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“I don’t think he was just talking about your vision and magic. He meant your feelings, too. It hasn’t been a week since we returned, and that process is still ongoing. I’m ecstatic you can see now, Daria—see the world as I see it and look at the things I enjoy looking at with your own eyes. With your magic, you are allowed to feel how you feel. Embrace it. Be patient with it. At the end, whatever the results, I know you will be okay.”
She peered at his face as if memorizing it. Then she took in his words, a slow nod finally forming. She smiled, small and unsure, before it bloomed into something that was his equivalent of magical. It floored him, this woman, and how he had been unseeing for so long. If anything, Charlie was the blind one.
“Charlie?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re my best friend,” she mused as if still in disbelief. Amusement bubbled.
“I know. I’m the luckiest bastard, aren’t I?”
“And vice versa.”
To be this open with her after everything they had confessed to each other struck at his soul, and he forgot all about keeping his distance as he kissed her. She responded promptly, lips parting with so much trust, letting him in while she showed him just how much she liked it. They stayed like that, breathing each other’s erratic breath, then angling their lips to deepen the connection until slow and easy turned hot and heavy. The full makeout session went on and on until his tongue was tangling with hers.
When they came up for air, he felt a possessive streak at how swollen her lips had gotten and how much he wanted to bite them. She did the biting instead, nipping his jaw and wriggling until she was no longer in her seat. The feel of her straddling his lap had his ruminations short-circuiting.
“I’m hungry,” she repeated, then attacked his mouth once more.
“Well, shit. Let me…Daria.” He kissed her like a man starved, unable to say more as she sucked on his lower lip before resuming the play of her tongue. When she stroked it, her hips moved, too, grinding until she was maddeningly close to where he ached the most. Then she adjusted her position and matched her tongue with the strokes below.
How he resisted was beyond him, but he had to clutch on her skirt for the longest time to anchor himself. Even then, his hands wandered a bit, feathering against the smooth skin of her thighs. Then they were on her ass and squeezing, her flimsy excuse for underwear ready to rip in his shaking hands.
“Daria, I’m supposed to take you out. Take it slow….”
“Fuck me, Charlie. Please. I need it. I need you.”
So much for self-control. But there was no defense against the desperate pleading from her throat, coming from a place that rushed because she wanted this. Daria wanted him as much as he wanted her—was as desperate as he was—and there was no way in hell he would leave her hanging.
He cursed under his breath when she ground again to make her point. Then he demanded more kisses, keeping her mouth busy even while their hands did the rest: removing shirts and tops, unbuckling belts, and tossing them in the backseat. He rolled his tongue around her nipple and used his fingers down her core, but she moved them out of the way and took out his cock instead. The fast, jerking motion of her fist wrapped around him had a larger series of swear words spilling out.
“Fuck. Shit. Damn it, Daria.”
“You sound so hot when you say that. When you just lose control and stop censoring your words.”
“I’m about to lose control any second now, sweetheart.”
“Please do. Lose control with me, Charlie. Let go.”
Her thumb rested on the tip of his shaft, rubbing his precum over it. Her words did him in, and he could only lift her body and adjust their position until he was poised at her entrance.
“Are you sure?” he rasped, even while it felt impossible to back off now.
In response, she gripped his hand in hers, loosening his hold so she could lower her body on him. While the rest had been frenzied, this one was slow—a break of sorts, except it didn’t feel like one with how her snug channel opened up to accommodate his size and take him in. By the time he was to the hilt of her, he couldn’t take in air, trapped in so much heat that it stupefied.
“Does it hurt?”
“It’s just…odd,” she said, as out of air as he was. “Like I’m so full, and there’s no space left. Charlie?”
“What?”
“You’re huge.”
He chuckled at that, then stifled a groan when her hips wriggled. He took them and locked them into non-movement, his eyes close to rolling at the back of his head.
“Wait. Please.” Another choked breath, then, “I’m going to blow this if we both move now. I want to last for you.”
She nodded in understanding. He kissed her once more to distract her, then was distracted by the more potent taste of her as her arousal heightened. When he was steady enough, he urged her to move and became witness to her shyness peeling away with each up and down movement, her boldness shining through as she took what she wanted. He helped her out, shifting in his seat when she became restless, then pushing up when he found an angle that intensified her moans.
