Pitbabe S2, Chapter 26 pg 2

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 26 pg 2

   “I’ve always been talkative, you know.”

   Fair point.

   It’s not like he just started being chatty today.

   “Come on, do whatever you like. I’ll go along with it.”

   By all rights, I should be the one saying embarrassing things, and he should be the one getting shy and scolding me. But the roles often switch in bed. Charlie gets bolder, shameless, like a completely different person when he’s caught up in the moment. I’ve tried to muster the courage to outdo him several times, but the results are usually less than impressive.

   In the end, I decided not to argue and embarrass myself further. I pursed my lips a bit, just enough to show I wasn’t thrilled, but then slowly turned to lie on my side, bending my knees slightly out of habit.

   Charlie probably wanted to tease me to death, but he held back, not wanting to start a fight when we could be loving each other instead. He smiled like he found me utterly adorable, then slowly moved closer. One arm slipped under my knees, which were stacked together, and he positioned himself to bring things back to where they were—and where they should be. I didn’t want to admit out loud that this was my favorite position, because Charlie made me too shy to own up to it. But I couldn’t deny that being held like this made me feel really good.

   Charlie said this position made it look like he was carrying me like a princess. I nearly wanted to headbutt the earth when I heard that, because even the name of the position was so embarrassing I wanted to rip my ears off. In real life, Charlie has never carried me like that, not once (and even if he wanted to, I wouldn’t let him). I want to be cute in his eyes, sure, but not that kind of cute, so far removed from who I am.

   “Ah…”

   It’s so hard not to make a sound when Charlie goes at it like this, unrestrained. He seemed to hold back his strength at times, but it didn’t look like something he could easily control. In the months we were apart, Charlie probably didn’t let loose like he used to. His daily life, revolving padres around the lab and studying, must have been so busy he didn’t even think about this stuff. Plus, he once admitted himself that he’s practically “dead” in that department. But honestly, I can’t picture him like that at all, because the Charlie with me is nowhere near “dead.” If I had to pick a word for him, I’d say “wild” or maybe “two-faced” (in a good way) fits better.

   “…Ah,” I love that Charlie isn’t silent as a mouse when we’re together like this. He expresses his emotions openly—the more his desire peaks, the clearer his reactions. He’ll hiss, his eyes devouring me, gleaming like a roaring blaze, yet he tries so hard not to let that fire consume me. “Good… darling.”

   He rarely calls me that, and it tickles my ears, but I like it. It’s different from when he calls me “baby.” That’s cute too, but it makes me feel like a kid. This word, though, makes me feel like we’re a married couple, still burning with passion after years together, enough to make newlyweds jealous.

   “Ah!”

   I yelp in surprise as his hand suddenly smacks my backside hard. Charlie grips my waist firmly, while his other hand swings down three or four more times, as if his intensity has nowhere else to go. The sting from his large hand is no joke, but that pain doesn’t dampen the pleasure of this moment at all.

   If anything, it makes it soar.

   “Darling…”

   Because what he gives me is overwhelming. I call him back with the same word, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep, consuming kiss. Our tongues intertwine, almost becoming one, just like our bodies, pressed so close they’re nearly fused. My heart, I think, fully belonged to him again from the first kiss of the day. I’ve never been able to resist Charlie, and now I don’t even know why I’d bother trying.

   I want to be his.

   I want us to belong to each other… like we used to.

   “Does it hurt?” Charlie whispers in my ear.

   He’s still as kind as ever.

   “It hurts,” I reply, my voice laced with heavy breaths. Even as I speak, Charlie doesn’t pause to let me catch my breath. He’s relentless, like a machine. No, a machine stops when you pull the plug, but with Charlie, I don’t even know where his plug is. “Who wouldn’t hurt after getting spanked?”

   “Is it enough?”

   “Do you want it to be enough?”

   “I don’t.”

   Not only is he tireless, but he’s also the best kind of fuel for me. It’s not just his arousing words but his expression, his movements, and his chiseled, muscular body. He’s bigger than when we first met—maybe because he was still young then, his growth is so noticeable. Broader shoulders, a thicker chest, and my favorite part: his perfectly sculpted abs, not too much or too little. Running my tongue along those ridges feels like licking a human-sized chocolate bar. It might not have been my childhood dream, but as an adult? It’s definitely near the top of the list.

   I push him down onto his back, switching to take the top position. Charlie’s a bit startled but flashes a sweet, pleased smile. Of course, he loves it when I lose control, just as much as I love it when he tries to rein me in. His rhythm and movements are incredible, but I think it’d be a bit shameful if this round ended with only his effort, like the last one.

   I should get to show off my skills too.

   “Beautiful,” Charlie doesn’t resist. He props himself up on his elbows, watching me move on top, his hand gently cupping my cheek in admiration. “My talented one.”

   Both in looks and skill,

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