I swallow thickly. Maybe I should be focusing on this whole connection with a black-ops site, but that’s not where my head is at.
“Is that all this is? Fucking?”
Bram’s haunted eyes give me the answer before his words. “No. I know we’re still new to talking about all of this, but please believe me when I tell you this goes way beyond merelyfucking.”
The intensity of his stare, the crackle of electricity at this moment…I know he’s telling me the truth.
“Then let’s get you in the shower and wash last night off you. I’ll call in, and we’ll spend the day in bed.”
It’s weird and deeply sensual to be the person whose words pull the pin on Bram’s control, letting it bleed out along with the tension in his body. Within seconds, he looks softer, his need allowed to show itself.
“Thank you,” he says softly, following me to the back.
Stepping up to the shower closet, I lay down towels in the hallway, keeping the door open as I wash him thoroughly and gently. After that, I dry him off, and he follows me down the short hall into the big bed. We climb in together, naked, holding one another.
“Do you need anything? My mouth, my ass?”
He shakes his head. “Just you.”
And in this, me taking care of him absent any of our dynamic, just his vulnerability between us…my heart tips over into words unspoken. Like dipping into a heated pool, warm and comforting.
We wrap ourselves around each other, falling into a deep sleep.
* * *
I wake to a thick,wet sensation against my hole.
“Are you rimming me?” I ask, blinking against the midday sunlight that fills my tiny room.
“Mm-hmm,” Bram growls, pushing me facedown against the pillows as he drags his thick tongue from my cockhead to my rim and back again.
I arch back when he spits on my hole, loving how dirty it feels. After turning me into a boneless mess, Bram swirls a lubed finger around the puckered rim, softening it before sliding inside the tight space.
He’s nearly torturous with the glacial speed he’s going, nipping the shelf of my ass as he adds a second finger, tickling my ribs while he scissors his fingers, stretching me. So carefully.
“Does this feel good, Ignacio?”
“Yes, Dr. Barlowe. It feels so good.”
“Do you know why I’m doing this?”
“Because I’ve been good?”
“Mm-hmm. You’ve been a very good boy, Ignacio. You took care of me when I really needed it. And good boys get rewarded.”
I squeal, grinding my still-sleepy cock into the covers. He taps my hip. “Stop humping the bed. I’ll take care of you. Promise.”
I let out a disgruntled sigh, but I still my hips because he’s asked so nicely. He continues to spear me with his fingers, carefully driving me up the wall with perfect pressure.
“Fuck me, Dr. Barlowe. Please, please fuck me,” I plead, half babbling, half whining.
He makes a sound low in his throat, and I look back. He’s slowly stroking himself, attempting to draw this out despite the desperation in his expression.
Fuck that.
I shift my hips back, bumping his hand.
“I’ve been saving myself for you. Only you. Please…I beg of you…take what’s yours.”
