Chapter 105: Can I eat your most sensitive spot?
Charles’ eyes widened as a deep blush spread across his cheeks. "You’re unbelievable," he muttered, averting his gaze.
Augustine chuckled, stepping closer. "What? I’m just being honest," he purred, his voice dripping with amusement.
"You don’t have to behave like a pervert while being honest." Charles sneered.
He took a step back from Augustine and properly observed his features.
Augustine stood before him, draped in a milk-colored long sleeve that clung to his frame, paired with fitted brown trousers and a flowing kimono jacket that only added to his effortless allure.
His tousled brown hair, wild and unkempt, framed his tired yet undeniably handsome face.
Dark circles shadowed Augustine’s piercing eyes, a testament to sleepless nights and restless thoughts—perhaps of Charles.
Even in Augustine’s exhaustion, there was something intoxicatingly rugged about him, something that made Charles’ breath hitch.
"You’ve lost some weight," Charles remarked, his voice laced with concern as his eyes roamed over Augustine’s frame.
It was undeniable—Augustine looked leaner.
Augustine scoffed, running his tongue slowly over his lips before rolling his eyes. "And you haven’t?" he shot back, arching a brow. "Tell me, were you skipping meals while I was away?"
"Yo... can’t you see I’m about to have my dinner? I don’t skip meals, okay?" Charles retorted, his tone sharp with defense.
Not giving Augustine a chance to respond, he turned on his heel and grabbed a plate, scooping a generous portion of rice onto it.
Without missing a beat, Charles cracked a few eggs into a bowl, whisking them swiftly before pouring the mixture into a hot pan.
The sizzle filled the kitchen, but even as he cooked, he could feel Augustine’s eyes burning into his back.
Augustine just stood still as he watched Charles, and minutes later, Charles placed a plate of rice and eggs above the kitchen island.
Now they were two plates of rice.
"You need to eat. Come here." Charles tapped the empty dining chair, motioning for Augustine to sit.
Augustine sighed, closing the distance between them. "Charles, it’s strange... I’m finally here, and you’re acting like you didn’t miss me." Augustine stated, his voice carried a hint of hurt, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. "I don’t think I can eat right now. I’m tired... I just need to freshen up."
After speaking, he pressed a lingering kiss to the top of Charles’s head before pulling away ever so slowly. "Good night, Pookie. Let’s have a nice chat tomorrow," he purred, his voice low and velvety.
With that, Augustine turned and made his way toward the stairs.
"So you won’t eat at least eat anything?"
"Nope. Maybe tomorrow, I am tired right now."
Augustine’s tone was indifferent as Charles watched him climb the stairs.
Charles scoffed and shifted his gaze to his meal, determined to finish both portions he had served.
Thirty-one minutes later, he let out a deep yawn, rubbing his stomach in satisfaction.
He had eaten to his fill, and now exhaustion was beginning to creep in.
Charles washed the dishes and made his way to the bedroom, only to find Augustine fast asleep on the bed, clad in a white bathrobe.
A frown crept onto Charles’s face.
’Did something happen to him?’ he wondered. ’And why did he suddenly show up like this when, just hours ago, he claimed he was handling business meetings?’
Tons of questions linger within Charles but he is most concerned about Augustine’s health. The pale skin of Augustine was something to be concerned about.
Nevertheless, Charles sluggishly made his way toward the bathroom where he took his bath, and after that he wore a bathrobe before joining Augustine on the bed.
"Hey," Charles purred softly, calling out to Augustine, but the only response he got was silence.
’It seems he’s already fast asleep.’
Charles lips curled into a small smile as he glance at Augustine, watching the slow rise and fall of Augustine’s chest. "This is a first," Charles murmured. "You never sleep before me."
It was always the other way around—Augustine would stay up, watching over Charles, teasing him, or simply holding him close.
But now, seeing Augustine like this, wrapped in a bathrobe, his usually sharp features softened by exhaustion, Charles felt something stir inside him.
He sighed, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from Augustine’s face.
’Just what happened out there, Augustine?’
Charles breathed out, shifting his gaze to the ceiling as he allowed a sigh to roll out of his mouth.
"If I’m being honest... I do miss you—a lot," Charles admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitated, glancing at Augustine’s sleeping form before continuing. "I just... I’m scared of how to say it. I hate that I even missed you this much, but at the same time... I’m glad you’re back home to me." Charles stated and his words were directed to no one in particular because he had assumed Augustine was already fast asleep.
Charles turned onto his side, his gaze settling on Augustine’s back, which was facing him.
"Earlier, when I asked if you wouldn’t at least eat... I expected you to tease me and say you wanted to eat me instead," he mumbled with a soft chuckle.
His amusement faded into something more vulnerable as he sighed. "I always act like I hate it when you tease me, but if I’m being honest... I like it sometimes. And when you’re too tired or worn out to mess with me like you usually do... I don’t know, it just feels awkward. I get confused, wondering how to lift your mood."
Charles voice trailed off into the quiet of the room, his fingers idly gripping the sheets.
He didn’t expect a response—he had already convinced himself that Augustine was fast asleep.
Charles took a deep breath before speaking again. "I hate the way my emotions become conflicted whenever you’re around..."
"Shush, Pookie," Augustine suddenly murmured, his voice low and drowsy as he cut Charles off from completing his sentence.
Charles’s eyes widened in surprise. He had been certain Augustine was asleep.
"You... you’re awake?" he stammered, his heart skipping a beat.
Augustine scoffed, turning to face Charles, his eyes dark and teasing. "Can I eat you?" he murmured, voice dripping with seduction. "And I don’t mean the food you made. I’m talking about every inch of you—your lips, your dick, your nipples, your ass... your skin... and even your most sensitive spots."