Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: florahart
From: A Wicked Watcher: lunalovepotter

Title: You Belong To Me
Characters/Pairings: Charlie/Asteria
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: Infidelity (Asteria); rough sex
Other Warnings/Content: Oral sex
Word Count: 3,866
Summary/Description: For that one night she was his, and his alone.
Author's Notes:



The lighting was dim, and it was hard to make out anyone's faces. This was a bar where people went to hide, and escape the various trials of their daily lives. Yet Charlie could tell right away that this bird was new. She stood out as though surrounded by a halo of light. She sat alone at a table in the corner, trying to remain inconspicuous but failing miserably, at least in his eyes; she was like a diamond in a pile of coal. She was too refined for a place like this. It was more than just the form-fitting low-cut blouse, obviously made of expensive silk, and the sparkling pendant around her neck. Her honey blond hair framed her face in loose curls that rested gently on her shoulders. Long, slender fingers with well-manicured nails wrapped around the pint of beer. One finger was saddled with an impressive emerald ring that might have been a wedding ring, except for the fact it was on her right hand. She was working at her full lower lip, keeping her head down as she tried surreptitiously to survey her surroundings. Charlie very much wanted to kiss that lower lip; he felt it so strongly it was like a pulse of desire through his torso. His cock throbbed in his jeans. No, she certainly didn't belong there. He imagined she'd come there on impulse, and judging by the look on her face, she was beginning to rethink it. He wasn't about to let that happen.

"Not what you expected, hey?" he said amicably, setting his mug down on the table. The young woman started. Her shoulders stiffened and her breasts reflexively thrust forward. Charlie just about soiled the inside of his boxers. He could make out the soft bump of her nipples in the fabric.

"Pardon?" Her voice was low and smooth, traveling along his spine like hot lava. She raised her head. Her eyes, now opened wide with apprehension, were an almost startling blue framed by thick golden brown lashes.

Charlie glanced around the room, making a sweeping gesture with his hand. "This place," he said. "It doesn't seem like your style, that's all. I'm sorry if I startled you."

"No, no it's all right." She recovered quickly, lifting one unsteady hand to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. A sparkling emerald earring was nestled in her soft earlobe. He wanted to take out that earring and suck on the soft flesh. Sweet Merlin, she was amazing. She gestured toward the empty stool around which he was hovering, obviously not sure whether to sit or not. "Please, sit. You're right, this isn't my usual hangout," she continued as he sat down. Charlie was astute enough to notice the sweeping up-down motion she made with her eyes, surveying his lean, muscular frame as he settled on the stool. A very faint smile of approval tickled her lips.

"So, what brings you here, then? If you want to tell me, that is," Charlie asked. His mouth was suddenly very dry, and he lifted his mug to take a long swallow. She didn't speak at first, and for a split second he worried that she'd slipped away. But when he put his mug down, she was looking him straight in the eye, leaning forward slightly with her hands clasped on the table. Instinctively his eyes dropped to her chest, and he could see the valley between her full breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra. Fuck.

"N-no, of course I don't mind telling you," she said. She cleared her throat. "I'm...well, at the risk of sounding forward...I'm here to have a bit of fun. Nothing too extreme, just want to shake off some of the cobwebs, you know?"

Charlie nodded once, as if he understood. She didn't look as though she'd seen a cobweb a day in her life. "So, how did you come across this little dive?" he asked. He fought to keep his eyes on her face. She had beautiful features, so it wasn't too hard, but her breasts were calling to him. He clenched his hands around the mug, hoping that it wouldn't shatter under the pressure of his large hands. He couldn't remember ever being so affected by a bird before, and he'd been with more than his share of them.

"I - I just sort of found it," she answered vaguely. "It--well, it's not really the kind of place my friends would know about." A deep flush rose in her high cheekbones, and she involuntarily brushed her left hand across her chest, fingering the emerald pendant at her throat. Up close, it looked like the letter A, surrounded by a ring of small diamonds. She swallowed, abruptly jerking the mug toward her mouth. A bit of beer sloshed over the edge. Charlie reached to steady her wrist, nearly knocking his own mug over in the process.

"All right, there?" he asked. He took his hand away although he didn't really want to stop touching her. Her skin felt like velvet.

She nodded once. "Yes, thanks, I'm fine." The tip of her tongue slipped out between her lips, drawing across the full lower lip. Charlie just about had a heart attack. "Do you come here a lot? You look like the sort...well, no, I'm sorry. It's just that you seem very at home here."

Charlie chuckled. "I stop by whenever I'm in town, yeah. My family...I love them, and I don't get to see them nearly enough, but sometimes...I need a break."

"I know what you mean," the witch replied. He caught a barely perceptible shadow cross her face as she said it.

"Are you escaping someone, or something, in particular?"

Her eyes dropped, and Charlie immediately regretted the question. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's okay. Yes, I am -- but I'd prefer to leave it at that." She took several long swallows of beer, as if to regain her courage. When she set down the mug it was nearly empty. She shifted in her seat, and pursed her lips. It was clearly her first time drinking beer. He expected she was more used to champagne and imported French wines.

"Sure, of course." Without thinking, Charlie put his hand on her wrist again. He felt her relax under his touch, and he smiled. He lightly stroked her wrist with his thumb. Her skin smelled like flowers. "Would it be all right to ask your name, at least?"

She stiffened. "Amanda," she said, after a pause that lasted several seconds. She didn't offer a surname. Charlie knew that Amanda wasn't her real name, but he didn't push her. "What's yours?" she asked.

Charlie couldn't lie, so he gave her his real name. "So..." he trailed off, trying to think of a segue into a new subject. He was usually so smooth and confident with the opposite sex; this was entirely new territory for him. He wasn't much for learning personal information about the witches he slept with, because it was only about sex. His encounters with witches were uncomplicated, just the way he liked it. He had his dragons, his mates, and his simple life in Romania with the occasional hot, meaningless sexual liason on the side. He didn't need the mess that came with a relationship. But the lack of knowledge about this particular witch was frustrating him. He wanted to know more than just her name and her body, and he couldn't figure out why. What was it about her that made him want to know more? Was it the simple fact that she didn't want him to know these things, or was it more than that? Of course, the fact that she was the most gorgeous witch he'd ever laid eyes on didn't hurt, nor did the fact that she obviously had money; or at least her family did. But something in her demeanor told him she didn't want the money or anything that came with it, and that alone was more attractive to him than he could explain. Charlie glanced at her right hand, burdened with the sparkling emerald, and his throat tightened.

Abruptly, the witch dismounted from the stool. "There are rooms upstairs," she said.

"What?" Charlie bumbled, startled out of his reverie. He slipped off the stool, nearly losing his footing. He managed to right himself by putting his hand on the edge of the table. His head was swimming, and he had hardly touched his beer. The walls seemed to be closing in, and he felt a vague sense of panic creeping up on him.

"Rooms. Upstairs." She squeezed his hand insistently with both of hers, and glanced toward the stairs. Her eyes were wide. "I've already booked one."

For the first time in his life, Charlie was torn. He knew that he should turn her down; he didn't have many rules when it came to sex, but one absolute was that he would not mess with married or about-to-be-married witches. The person she was hiding from was obviously a husband or a fiancé, a complication he did not need. He still wanted her more than he'd wanted anyone ever before. His body was on fire, his cock about ready to split his jeans. "Amanda -- " he started, but then she pulled him briskly toward the stairs, and he found himself following her. His eyes slipped down to her compact bum, and the hem of her short little skirt flapping against her lithe upper thighs as she walked. She wasn't wearing stockings. His mouth watered.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered thickly. When they reached the foot of the steps, he grabbed her forcefully from behind, hooked one arm under her legs, the other around her back, and carried her upstairs. She wrapped her arms around his neck, while nuzzling him with her mouth. He felt the pinch of her teeth on his flesh. A low growl emanated from his throat. "Which room is it?"

"Number three," she said in between bites and licks. "Second one on the -- "

"Left, I know."

She unlocked the door with the verbal password and they burst into the cramped room, falling onto the bed in a mad tangle of limbs. Charlie's hand moved between her thighs and was about to rip off the flimsy silk knickers underneath her skirt when she abruptly pulled away. "Wait, one second," she said breathlessly, her chest heaving. He at first thought perhaps she'd come to her senses and was going to let him off the hook by putting a stop to the whole encounter. But instead she disengaged from his arms, produced her wand from a previously unseen hiding place - which seemed impossible given the clingy nature of her attire - and to his surprise, she began to perform protective enchantments. Sprawled on the bed, he watched her make a small circle around the room with her back to him, waving the wand smoothly through the air while softly murmuring spells.

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked, when she turned around.

She set the wand down on the rickety desk by the window and pulled the blinds even though it was already dark outside. She stepped out of her heels, and then reached around her back to unzip her skirt. The flimsy garment slipped down her waist to the floor. He could see the damp stain in the crotch of her ivory silk knickers, and it sent his hands immediately to his waist to unfasten his belt and undo the zip of his jeans. He parted the front and his cock sprang forth, still tented by his boxers. Her eyes drifted in that general vicinity for a moment, and he saw her cheeks flush. Then she returned to the task of undressing, which she performed with a fluid elegance. The blouse fell away. She let it rest in the crooks of her elbows for a moment before she straightened her arms again, letting it spill onto the floor next to the previously discarded skirt. Charlie's lustful eyes locked on her magnificent milky white breasts threatening to spill out of a low-cut ivory silk brassiere lined with embroidered lace. Her nipples were so hard he was sure they would break through the fabric. He longed to take one in his mouth and suck on it like candy.

"I think that answers your question," she replied, with the most beautiful albeit fragile smile.

He sat up, and quickly rid himself of his flannel shirt and the dark t-shirt underneath. At the sight of his naked torso, the witch sucked in her breath. "Sweet Merlin," she whispered, licking her lips. "Is that a tattoo? It's fucking gorgeous."

Charlie just about spilled his load when he heard those last three words come out of her mouth. His groin tightened with the effort of holding himself back. At this rate, he wouldn't last more than two minutes. He twisted a little to his right to showcase the dragon that spread across his shoulder blades and halfway down his back. "Yeah. I work with dragons in Romania," he explained. His heart began to race as he felt her draw near, the heat of her body embracing him like a blanket. Her perfume wafted into his nostrils. He inhaled, filling his lungs with the scent of her, and then exhaled slowly as not to trigger his cock. "I love them," he added. "I always have, since I was a kid."

The touch of her finger on his shoulder was light, and yet he felt it like fire burning his skin. The mattress shifted as she climbed onto the bed and sat behind him, her knees anchored against his waist. "It must be incredible working with them," she went on, slowly tracing her fingertip along the outline of the tattoo. "So strong, and powerful, and they could take away your life at any second..." She whimpered, and her breasts brushed against his back. "I'd love to see one up close."

"I'd...I'd love to show you one." Fuck. He was going to lose it completely. He was overcome with desire, his need to be inside her eclipsing all rational thought. He loved that she appreciated his tattoo, but he had to take control. He had to have her now. Clenching his jaw, he moved quickly, flipping around so that he was on top of her. For an instant, she looked startled, and a little frightened, but then it evaporated into an expression of unabashed lust. Clearly, she had never been manhandled that way before, and it excited her. The thought of being the first one to break her only fueled his desire; he bent forward, the tip of his cock tickling her crotch as he reached around her back to unfasten the three hooks holding her bra. He felt the fabric give, and his heart began to race uncontrollably. The smell of her arousal intermingled with the perfume, and it was threatening to knock him out.

"You like that?" he said huskily. "You like it when I'm rough with you?"

She licked her lower lip, and nodded slowly. He smiled and bent to kiss her, sucking the full lower lip in between his teeth before he took her mouth completely. Her lips tasted like cherries. "Be rough with me, Charlie. Say dirty things and fuck me until I'm out of my bloody mind," she murmured into his mouth. "Make me forget myself."

Make me forget myself. For a split second her words gave him pause, and a ripple of sadness penetrated him. It was a foreign sensation; real emotion was not something he normally experienced in the throes of sexual passion. He drew back to look at her. He wanted to know what she was hiding, and what she was running from. If her husband or fiancéwas hurting her...he felt a rush of protectiveness that was completely inappropriate.

"Amanda," he said quietly. "What's going on?"

"Asteria," she said. "It's Asteria. But that's all I'm going to tell you."

His cock pulsed, and he clenched his groin. "It's a beautiful name," he said. She blushed, but didn't speak. Putting her hands against his chest, she pushed him back. She sat up, shrugging off the bra. Then she rose to her knees. Instinctively Charlie put his hands on her waist to hold her steady. She pushed down her knickers to reveal a well-kept triangle of honey blond hair glistening with arousal. She murmured something and the undergarments disappeared. The swarm of questions about her personal life went to the back of his mind as he put his hands under her breasts, sliding his thumbs across her nipples. He leaned close, fitting his lips in the space between her breasts. There were some things he just wasn't meant to know. There was the slight intake of her breath, the way her hair fell across her shoulder as she arched her head back, the curve of her breasts in his hands, and the scent of her pussy; that was what mattered now.

"Just do it. Split me wide open with that massive cock." To emphasize her point she made his boxers vanish and pointedly grabbed his erect cock with such vigor that it nearly knocked the wind out of him. Sharp, brutal pain tore through his groin, and he yelled until his throat burned.

"FUCK!" He threw her down onto the bed and forced her thighs open with his knee. With one hand, he pinioned her wrists while he held her waist with the other. He took one second to feast on her ample breasts, flat belly and curvaceous hips before he thrust into her. He heard her head smack the headboard and she cried out, but it wasn't pain in her voice; it was pure, unadulterated delight. She screamed his name over and over again, her pussy clenching around his shaft. He released her wrists, and her hands went right to his short, spiked hair. Her perfect nails dug into his scalp as she guided his head to her chest, where he latched onto her right breast. She locked her ankles under his bum, pushing her heels up into his flesh to coax him on. He'd never felt a pussy so tight before. He put his other hand underneath her, lifting her slightly off the bed to give him a deeper angle. He was sheathed inside her up to his balls, and he still couldn't get close enough to her.

His hips locked, and he took one hand away from her to brace against the headboard as he finally gave in to the rising pressure in his cock. The release was phenomenal, the best he'd ever had; his body convulsed with the sheer force of it. "Oh. Sweet. Holy. Hell," he panted. "That was brilliant."

He felt her body flutter around his wilting cock. Her breasts shook, and she emitted a long, soulful moan before she sank into the pillows. She looked up at him with a fully satisfied expression. "Yes, it was," she said. Her hair spilled out across the pillow like strands of silk, and when she turned the full force of her eyes on him, it took his breath away. He cupped her face in his hands, sweeping his thumbs across her soft cheeks. Then he kissed her deeply, moving his tongue possessively into her mouth. She lifted her head off the pillow, intertwining her tongue with his. Her breasts swept across his chest, and his cock swelled hopefully between his legs. He never wanted the night to end. He couldn't possibly let her leave.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She sat up, arching her back and rolling her hips forward so that her pussy slid along his burgeoning erection. He curled his hands around her bum, kneading it between his fingers. "Fuck, you are gorgeous," he said, following her rolling breasts with his eyes. "Stay with me."

"I can't." She scooted back down the length of his legs. She curled her hands around his cock, stroking it slowly. Then she shook her hair back over her shoulders and leaned forward, breasts dangling. He started to protest, but then her mouth encircled the tip of him and he lost his train of thought.

"Asteria..." he moaned. He clenched the sheets into his fists. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he watched as she held the base of his cock firmly in her left hand, massaging his balls as his length disappeared inside her mouth and then slowly re-emerged again. It was almost grotesque the way her mouth contorted to take in his girth but at the same time it was also incredibly erotic. It had to be uncomfortable for her, and yet she showed no sign of it. There was a level of skill in her movements that told him she'd done this many times before. She alternated sucking and licking him until he was ready to explode. Then she released him, sat up and lowered herself onto his cock, undulating her hips as she rode him. After he came, she guided his hand to her pussy and he worked her clit in small, quick circles while his juices dripped down her thighs. She massaged her breasts, rolling and pinching her nipples between her fingers while she arched her hips into the touch of his fingers.

"Fuck. Oh fuck, Charlie, yes..." Her hips jerked, and her pussy contracted. She screamed his name again as she came, and then she collapsed into his arms. Impulsively he lifted her head and kissed her long and hard, consumed with the desire to taste himself on her mouth. For this one night, she was his, and his alone. Then he summoned the old quilt from the end of the bed and draped it over their exhausted, sweaty bodies. She snuggled into him, delicately tracing her fingertips across his chest. For a long time, they were quiet, listening to the sounds on the street below.

"Is he hurting you?" Charlie asked finally.

Her body stiffened, and for a moment he thought she might bolt. He tightened his arms to keep her close, but it wasn't necessary. She sighed, and lifted her head. "No. He's not perfect, but he's decent. He has never laid a hand on me, or raised his voice. He takes care of me, and makes sure I have everything I could possibly want."

"Do you love him?"

She hesitated for a split second before she answered, "Yes, I do."

"Then I don't understand what you're doing here."

"It doesn't matter."

"Asteria -- "

She put her finger across his lips to silence him. "No," she said simply. Then she kissed him, and lowered her head to his chest.