I lift my chin. “Nothing you say here will be wrong. You can tell me.”
“Oh, um…” He looks off to the side. “Uh, definitely no choking, and don’t make me pretend to gag on your cock. I don’t have a gag reflex, and I hate pretending of any kind.”
His look of disdain would be adorable if we weren’t talking about something so important.
I lean in, stealing his gaze. “Ant, if you pretend to like something, even a little? This all ends. Don’t bat your eyes at me or give me those pretty little looks that go straight to my fucking cock if they don’t mean anything. You hear me?”
His eyes widen and he nods.
“Okay, then. What else?”
Seeing that I’m sincere, he relaxes into the question, even as he juts out his chin.
“No role-play or feminization. Like, at all. No little play.”
“Is it okay that I like how tiny you are?”
“Very okay. There’s a big difference between liking that I’m a smaller person and wanting to pretend I’m underage. That’s not okay for me.”
“Got it. What else, my petite one?” I ask, kissing his nose.
He smiles for a moment before he goes serious again.
“No bodily waste. No…uh. No blindfolds. No multiples. I don’t like being outnumbered. Or tied up.”
All of these are completely reasonable, but it’s still difficult to neutralize my face. Those are all solid noes because they’re all things he was made to do.
“Anything else?”
He scowls. “Ugh. And no rimming. Ever.”
Ah, damn.
“You don’t like rimming?”
Ant shivers. “Guys are gross.”
Because, of course, he was never on the receiving end.
“What about me rimming you? Like, if I wanted you to sit on my face—would that be okay?”
The flush on his chest tells me he likes the idea, but the way he chews his thumbnail reveals his uncertainty. “Would you really want to do that to me?” he asks in a whisper.
I trace his collarbones with my fingertips. “I wouldloveto do that to you. However, I do have some standards of cleanliness around rimming.”
Ant slides off the counter and stalks past me to the shower, turning on the water.
“Whatcha doin’?” I ask, approaching him from behind, letting my hands drift around to his chest so I can pull him against me.
He turns in the circle of my arms and gives me his bestduhlook. “Well, now I kindawantto sit on your face, and since you havestandards of cleanliness…” He gestures to the shower, the expression in his pretty eyes pure filth.
I look down my nose at him and raise a single brow, loving the challenge in his eyes. “Yes, but who’s in charge?”
Ant’s answering grin, so like the mischief I saw in him last night, makes me doubt my answer. I narrow my eyes. “Hm.”
“Yes?” he asks, his grin broadening.
“Last night—did you pull up Luca’s site to make me jealous?”
