Warning: The following chapter is the main reason why this story is marked as M-rated, guys! It's pretty explicit, so please refrain from reading if you're uncomfortable with such matters: I promise you can skip it and still have perfect continuity.

TWENTY-THREE

As soon as he perceived the taste of her tongue, Charlie felt as if his world was slowly putting its pieces back together. He couldn't fathom how a pair of lips could mean home. But that was what he had always experienced when their mouths were clinging, and that time the sensation was even amplified. When he kissed her back, tucking his hands in her hair, basking in her perfume, her skin, her warmth, he pulled her towards himself until there was no more room between them, and yet it wasn't enough. Their kisses became more intense, as they bit their chins and lips and necks in a heated blend of their breaths. October slid her hands under the fabric, touching his skin for the first time, and he jolted. Could such a simple gesture be so shocking? He irrationally wished her fingers could seep in his flesh. One by one, she undid the buttons of his shirt, making the sleeves slide on his shoulders and arms. She grabbed the edge of his undershirt and took it off, while Charlie raised his arms to help her. She marveled at him, then closed her eyes leaning in and inhaled his scent in a primordial fashion. She nuzzled his chest, then dropped impalpable kisses on it. Charlie's eyelids were down, too, as his heavy breaths were the only sound surrounding them. When she bit his neck, he squeezed her arms and gently pushed her away to get rid of her clothes as well. He swallowed as the glory of her bosoms, the delicate curve of her belly, the whiteness of her legs appeared before his stare. A smile graced her lips and he read the clear invitation into it, so he made their mouths collide for a new deep kiss, while she led one of his hands onto her breast. More confident than the last time, he caressed it with no hesitation, and a sigh escaped from her throat. He drank that sigh and, when she fell backward, he followed her propping up on his hands not to weigh on her. He bored into her moonlit eyes, wondering if she had ever been so beautiful, and went on losing himself in her mouth. Feeling his heartbeat increase, he dared to move downwards, tasting her neck, nibbling her shoulder and landing on a nipple, which he trapped between his lips. She moaned, running her fingers through his hair, then pulled his head back to hers, and slid her hands down his torso and abdomen until the obstacle of his trousers. She unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling them down with the help of her toes. He chuckled and shifted to make it easier for her, then resumed the worship of her mouth and chest, dropping minuscule kisses on every inch of her lips, from corner to corner, then on both of her breasts. Unbelievably, every brush was different from the previous one. Every bit of her skin just relished by his lips kept on tingling, as if in anticipation of the next contact. She reached out to take their underwear off, and Charlie winced when the fabric rubbed against his injured skin.

"Oh… I'm sorry, I'm so sor…" she began in alarm, but he managed to show his lopsided smile.

"It's okay" he reassured her, then slowly lowered his body.

Both of them took a sharp intake of breath when their bare flesh came into full contact. They locked eyes, panting, their crazy pulses hammering against each other. Charlie took one of her hands in his, kissed all of her pads and intertwined their fingers together, resting his forehead on hers, his eyes closed. He had stopped moving, and she realized he was imperceptibly shaking again, just like when they were in his room and he had just touched her bust for the first time. Then the truth struck her, and what she had only supposed – the main reason why she held back, at the time – became a certainty. A wave of sweetness flooded her lungs. She stroked his hair, trying to reassure him.

"Is everything okay?"

He swallowed hard. It was pointless to lie and impossible to avoid: she would find out what even his friends ignored. She would know for sure he was a child.

"It's just I've never… I don't… It's my…"

"I know" she whispered.

Charlie lifted his gaze and met hers. It wasn't judgmental. It was just immeasurably open, and bright, and pure. He felt a lump in his throat, aware that she had never ceased caressing him, that she was waiting for him, giving him all the time he needed.

"Do you want to stop?" she asked. He shook his head.

"I don't want to disappoint you."

"You can't."

He stared at her for a long moment before lowering his head to peck her lips. He gently stroked her thigh, which she lifted to brush his side. The kiss became deeper as she held him tight in her arms. She felt his heartbeat go wild just like hers. But she couldn't focus on herself at that moment. It was all for him. She slid a hand between their bodies to guide him and watched in awe as he threw his head backward, his eyes closed, standing still for a moment crystallized in time, savoring the warm cage of her flesh on his. She brushed her thumb on his lower lip, and he bit it softly. They both moaned as he began to swing into her, a slow pace which gradually became more intense, and eager, and heated, following the wave of their passion. She didn't realize she had been scratching his back. He didn't realize he had been sinking his teeth in her shoulder. They didn't even realize they were groaning in each other's mouth. There was only the pure bliss of the mounting pleasure in their minds, which reached the peak when he poured himself into her with a fierce and hoarse growl. She stared at him bewitched by his somehow feral features. It took him a while to come back to his senses, but when he did and he looked into her eyes, he had such an adoring gaze she felt overwhelmed.

He slowly lowered his head until he rested it on her chest, cherishing her cuddles, a hand in her hair, the other on one of her breasts. She lazily drew random curlicues on his back, her eyes closed, basking in that lovely moment, listening to the lullaby of his breaths.

"Are you okay?" she asked some minutes later.

"No" was his straight answer.

She frowned as he lifted his head to meet her questioning gaze.

"What about you? I mean, I have just… But you…" he murmured in embarrassment. She understood what he meant and smiled. It was always kind of cute when he cast his self-confidence off.

"It doesn't matter. It's been wonderful, and the important thing is you enjoyed it."

"It does" he insisted. "Tell me what I can do. Help me give you what you gave me."

She swallowed in a perfectly balanced mixture of poignancy and excitement. She caressed his hair once more, looking into his eyes, reluctant to ruin the moment with words. So she just kissed him ever so slowly, then stroked his lips with her whole tongue, brought his hand to her mouth and calmly sucked his fingers, keeping their eye contact. She felt his immediate reaction between her legs, but he didn't act accordingly. On the contrary, he began to leave a hot and wet trail along her neck and chest and stomach, kissing his way to her thighs. She closed her eyes and guided him with her hands in his hair.

When Charlie reached his goal, he swallowed and tried hard not to lose control. She was different even in that. Her skin was immaculate just as in any other part of her body. He had never contemplated such a tempting view. Despite his lack of experience, his instinct urged him to savor that view, and he cautiously complied. As if his tongue was a soft paintbrush, he painstakingly slid it from bottom to top, coating the canvas of her flesh with the natural color she was unintentionally offering. A low sound blossomed in her throat. Her taste was bitter and sweet at the same time, and made his head spin in dizziness. He suddenly craved more, and dipped deeper. She flinched, shifting her legs. So she liked it, he thought. Gotta do more, gotta be more. He carefully replaced his tongue with his fingers, taking his time, and another growl met his ears. He smiled, feeling potent, and tried to combine the two gestures. Keeping on drawing her desire, he stippled on the upper part and she jolted, moaning and grasping his hair. He accidentally moved his phalanx into her, as if in a beckoning sign, and her reaction was spectacular. He figured out how to do and what she liked most, and tried to keep the same motions, just increasing the pace following the pattern of her breaths and unconscious twitches.

October was astonished. He was learning how to adjust his movements so quickly, not following his own whims but listening to her body. His hair tickling her inner thighs, the sound of his kisses, the slowness he was using untiringly, all of that sent her over the moon in no time. Soon, she couldn't help but pant, as her moans increased in volume and intensity. A thin layer of sweat covered her chest and the back of her knees, her heart pounded crazily against her rib cage, a wave of liquid hotness mounted in her belly and, all of a sudden, her brain collapsed on itself exploding into a blissful and starry nothingness. She screamed while jerking violently and Charlie looked at her, mesmerized, thinking that was the most wonderful sight he had ever seen in his whole life.

He let her regain her composure before speaking.

"Well, now you can ask me again if I'm…"

But he couldn't finish his sentence. October opened her eyes wide and pointed him, looking every bit like an animal. She sprang upright and pulled him towards her, kissing him voraciously. She straddled him and let him slide into her again with no effort. Charlie groaned in shock, but held her tight without thinking twice, only a tiny part of his brain realizing that he was feeling no pain at the moment.

That time was more natural and unbridled. They locked eyes while swinging in sync, intertwining their fingers and whispering meaningless words on each other's lips while their minds short-circuited simultaneously.

Some minutes later, a moonbeam enfolded the two figures held tight in a warm embrace, their eyes closed, their breaths heavy, their hearts wishing for that exact moment to overlap any past and any future, and mutate into an eternal present.

A/N: You know it's pure fiction when it's the first time he… Er… Paints… And he indeed is a god :DDD But I think Charlie is kind of a natural when it comes to such things :p

(Seriousness time: it's also pure fiction because there's a condom missing for the sequence's sake. It doesn't mean it's okay. Use it! ;p)

To Smiro. Keep on playing wherever you are.