inside.
He hummed in content at the way you immediately took him in, listening to the soft whimpers that bubbled in your throat as his fingers stroked you. He cupped his hand slightly, catching your clit with his thumb which he wasted no time to rub small circles against. He smirked as your hands gripped tighter around his neck.
Your hips gently rocked against his hand as he held you steady between him and the wall, making sure you weren’t going anywhere. Your walls seemed to suck him in deeper, desperate for his intrusive fingers.
Just on his fingers you felt like a dream– warm, velvety, slick. He adored using his fingertips to explore every centimeter of your walls, poking and prodding every once of you he could find as he curled his fingers inside you.
His head pulled away from the top of your own and he cocked his head to bury his lips against your neck, needing to taste you again as you softly mewled at how his hands worked inside and against you.
His tongue lapped at your skin before he gently sucked on your flesh, his teeth catching before he bit down earning a shocked gasp from you. He couldn’t help but chuckle. He felt like he was biting down into the soft and delicate flesh of a peach. He withdrew himself before grazing his teeth along another spot on your neck, biting down once again. He was gentle, like he made himself promise to be… but every soft gasp you made made him want to bite harder and harder.
Every time he nibbled on your neck you clenched around his fingers and he couldn’t stop himself from working them faster— your sweet, kittenish sounds growing more incessant.
When your breath hitched in your throat and you let out a particularly strained whine, his fingers seemed to act on their own accord, picking up more pace inside of you. “You gonna cum on my fingers, pretty girl?”
You held tighter around his neck, burying your face deeper into his skin as you nodded feebly, more strained whines escaping from your throat. His thumb drew tighter, more meticulous circles around your clit. “Look at me, pretty girl…”
This time your whine was in defiance, not wanting to draw your head away from the crook of his neck. “Don’t make me ask you again.” he warned.
When you withdrew from his neck, he swore he’d died and was facing the great beyond. Your brows were knit perfectly in pleasure, your eyes barely open; drunk on the bliss he was providing you. Your lips were parted, soft pants leaking from between them as your chin trembled slightly. “Fuck... you’re gorgeous.” he groaned looking you over. Your expression was motivation enough for him to push you over the edge, and it didn’t take long with the calculated movements of his fingers for you to crumble in his hands.
Your lips fell into a perfect little ‘o’ as your eyes rolled back before your lashes fluttered shut. Your walls constricted and stroked his fingers as your cunt flooded with warmth. He quickly buried his lips against yours, swallowing down the cries of your rapture to keep you quiet. As much as he wanted nothing more than to hear that sweet melodious pitch of your moans, he knew better than to risk being overheard.
He drew a few more gentle circles over your clit as he worked you through your release before your eyes opened again and found their way to his. A sloppy smile tugged gently at the corner of your lips and he withdrew his hand.
“Open that pretty mouth.” he ordered, and you obeyed instantly. He plunged his thick, slick coated fingers against your tongue. “Suck.”
You mewled pathetically as you followed instructions.
He groaned as your tongue slid between his fingers, lapping up every ounce of your release. Your cheeks dented divinely as you sucked on his digits.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop and quickly brought them to his own mouth, tasting your sweetness and saliva from his own tongue. He hummed against his fingers, the sensation making his cock twitch again and he couldn’t deprave himself any longer of the need to slide himself inside you.
“Think you can take me now, sweet girl?” he purred, dragging his thumb along your bottom lip. When you nodded he sucked his teeth again, “Use your words.”
You whined pathetically before you spoke, “P-Please, Charlie.” His lips pulled into a smirk at your obedience. “Such a good girl you are.”
His hands found your waist as he pulled you away from the wall, your legs clinging to his hips to steady yourself as he carried you as silently as he could down the hall and into the bedroom. He used his shoulder to shut the door, only continuing to the bed when it clicked against the frame.
He laid you on the bed gently as if too much pressure would cause you to shatter. He watched as your back arched upward to meet his hands. They curled into the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down.
His boyish excitement bubbled in his chest at the sight of your delightfully matching set of underwear. He couldn’t help himself from wondering if you always wore matching underwear or, if more self-indulgently, you knew by a greater power that he wouldn’t be able to help himself this evening and you wore them just for him.
You were a divine sight as his eyes roamed over you. The way your thighs met at the top, the smooth skin of your stomach rising and falling as you breathed with anticipation. You were glorious, and you were all for him.
As his hands began to work at the clasps of his slacks your hands snaked under your back to unclasp your bra. He quickly grabbed at your wrist. “Let me.” he pleaded. He needed to be the one to strip you of your clothing. With a nod of verification he withdrew his hand and kicked off his shoes before he stepped out of his pants, pushing them with little care out of the way.
He leaned over your perfect body, starting with an open mouthed kiss just above your pelvis before trailing them upward until he reached the underwire of your bra. His hands encircled around your back, pushing between your skin and the sheets on the mattress to find the clasp against your skin.
When his fingers made contact he fought against his haste to rip it off of you, instead delicately and teasingly unhooking one clasp, then the next, until the only support the bra had on your body was by the straps on your shoulders.
He pulled away from you, writhing his hands away from your back and to your shoulders as he dragged the straps down your arms, watching as your nipples immediately pebbled in the open air of his room.
He oddly missed the sight of the little rose between your breasts, but the supple flesh of your chest made up for its departure. His hands traced down your sides before roaming up toward your breasts, pawing at them as he placed kisses between them– hearing your sweet little hums of pleasure returning as he flicked his thumb over your bud.
He looked up at you from between your breasts, as your hands tangled gently into his hair, combing it out of the way of his eyes. “You’re perfect.” he praised as he pulled his lips away from you.
He stood to his full height, trailing his hands down your sides until his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties. This was it– this was the vision he was waiting for. Your body completely bare for him, every ounce of your flesh ready to be swallowed down by his eyes.
His breath hitched in his throat as he sucked down his excitement. First he saw your hips and the beginning of your pelvis, then he dragged the fabric further, finally bearing witness to your perfect little mound.
He dragged your panties all the way down your smooth legs before discarding them to the floor. He took hold of your knees and pushed them backward so you could display yourself for him.
Your whines of embarrassment as he gazed upon your idyllic cunt didn’t deter him in the slightest. He was swallowing up the vision of you– legs spread, completely stripped down for him.
He couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped past his lips. You were unparalleled. And right now, you were his. His cock twitched at the sight, and he palmed himself through his boxers, keeping one hand to caress up and down the side of your thigh.
As soon as his hand met himself he groaned softly, the excitement coursing through his veins again that momentarily he’d be buried deep inside your sweet cunt. Your awaiting eyes, the slightly nervous expression on your face made you seem ethereal– like you were just a dream and he had to resist the urge to pinch himself to verify that you were in fact very real.
He couldn’t take the wait any longer, it felt like it was eating him alive the longer he stared at the glistening evidence of your prior release still slick on your pussy. He tugged down his boxers with haste, kicking them to join his slacks off to the side. Your breath hitched as you caught sight of his size, making his eyes meet yours.
A smirk pulled on his lips, “I know you can take it, sweet girl.” he cooed, taking himself in his hand and giving him a few strokes. He smeared the precum across his length, circling his hand around his girth. His tip was angry, desperate to be buried deep inside you, and his veins pulsed in agreement. In just a moment he’d be able to feel his cock against your velveteen walls.
He kneeled on the edge bed, running his tip through your folds, making you whimper again. He shushed you gently, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
He coated himself with your slick as he aligned himself with your entrance. He slowly, using all the restraint he had to not just completely sheathe himself inside you, pushed into you. Your cunt immediately clenched, tightening around what little he’d put in.
He groaned, working more of himself inside you as you strained out moans, struggling against his size.
The feeling was beyond what he thought he was prepared for. You were beyond perfect. His fingers did little to prepare him for this. Your cunt squeezed against him while simultaneously trying to draw him in, plush walls fluttering around his length.
He couldn’t stop himself, he pushed all the way into you as far as his cock would go, letting out a guttural groan as he bottomed out. “Fuck- you take me so good… you feel incredible.” he praised. You were reduced to only whines and whimpers as you fought to adjust to him, but he didn’t care.
His fingers drifted from your thighs to your tummy, his eyes widening in admiration as he caressed and admired the bulge in your belly where his dick resided from inside.
Christ, he wanted to fuck you dumb, fuck you so hard that you’d forget your own name, only babbling cock-drunken mumbles.
He pulled out of you, no longer interested if you were adjusted or not before he plunged back inside of you, his head lurching forward as his eyes shut at the feeling. You clearly weren’t fully adjusted yet from your feeble cry, but not to worry, you’d be there soon enough.
He dragged his hips back, his hands finding their way to your hips again as he pulled you down onto him– another cry pouring from your lips. He indulged himself with the unrealistic idea that a pretty little thing like you had never been touched before, that you were all encompassingly his.
He hissed through his teeth, his own brows knitting over the idea. “F-Fuck…” he groaned. He found a rhythm, fucking into you as gently as he could but his need was quickly winning him over as he increased the pace of his hips.
The way you whimpered his name drove him wild. Your chest rose and fell heavily, your fingers clutching tightly at his bedsheets.
He leaned over you, pressing his lips to your neck again as he gently nibbled and sucked at the skin, your hands wrapping under his arms stabilized by your head– fingernails scratching down his back as he bucked his hips into you. His cock slid between your plush walls, he hissed curses as he sank down into you, pressing them against the skin of your throat.
“Fuck-” he purred your name, “You’re amazing.” he praised, making you whimper again.
You pressed your hips to his with every withdrawal, as if you couldn’t stand the idea of him pulling out of you, as if you couldn’t wait for him to fill you again.
He bit down onto your neck, a little harsher than he’d admittedly meant to, making you mewl out. He withdrew from your body and grabbed tightly onto your thighs, dragging you toward him as he moved to stand at the edge of the bed. He pulled your legs to either side of his shoulders, desperate to breach as much of you as he could– and he was instantly gratified when his cockhead prodded against the silky, firm makings of your cervix. A groan of your name pulled from his throat as he sheathed himself against it.
Every pound of his hips to yours, every ram against your insides, made you cry out. He looked at the angelic expression of your pleasure before he leaned forward and pressed his hand over your mouth. As desperate as he was for you, he was even more so to not wake Henry– he wanted this moment to last forever, uninterrupted by anyone or anything.
With your noises muffled by his strong palm his movements grew fervid, his teeth gritting together to stifle his own sounds of pleasure. Your walls stroked him effortlessly, it drove him wild– borderline animalistic.
Your hands wrapped and gripped around his wrist as he looked over you, your brows knit together, your eyes pinched tightly shut as he fucked into you, each harsh thrust making your tits bounce as skin slapped against skin.
It was filthy, you were such an innocent and delicate thing, yet you let him fill you up with his cock like a whore.
That familiar clench he felt around his fingers now overwhelmed his length. His hand clutched tighter over your mouth as your whimpers grew incessant. You were unraveling right around him.
“Gonna-cum-on-my-cock-like-a-good-girl?” he emphasized his words with thrusts of his hips making you cry out against his palm. Your walls continued to clench, fluttering around him as he fucked into you.
Hitting again and again against the firm, slick surface of your cervix, the noises he worked so hard on muffling– he was nearing bliss himself. You nodded against his hand, muttering stuttered pleas against the skin of his palm.
“Then cum, sweet girl.” His hips slammed against yours again and as if he’d said the magic-fucking-word, your cunt fluttered causing his tip to twitch as your walls stroked him, your second release unraveling.
His hand dug harsher against your mouth as he watched you reach your peak– your eyes rolled before your lashes fluttered, pinching tightly shut.
You cried out curses against his hand as you came on his dick.
He groaned as you milked his cock. White hot euphoria blurred his eyes as he leaned his head back, hips stuttering only for a moment before he shot ropes of cum deep inside your cunt.
You whimpered against his palm, your walls fluttering around him as he twitched, still thrusting into you but at a much slower fervency now. He opened his eyes and huffed harshly, looking down into your fucked out expression as he withdrew his hand.
He shoved your legs off his shoulders, closing in the distance between yours and his body as he crashed his lips against yours hungrily, clashing teeth against lips in the haste.
You moaned into his mouth and he happily swallowed them down, panting into your own, still dragging his hips through the end of his orgasm.
You were fucking perfect. He couldn’t say it enough, you were a gift from the heavens above; an angel. He often fantasized about the idea of fucking you– but he found his fantasies were not nearly as incredible as the genuine thing.
Fucks sake– he would happily stay buried in your cunt til the end of time. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you to whine in the loss of contact as he stood up to his full height and took himself in his hand, withdrawing from you.
As he unsheathed himself he watched as the combination of your releases slid from your hole… he couldn’t have that. He needed it to stay deep inside of you. Needed a part of him to remain in your cunt as a reminder of what he did to you, how he soiled your sweet air of innocence.
He dragged his tip along your folds, gathering up as much of it as he could before he gently shoved his cock back inside of you, making you whimper pathetically in overstimulation. He buried himself up inside you, bucking his hips gently as you tightened around him, making him hiss between his teeth.
You whimpered his name and he huffed softly, “Okay, sweet girl.” he cooed, curling over you again, and writhed a hand through your hair consolingly as he unsheathed from your sweet cunt.
Fucked out, skin tainted stickily with sweat, eyes heavy and tired… you were still nothing less than perfect to him– perhaps in this state even more so.
He was filled to the brim with desire for you, but he couldn’t stop himself from pressing a soft and gentle kiss to your lips. One of love rather than lust. He adored the way you hummed against his lips. His hands trailed gently up and down your sides.
He pulled away from your lips, looking down over your face as he gently caressed your cheek with the back of his knuckles. Perfect, he told himself again.
He helped you redress, as you were relentlessly unsteady on your own legs, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. He savored the way your fingers clutched his shoulders for stabilization as he helped you step into your underwear. He relished the way your head lolled softly against his chest as he pulled on your bra, clasping it in the back.
It was admittedly a walk of shame back to the living room for your shirt, but he’d do it a million times over just for you, for the way you depended on him for his assistance.
The two of you stood for a moment, neither one of you knowing exactly what to say as your eyes roamed each other. You were both, however, in a silent agreement that nobody could ever know what had happened… though Charlie selfishly hoped it would happen again.
“Let me help you.” he murmured, rushing to help you gather your bag, assisting you to pull it over your shoulder before you spun to look at him again.
He couldn’t help but smile as the fucked out expression still tainted your features. “Well… thank you for the book.” you mumbled softly.
After all that, he’d admittedly forgotten all about the book. His lips parted momentarily before they reconnected into a smile, and he softly shook his head. “I know it’s in good hands.”
He watched as your lips curled up into a gentle and innocent smile. “You’ll call me next time you need a sitter, right?” He noted your eyes nervously looking between his own, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing you closer, “You don’t think I’m getting rid of you any time soon, do you? Quite the opposite actually, sweet girl.”
You hummed softly as he placed a kiss on your forehead, making his heart beat a little harder in his chest.
He was rather saddened to watch you pull away from him, making your way to the front door– he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and carry you to his bed to rest your tired body, but he knew he couldn’t do that.
So, he swallowed down his disappointment and unlocked the door for you, pulling it open.
You began to walk out, and he let himself indulge in the gentle sway of your hips as you walked past him, before you stopped, one hand on the frame of the door as you turned to face him.
He watched as your adorable wide eyes stared back into his. “Good night, Charlie.”
He beamed, “Good night,” he purred your name. You lingered a moment longer, and he resisted the urge to raise a questioning brow, until your hand met his chest and your lips met his for one last kiss– you pulled away after a moment, and with an air of excitement you quickly turned on your heel and made your way out the door.
He watched you glance back at him with that girlishly playful smile and he couldn’t help but chuckle. When you were out of sight he shut the door behind you, letting himself collapse against it as he writhed a hand through his hair, selfishly recalling tonight’s memories which were still, and would remain fresh in his mind for quite a while… surely until he saw you again, which he quickly made mental note to need you to watch Henry again soon.
You were a dangerous game, but Charlie wanted nothing more than to play.