charlie
I had spent the entire week believing I was unlovable, letting my mother’s cruel words fester. She hadn’t just called me a worthless loser for marrying some lowly former hockey player—that much was real. But in my head, the attack never stopped there. I could hear the things she would have said if she’d wanted to go for the kill:An athlete? What does an athlete even see in you—with that body? You’ll be left before the ink on the marriage license dries.
Her imagined voice followed me everywhere, slicing into me while I picked apart my reflection, convinced every flaw was proof she would have been right to say it.
Jacob had tried to reach out a few times, but I ignored him. I shut everyone out, even Austin.
Yet, as I watched him in the mirror now, his tongue dragging across my skin, I’d never felt more beautiful. My body moved without thought, my hips grinding against his face. The breasts I used to hate, always thinking they were too big, too much, now bounced with each pulse of pleasure. My hair, never blonde enough—too caramel for her standards—fell in soft waves down my back. With every touch, he reminded me why he’d told me tostand in front of the mirror—so I could finally see the beauty he saw.
“Yes, Austin,” I moaned.
His tongue went to my sensitive nub as he licked, applying gentle pressure.
“So fucking sweet,” he growled between sucks.
The mirror reflected more than just my body—it showed me a woman who was desired, cherished, and wholly alive. Every flaw I thought I had was worshipped under Austin’s touch. The image was intoxicating, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I believed I was beautiful.
Austin’s tongue circled my clit with slow, deliberate strokes, his lips sealing around it before he gently sucked. He slid his fingers up and tangled them in the strip of hair on my pussy.
“You know,” he murmured. “I love this. It’s perfect—soft, natural, just like you.” He slowly traced it with his thumb.
Tears pricked my eyes, but the need pulsing through me was too strong to let them fall. I clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I panted.
“Austin,” I cried out, my voice breaking, “I need you inside me. Please—I can’t take it anymore.” I scrambled to pull him closer, desperate and trembling. “I need you now. Please.”
He leaned in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss just below my navel, his voice a rasp against my skin. “Are you sure?”
I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want it to be you.”
There was so much more behind my statement. I needed him to show me how beautiful I could be. I needed him to worship me. I was choosing him.
“There will be lines, honey. Lines we’ll cross. Lines that’ll blur.”
I met his gaze, unwavering. “I know. Let them.”
“Okay,” he said softly, and his lips curved into a tender smile. “If you change your mind, you tell me. We stop the second you want to.”
He released my leg and walked over to the bed, pulling the cream-colored bench from its place at the foot. He threw off his shirt and the rest of his clothes, throwing them into the corner of the room. He dragged the bench across the floor, positioning it directly in front of the mirror where I stood.
“B-But we could just use the bed,” I stammered.
“No. I want you to see what you do to me. AndIwant to watch you.”
As he positioned the bench, my stomach twisted. I’d never watched myself like this before.
“What if I look ugly?” I blurted. “Or what if I do it wrong?”
Austin froze for a moment, then straightened and turned to me.
“You could never be ugly,” he said firmly. “Not to me. Not ever.”
I thought of all the times my mother’s voice had chipped away at my confidence, telling me I wasn’t enough—not pretty enough, not good enough. Yet with Austin’s unwavering gaze on me, I felt something shift. For the first time, I wasn’t just trying to be beautiful despite her words. I was determined to rewrite them entirely. I’d be everything she said I couldn’t be.
I swallowed down my fears, letting a new sense of determination wash over me.
“Sit,” I said, motioning to the bench.
Austin smirked but didn’t hesitate, lowering himself to sit on it. We adjusted our positions, angling ourselves so the mirror captured a side view of our bodies. I could see the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his muscles flexed as he settled in, and the curve of my own body as I moved to him. My reflection no longer felt like something to avoid—it was a revelation. In the mirror, I sawmyself—soft curves, flushed skin, and steady thighs framing my hips. I was strong, I was beautiful, and for the first time, I could see it for myself.
