Pitbabe S2, Chapter 18 pg6

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 18 pg6

   “I’ve done more than that,” the young man challenged boldly. Come to think of it, it’s been a while since Charlie last showed any fear of me. Back when we first met, just a stern tone from me would make him shrink, but now? I could scold him to death, and he wouldn’t flinch—might even hit back twice as hard. He’s getting bolder by the second. “This? Child’s play.”

   “Really?” I pressed my palm against his growing excitement, which only intensified, while its owner maintained his usual calm expression. “More than this? Like what?”

   “Wanna find out?”

   I thought actions would be a better answer to that question.

   I leaned my cheek against his thigh, my hand slowly slipping into the waistband of my talented ex’s pajama pants. The elastic band made it easy to venture inside. After passing a small barrier, I reached the final destination. The warmth filled nearly my entire hand, yet Charlie impressively kept his expression under control. The only reaction I could catch was the slightly strained way he swallowed.

   No conversation passed between us, only Charlie’s breathing, louder and less steady than usual. He looked down at me the whole time, his warm hand moving from my head to my shoulder, stroking slowly in a rhythm that matched my hand’s movements inside his pants. I felt like a kid lying down, playing with a toy in the most comfortable position, while Charlie seemed less at ease. His brows furrowed several times, his lips pursed intermittently, as if holding back something. But I was certain he didn’t mind what was happening. Or, to be clear, I think he loved it.

   Charlie’s breathing grows louder. I think it’s gotten so heavy it sounds more like gasping than breathing, maybe because I’ve been teasing him too much. The tension spills out freely beyond the sheets, his hand replaced by the warmth of his mouth. I take in his heat, while he battles with mine in return. Charlie slumps back against the headboard, exhausted, mouth open, grasping for air more than ever, his heartbeat pounding faster and faster, matching my relentless rhythm with no pause, only intensifying.

   “Babe…” Charlie calls my name in a hoarse voice, his tone like a breeze that sends shivers down my spine, making my body react with goosebumps all over. When he places his hand on my head, gripping my hair tightly, the slight tug on my scalp sends a terrifying jolt through my stomach. “Slow… slow down.”

   My brain must be working backward. Hearing Charlie beg me to slow down only makes me move faster. And because I ignore his plea, he retaliates by gripping my hair even harder. It’s more like yanking now, and it hurts, but I’m not mad at him at all. In moments like this, I love that Charlie doesn’t handle me too gently. I love that he lets his instincts take over, moving with his heart more than his head. The way Charlie knows when to treat me with respect and when to be raw and ruthless is perfect. I’m sure he’s been in bed with me long enough to know the right rhythm for it.

   “Mmm…” A deep groan rumbles in his throat. Charlie seems to have run out of patience. He yanks my head back until I’m forced to look up, and I finally let him go from my mouth. The young guy, panting heavily, stares at me with a mix of love and hate. He’s always like this when I tease him at times like this. “What did I say? Didn’t you hear?”

   “Say what?” I flash a sweet smile, completely unfazed, even though a guy nearly ten years younger is yanking my hair without respect. “Didn’t hear anything.”

   “You’re all mouth, huh? Ears not working either?”

   “Why so grumpy?” His irritation doubles my amusement. I crawl up and rest my cheek against his chest, nuzzling like a cat begging for food, knowing full well this behavior will annoy the grumpy Charlie more than endear him. But that’s my main goal anyway. “Don’t like it?”

   “It’s not that I don’t like it, but you’re rushing too much.”

   “Why?” I put on a (self-proclaimed) innocent face. “Scared you’ll burn out after one round?”

   “I think you knows best about that.”

   Charlie says it with a straight face, and this expression of his is my absolute favorite. So, I plant a big kiss on his cheek to let out the fluttery feelings in my heart before getting up from the bed.

   “Gonna hit the bathroom real quick.”

   “See, now you’re leaving people hanging,” Charlie grumbles, lips pursed, but he doesn’t throw a bigger fit than that. He knows I need to prep if he wants something more. No, scratch that—I want it too. What we did just now was just a warm-up game. That kind of thing doesn’t satisfy a greedy guy like me.

   “Yeah… just a sec.”

   “Don’t take a shower.”

   “Impatient much?”

   “Yeah, impatient. Hurry up. I can’t meditate for long.”

   The word “cute” pops into my head countless times. If I told anyone about this, no one would understand why I love it when Charlie glares at me and speaks curtly. They don’t get what it’s like to live with a sweet guy like Charlie. The ultimate move of people like him is when they tuck away their sweetness and let out a bit of roughness. I swear, my heart races every time Charlie acts like this, and I think he knows it, too.

   “Don’t start playing by yourself just yet.”

   “If you take too long, I’m not making any promises.”

   That’s why he’s being so annoyingly perfect right now, and I love it.

   

   CHARLIE:

   Babe said he’d just pop into the bathroom for a quick second, but his “quick second” is about to drive me insane. At first, I could still sit on the bed, staring at the door, the lightbulb, the ceiling, whatever. But after a while, I got restless. I wandered out of the bedroom, opened the fridge for some water, hoping it’d cool the fire inside me, but it didn’t help much. So, I ended up pacing back and forth in the bedroom. Babe still wasn’t coming out. In the end, I fully transformed into an impatient puppy, standing with my head against the bathroom door, listening to the sound of the sink faucet gushing like a waterfall.

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